The It's Kind Of Personal (Complete 6 Book Series)ies

by Anna Brooks

  “Is that yours?” she replies just as fast.

  I chuckle and bring my lips to hers, barely kissing, but unable to resist.

  “How about we go inside?”

  She’s on the couch, and I’m on her coffee table, not one word passed between us since we sat down. She’s looking around her apartment, eyes focusing on anything but me.

  “Why are you nervous?”

  Her eyes snap to me. “Is that your first question?”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  “I don’t know. I guess… Okay, so, here’s the thing. I have a lot I want to tell you, but I’m really afraid of how you’re going to respond.” She puffs out a huge breath, and I pat her leg.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Are you patting me like a dog?” she asks with a smile on her face.

  “I guess I am, sorry. I want honesty, sweetheart. I can handle it as long as you don’t lie to me.” Giving her leg a squeeze, I sit back and ask another question. I want to be able to study her face so I can see how she reacts. “Did he hurt you?”

  Her eyes widen before she blinks rapidly, knees bouncing. Now chewing on her nail, she nods her head in time with the quick rhythm of her knees. I set my hands on her legs to still them, and she moves me away so she can stand. I don’t want to push her too fast, so I watch as she paces. Waiting, pissed off because I already know the answer.

  “When Dad passed away, he took a part of my mom with him. Then she was diagnosed with breast cancer… but she was already dying. Not only did I have to deal with a depressed mom, but now she was sick.” She gets a pained expression on her face, like she’s reliving it all over again.

  “I told you before that I had to do everything. Well, that included all the hospital bills, too. Let’s just say my dad’s life insurance went fast. It got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore.” Her small hands are curled in fists, and when I stand and rest my hand on her shoulder, she leans into it as if it brings her strength.

  “I was at the desk in the Oncology unit arguing with a nurse about something. I don't even remember what. That’s when I met him.” I feel her hands start to shake, and her body tenses up.

  “Sweetheart, it’s okay. That’s enough for tonight. You don’t have to tell me everything right away.” I know enough. That fucker hurt her.

  My blood boils, but I rein in my anger when she turns, wraps her arms around my waist, and buries her face in my chest. God, I missed this.

  “Did you think about me?” Her question so soft I barely hear it.

  I run my fingers through her hair and answer, “Yeah. I did. All the time. I wondered what you were doing, if you were okay. But mostly, I wondered if you missed me, too. If you thought about me.”

  “I did. You have no idea.”

  The thousands of pounds sitting on my shoulders are gone, knowing she cared about me, too.

  She pulls back from me and squares her shoulders. “Did you, umm… Were there other—”

  “Don’t finish. I know what you’re asking.” As hard as it is to tell her this, I have to be honest. “Yes, there were others. Not tons, but I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t. It meant nothing.” I laugh and shake my head. “Man, that sounds so cliché. I swear to you, it’s the truth, though. And since the moment I saw you again, there hasn’t been anybody.”

  “What about tonight? That slut.”

  I raise my eyebrows, surprised at her tone. “Jealous?”

  “Honesty, right?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “I wanted to cut a bitch.”

  Laughter erupts from me, and I have to wipe the tears forming. “Holy shit, that was hilarious.”

  “I’m glad my anger amuses you.” She tips her head to the side and smiles, letting me know she’s joking.

  “She was nothing, just followed me from the other bar.”

  “Didn’t look like nothing.”

  I rub the back of my neck nervously. “I was too busy looking at you to notice what she was doing. You left before you could see me push her off to go after you. I swear, nothing happened.”

  “Okay, good.” She seems to be telling this to herself for reassurance.

  “Is this awkward conversation over now?”

  “Yeah, it is.” She rests her head back on my chest, and my arms tighten around her waist, holding her, wishing we could stay like this forever.

  Thank God she’s done with that conversation, because how do I explain to the girl I love, that I’ve fucked other women. Seriously, though, none of them meant anything. And nobody felt anywhere near as good as Charlotte. Thinking about her wrapped around me again is making me hard. So much for staying like this forever.

  “I’m starving. Did you eat?” I ask.

  “Not really.”

  “Pizza okay?”

  “Sure.” She pushes off me, and I grab my phone out of my pocket to order while she pulls up her account on the TV and scrolls through. We laugh at the comedy choices and decide to go with one. Some laughter is a welcome reprieve from all the tension. When the pizza comes, I get up and pay for it, grab some napkins and bottles of water out of her fridge, and set everything on the coffee table.

