She swallowed and dropped another wrapper to the table. “It’s a good one. You’ll get your own shop someday; I feel it in my gut.”
He shifted on the couch next to her. “This town’s big enough to support more tattoo studios, so it wouldn’t be like I’d be taking food off Janna’s table. There’s plenty to go around.”
She couldn’t tell if he was trying to convince her or himself. “The lady from Saints?”
He nodded, waxing a thumb back and forth across a cold bottle of Ranger IPA. “I just need to save up a little more money.”
Brooke adjusted the gym shorts running past her knees he had loaned her. “Like how much more?” She cringed as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. It was none of her business, but that had never stopped her before.
“Well, I had about ninety grand until I broke down and bought my bike last summer, which ran me around twenty-five large with the trailer and gear and everything, but I figure in another year – two tops – I’ll be good to go.”
“By yourself?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders and she was glad he hadn’t put a shirt on. “I’m open to investors,” he said. “Why? You want in?”
She snorted. “Do you take high heels?”
“What about you?”
She stared at him through sleepy eyes. “What about me?”
“What do you want to do? What’s your goal in life?”
Her eyes swept across the living room. She hadn’t thought about it in awhile and that was half the problem. “I don’t know. People always ask that and it’s impossible to answer because everything I want to do is a pipedream. So the question is more like: what will I settle for doing?”
Ben laughed. “You really are a glass is half full kinda gal, you know that?”
“It’s true though! I’ve always wanted to own my own bakery, but will I end up owning my own bakery? Well, seeing as how I’ve got about eight hundred dollars in my savings and my parents are in more debt than I am, I’d say there’s about as much a chance of that happening as there is of me falling for the right guy.”
Ben furrowed his brow.
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said, patting his hand, “but I don’t have the best track record in the world.”
“Why? What happened?”
She sighed. “Last guy I dated brought his ex-girlfriend over to my old apartment one night.”
“What?” Ben said with a laugh. “Why in the hell would he do that?”
“Somehow he got the idea I was into sharing, which I am most definitely not. Just ask my sister. She knew better than to mess with my Powerpuff Girls.”
His smile lit up the room. “So what happened?”
“I told him to get lost and I assume they went back to his place until they realized why they had broken up to begin with.”
He stared at her with that look in his eye, a little smile dimpling the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad you stayed.”
“I would’ve gone to Evy’s but Richie’s staying there until his bathroom gets remodeled.” She used her fingers to make quotations, suspect of anything Richie says.
“I take it you’re not a big fan of his.”
An indifferent shrug made the retro Dukes of Hazzard t-shirt he had given her rise and fall. “Richie is an a-hole. My dad always tries getting him to go golfing with him and he will never go.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Brooke pinched her eyes together. “I just think there’s something he doesn’t want my dad finding out about him.”
“Like what?”
“Like he’s into human trafficking. My dad can sniff that kind of stuff out.”
Ben looked down to the bottle in his hands and shook his head.
“What?”
“That guy’s crazy because your dad is awesome.”
“He has his moments.”
“I think if we had met under different circumstances, your dad and I would’ve really hit it off.”
She surveyed his tattoos and earrings. “I seriously doubt it.”
His jaw dropped. “We were going to go bowling tomorrow!”
“Well, that ship has sailed, Tiny Tim. And no offense, but I doubt he’d ever be big on me dating a tattoo artist, let alone one that took advantage of me at a Halloween party.”
“I didn’t take advantage of you!” he scowled. “You took advantage of me.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t need to know that, silly.”
He paused, his eyebrows drawing together. “What if I got a real job.”
Brooke tilted her head to the side. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “Rock station DJ or male stripper.”
She laughed and rubbed his arm. “Sweetie, you just keep on doing what you do best and that’s being you. Minute you start being somebody else is the minute I pull up stakes and hit the trail.”
They grew still.
Concern rippled across her face as she pictured her dad not coming to her wedding. The fleeting thought, straight out of left field, fled as fast as it had come.
“He’ll come around,” Ben said, somehow reading her mind. “Your mom, too.”
She kissed his hand.
“In the meantime,” he continued, sitting up straighter and making the monster in his sweats noticeably shift down his leg, “you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Mi casa su casa.”
“Thank you.”
“We just need a little more time to figure out a way for me to win your dad over.”
Brooke frowned. “No, we don’t. And why do even you care so much?”
He tore his eyes from hers. “I just do.”
“I mean, it’s not like we’re getting married or anything. We’re just blowing off some steam.”
“Is that what you call this?”
She shrugged loosely. “Listen, you and I are in the wrong place at the wrong time so there’s no need for you to be worrying about anything concerning my father. He and I will be just fine.”
Ben shrunk a little with the comment. “I’m just saying I would like to try.”
“Well forget it, because you don’t know my father. One minute he’s the class clown, the next the clown killer.”
“Whatever.”
She stretched her arms back and yawned, glancing at a large wall clock. “How’d it get so late?”
“It’s not that late.”
“I’m tired.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, I’ve got another long day tomorrow, Tattoo. I should probably get some sleep.”
“Tattoo?”
“Short guy from Fantasy Island? Don’t act like you don’t know because I know you’re at least ten years older than me.” She got up and held out her hand. “You coming?”
He looked at the TV for a second and then took her hand, following her into the bedroom where they kissed and touched until succumbing to exhaustion’s call. Brooke slept soundly, wrapped in Ben’s protective arms until the break of dawn.
***
Brooke sipped the last of the coffee the next morning, quietly scanning Ben’s apartment before she had to go to work. He had left an hour ago and the place was all hers. She marveled at the clean, modern look. Back on All Hallows’ Eve when they had first met, Pottery Barn and IKEA were the last things she would have imagined. Walmart and Goodwill were more like it. A small dose of guilt shot through her, her mother’s advice about books and covers echoing inside her skull. She smiled and took another sip, glad she was wrong.
A loud rapping at the door made her jump. Deep down, she knew it was her father. It wasn’t so much her gut telling her this as it was the knock itself. Loud. Impatient. The knock of an angry father, come to drag his little girl from the wretched lot she had fallen in with on the streets. Come to take her home where she belonged.
The knock came again, louder, jolting Brooke back to reality. She set the Superman mug down and crept to the door, an image of Ben’s ex-girlfriend – whoever the hell that may be – ski
dded through her mind. Maybe it wasn’t Will after all. Maybe Ben’s ex had gotten wind of Brooke’s presence, like a mother wolf when another female invades her pack in the dead of night. Brooke stood on her tippy toes and peered through the peephole, holding her breath. She released it, dropped back onto her heels and opened the door.
“What are you doing here?”
Tasha sashayed inside, one pink high heel strutting in front of the other, dirty blond hair running to the small of her back. “I stopped at your parents’ house.” She stopped in the middle of the living room to survey the place, a red leather coat draped over her arm. “I knew I’d find you here so I got the address from Mandy. Had to pry it out of her with a ten dollar bill.”
Brooke shut the door and locked it. “Have you ever thought about becoming a detective?”
“Actually, I have. I think it was when I fucked up the third table’s order in a row last night and the mom referred to me as a Facebook drone.”
Brooke started to smile, imagining Tasha waiting tables in between Facebook and Twitter posts on her phone. It wasn’t far off the mark.
Tasha sighed. “Started thinking what I wouldn’t give to be one of them bad ass bitches on CSI: Miami. You ever watch that show?”
Brooke came around for a better look at Tasha’s face. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m here.”
Tasha’s gaze roamed the place, sliding over the slim couch and dark wood framing the coffee table and TV stand. “This place is so cute!” She wrinkled her nose. “Is he gay?”
“Who?”
“Roger,” she laughed, pointing to the wall. “He even has a ladder bookcase.” She covered her mouth. “With plants!”
“He’s not gay, trust me. And his name is Ben, not Roger.”
“Roger, Dodger, who gives a shit.” Tasha plopped down heavily onto the couch and crossed her denim covered legs, admiring her shoe as she swung it back and forth through the air. “Is he here?”
“He already left for work.”
“So was Mandy right?”
Brooke sat down next to her and looked at her watch. “About what?”
“His big giant cock. Is it really that big?” She bent closer. “Did it hurt?”
Brooke fought the flush spreading in her cheeks. “Why are we talking about this again?”
“Because that’s what we do. Remember?” She paused for a moment. “Do you think he uses a penis pump? How do those things even work?”
“Actually, Tash, I was just heading to work.”
“Well, I’m glad I caught you then.”
“Why? What’s up?”
Her face sobered. “Nothing is up! That’s my problem.”
The tree house flashed through Brooke’s mind. “That’s right, you were going to Buffalo Wild Wings with Mandy.”
“Here’s your coat back.” She set it between them on the couch.
“What happened?”
Tasha glumly shook her head, letting her eyes glaze over. “I pulled the biggest slob out of there I could find. Ya know, a guy who – under normal circumstances – would shoot his load as soon as I touched his wiener.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did. And guess what.”
“What?”
“The fat fuck couldn’t get it up.”
“Probably because he was nervous as hell being with someone like you. It was a shock to his system.”
Tasha got up and went to a window, staring forlornly out it for a little while. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps you’re trying too hard.”
She turned back to Brooke. “Mandy wants you to move back in.”
Brooke stared dully at her. “Are you serious?”
Tasha looked around at Ben’s stuff. “But if this guy is going to be around you might as well forget it.”
“What’d she say?”
“I think she just realizes it was all a big misunderstanding, and she didn’t like Ben that much anyway.” She picked up a picture of Ben on his bike overlooking Saylorville lake and set it back on the ladder shelf. “She’s just glad you stopped her from giving her virginity to this douche.”
“I knew it,” Brooke said under her breath.
“You knew what?”
“Nothing. And just for the record, he’s actually kind of nice.”
Tasha frowned. “Do not tell me you have fallen for this guy, Brooke. He’s a total player!”
“I haven’t fallen for anybody.”
“Oh my God, you totally have! This is the last thing you need right now.”
“We’re just…blowing off some steam.”
Tasha threw her arms out. “Look around, Brooke! You’re already living with him and you barely even know the guy.”