  When she flings open the pizza box, her laughter fills the room, and I smile at her happiness. I miss this girl, the one who would crack up over something as dumb as a pizza with a different topping on each slice.

  “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I try to blow it off, but she’s right. It’s kind of crazy. I remember everything she’s told me. Her likes and dislikes. Fears and dreams. On one of our dates that summer, we went out for pizza, and she made an offhand comment about how she would love to have a pizza with a different topping on each slice.

  “Wow, that’s just…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, instead leans over and gently presses her lips to mine.

  I let her take the lead and fight back a groan when her tongue traces my lips. She runs a hand down my chest, and those lips make a trail down my neck. When she licks my ear lobe, her fingertip runs on the outside of my jeans, tracing the head that’s poking out of the top, begging for attention. It’s hell keeping my hands to myself, but I continue squeezing the couch cushions while her tongue makes a trail up my neck and back to my mouth. This time when her lips touch mine, it’s not soft, but needy.

  She straddles my lap and nips at my bottom lip. My resistance breaks, and my hands grab her hips, pressing her harder onto me. I can’t remember the last time my dick’s been this hard. I feel her legs spasm and swallow her moan, fucking her mouth with my tongue, wishing it were my dick instead.

  Her entire body freezes up, and she pushes off me, tripping on the table as she tries to get away.

  “Char, stop.” My voice is stern. I’m sick of her running away.

  “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I don’t know what… I just. Now you.” She points at my still hard dick, with a worried expression on her face. I wish she could let go and trust me again. “I’m not ready for that. And you’re still…” Her confidence in me is really starting to piss me off. I walk over and grab her shoulders giving her a little shake, trying to get her back to me, with me.

  “I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine after a cold shower.” I smirk at her, and I see the tension fade away.

  “That’s what you said last time. Like four years ago.”

  “I know. Look at me, sweetheart.” I pause, waiting. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. Sure, I’d love nothing more than to be buried deep inside you right now, but I know you’re not ready for that.”

  Shrugging, I sit back down on the couch. I’m so uncomfortable right now, and nothing is helping this hard on go away. We eat pizza and barely watch the movie. The silence is killing me.

  “Come with me to my parent’s house Sunday.” That’ll do it. Mission get rid of your hard on accomplished.

  “What?”

  “Yeah. It’s Brandon’s last family dinner for who knows how lon
g. He starts his new job next week, so I’m sure he’ll be too busy for the first few months.”

  “Do they… know about me?”

  “No. Well, my parents don’t. Brandon knows there’s a girl. I never told him about you.”

  Her face falls, and I immediately explain. “Not because I’m ashamed of you or anything. It’s just… after Tammy, they thought I was going to lose it. Which I did, I guess. If I told them about you, they’d be all over me, and honestly, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with us, if anything. So, I guess I kept you my secret.”

  “I don’t know. That’s a lot for me, to meet your family.”

  “I understand that, sweetheart. And I know you still have more to tell me, but you have to start living again. Come with me, please.” I’m begging, and I don’t fucking care. I want her to take this step with me.

  “Okay. But can we not give them the details of how we met. Say we knew each other through Pierce?”

  “Sure.” Plus, if I told my parents, they’d be all over me for information. Once they found about her only being seventeen when we met, they’d kick my ass. “I want to give you a heads up that my dad’s in a wheelchair.”

  Her hands fly to her mouth to cover her gasp. “Oh no, what happened?”

  “He is, rather, he was a cop. He got shot in the shoulder and the impact threw him down the stairs. He damaged some of the nerves in his spine.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It happened when I was fourteen. It’s not a big deal anymore; it’s part of who he is. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.” She yawns and quickly turns her head to cover her face with her hair.

  “You’re tired, sweetheart. I should go.”

  She hesitates for a moment. “Okay.” She stands and I follow her to the door. “Ya know, I was coming for you.”

  “What? When?”

  “When I ran into you in the hallway. After I left the bar, I came here, but I couldn’t walk away again.” Her confession rocks my world.

  “That’s good. You know what you said earlier, in the parking lot. I want that. I want to owe you explanations. I want to be something to you.”

  Closing the distance between us, she reaches up and grabs my face. Her thumb rubs along the stubble on my chin. I watch her eyes as they follow her finger for a minute before roaming up my face to connect with mine.

  “You are, Travis. You’re everything to me. Always have been, and I’m hoping when I tell you everything, that you’ll still want to be with me.”