Brooke opened her mouth to rebut.
“How do you think Mandy would feel?” Tasha asked, driving the final nail into Brooke’s coffin.
She closed her mouth as an ambulance or fire truck whizzed past outside, its sirens cutting through the tension filled silence between them.
Tasha sat next to Brooke on the edge of the couch and took her hand. “It is my job as your friend to tell you when you are making bad decisions, and you are making bad decisions.”
Brooke snatched her hand back. “Oh, this coming from the girl who will bang anything with a pulse.”
Tasha folded her arms across her white coat. “Hand-jobs are not banging, and I’m not the one who is homeless.”
Brooke stood up. “Don’t you judge me.”
Tasha got up and blocked her from leaving the room. “You are my best friend and I love you, but I will not just sit by and watch you lose a good friend over this guy.”
Brooke turned her gaze up to searing and spoke in a low grumble. “I have to get to work.” She pushed Tasha out of the way and grabbed her purse and the spare key Ben had left for her on the counter.
“Yeah, you better hurry before he screws that up, too.”
Brooke opened the door and held it. “You’ve been talking to Mandy too much.”
Tasha grabbed her purse and trudged past, stopping in front of Brooke. “Oh, that’s right. It’s all Mandy’s fault. Little miss innocent prude, Mandy.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Tasha pressed her lips together. “You didn’t have to,” she whispered, strutting determined steps down the long hallway and bursting through the glass front door into the sun splashed day.
A weary sigh seeped from Brooke. “That was fun,” she mumbled, shutting the door and locking it behind her.
Chapter Twenty
As soon as Mrs. Randall left to go collect the linens from the dry cleaners, Brooke sank into the desk chair in the office and considered her options. Eventually, she pulled her cell from her pocket and scrolled to Mandy’s name. Her thumb hovered above CALL and for a moment the issue was in doubt. One thing, however, was very clear: she would have to lose Ben to get her life back. Her eyes strayed from focus as she wondered what kind of life she would end up retrieving. She stared at the clock on the wall through distant eyes, the second hand moving much slower than her mind. A life with Ben fluttered through her mind: holding hands at Gray’s Lake one minute and riding on the back of his bike to the bridges of Madison County the next. Wind in their hair and sun in their faces, worries eating their dust.
The cell vibrated in her hand. She answered. “Hey.”
“How’s shit creek?” Evy asked.
“It stinks.”
“I bet.”
“It’ll get better.”
“You didn’t stay at Tasha’s last night.”
Brooke wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I ran into one of Tasha’s roommates at the gas station this morning and she never saw you last night.”
“Oh, great, the one time any of those girls are up in the morning...”
“So where’d you go?”
“A motel.”
“Why are you lying to me?” Evy asked with zero
hesitation.
“Because I’m tired of everyone gettin all up in my business.”
“So you lied when you texted me last night, saying you were at Tasha’s.”
Brooke rolled her eyes and got up, the chair squeaking with the lightened load. She went into the kitchen and started pacing. “No, I changed my mind.”
“So where’d you stay?”
Brooke sighed. “I stayed with Ben.”
A moment of silence ran its course.
“The cute guy I met at the bar?”
“That’s the one.”
“Ooh, are you two dating now?”
“No.”
“Well, he’s pretty hot.” Evy hesitated. “If you’re into tattoos anyway.”
Brooke stopped pacing. “He’s okay, but I don’t see it going anywhere. Hey, how’s that cock-ring thing going?” she asked, changing the subject and drumming her lavender painted nails against the stainless steel countertop.
“It’s out of batteries. So are you staying at Ben’s again tonight?” Evy asked, changing the subject right back.
Brooke stopped drumming her nails and glanced around the kitchen. “If you must know…maybe.”
Evy sighed into the phone. “Just promise you’ll keep me in the loop. I’m not your enemy here, Brooke. You can tell me anything.”
“I know.”
Evy paused for dramatic effect. “Then why do I feel like you’re not telling me everything here?”
Brooke shut her eyes. “I am, and I should get going.”
“All right, but call mom and dad. They’re worried about you.”
“Okay, talk to you later.” Brooke hung up and wiped the phone’s screen on her jeans, feeling better for the first time in days. She could see her and Ben at his place tonight, curled up on the couch watching movies and ordering pizza. Just the two of them and no one to get in the way. Regardless of what everyone else thought, she would not let him get away without a good vetting first. The only question was: which part of him should she begin with? She giggled softly, envisioning him lying naked on his bed, holding his hand out to her with that cocky grin plastered across his face because she was just as naked as he was. A timer went off on the oven, pulling her back to earth.
***
A young couple strolled past hand in hand, their shadows with a bounce in their step. They laughed about something with the sun in their faces before disappearing from view. Ben dropped his gaze to the assortment of earrings inside the glass case he was leaning on, deliberating on where he wanted to take Brooke. Somewhere to get away from it all, someplace where no one would find them. He sucked on a straw, draining Mountain Dew from a QuickTrip cup and checking his watch, willing the day to go faster. He couldn’t stop wondering if she would stay tonight or not, and there was only one way to find out.
Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted Page 17