  I’m blown away by her honesty, and mimic her by cradling her face in my hands.

  “Nothing could change the way I feel about you, okay? Nothing.”

  Chapter 15

  Charlotte

  “OPEN YOUR DOOR. I know you’re in there!” I pound on Meara’s door and almost fall in when she opens it.

  “What the hell is your problem? It’s so early.” She rubs her eyes and yawns.

  “It’s not early, it’s almost noon. I need help. Like bad.”

  She must sense the desperation in my voice because her head snaps up and her tired eyes are quickly replace with concerned ones.

  “Why? What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Travis is taking me to meet his parents tomorrow,” I say nervously.

  She looks at me with wide eyes before she starts laughing hysterically.

  “Stop laughing, it’s not funny. What am I going to wear? How am I going to avoid questions about how we met?” She’s still laughing, so I hit her with my purse. She rubs her arm and stops, shooting evil eyes at me.

  “Seriously, Meara. I’m freaking out!”

  “Okay, geeze, don’t get your panties in a wad. Everything will be fine, I promise. Give me like twenty minutes to take a shower, okay?”

  She doesn’t wait for an answer before she walks away. A few minutes later, I hear the water turn on. I wander around her apartment and stop to look at the collection of pictures she has on her wall. Some of them are family, me included. Most of them are of her and her boyfriend, Liam. They’ve been together since they were kids, and seeing the pictures of them as teenagers together is so cute. It’s too bad that they don't see each other much since he’s been touring with his band.

  “Okay, now sit your ass down and talk to me.” She’s dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a black concert tee so faded you can barely see the logo. Her shoes are high-heeled spiky black boots. She thinks she’s too short at five-foot-four, so you won’t ever find her in anything less than three-inch heels.

  I follow her to the kitchen and plop down on a stool. Aside from Dr. Reynolds, she’s the only one who knows everything. I tell her Travis wants to take me to meet his parents, and how nervous I am.

  “You need a damn Xanax. Calm yourself, child.”

  “No, I can’t calm down! This is huge for me, for us. Meeting his parents means that we’re actually something. And I still haven’t told him everything. What if he decides—”

  She swats my flailing hands. “I said calm down. You worry too much, sheesh. Eat this, we’ll go shopping to get you an outfit, then we’ll go to the pub and have a drink to settle your ass down.”

  “Okay. Okay.” I can barely swallow the bagel Meara made for me because the knot in my stomach is so large, it feels lodged in my throat.

  “I can’t eat right now, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Hey.” I look at her and scrunch my eyebrows at her serious expression. “Everything will be okay. You know that, right? Look at what you’ve already been through. This’ll be a cakewalk.”

  * * *

  “Hell, no. You want them to think I’m a hooker?” I ask incredulously. She picked out a skirt, but it really looks like a tube top, and a V-neck shirt. The ‘v’ goes almost to my belly button. “Why did I think this would be a good idea?” I mumble under my breath.

  “I heard that. Let me go find something a little less slutty. I’m only messing with you.” She turns on her heels and heads back into the store as I walk back to the dressing room.

  I don't want his parents to think I’m a slut. I also don't want to look like an old lady. Are jeans not dressy enough? Is a skirt too fancy? A million thoughts are running through my head when a pile of clothes flies over the top of the door.

  “There. If that’s good enough, I’m done. Try it on and come thank me for making you look absolutely perfect for meeting his parents.”

  Sighing, I rid my body of the slut clothes and put on the new outfit without even looking at it. When I step out of the dressing room, her eyes widen, and she smiles huge.

  “Perfect! It’s perfect. Damn, I’m good.” She studies her handiwork, and I reluctantly turn and look in the three-sided mirror. Wow, she’s right.

  “It is perfect.” She picked out a pair of turquoise leggings that stop at my calves. The long dress shirt is really pretty; three-quarter length sleeves with large flowers in pastels, outlined with bolder colors and lime green stems. The flats pull the maroon color from the shirt and have little jewels on them to add sparkle.

  “Right. Now go buy this so we can get some food and a drink.” I look at my watch, and notice it’s almost seven at night. We’ve been shopping for six hours now. I quickly change and pay for my items. Once inside her car, I toss my bag on the backseat and let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “Thanks, Meara, seriously.”

  “Please,” She waves me off. “You’ll be fine. You have to stop worrying so much and relax. The guy loves you. He’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

  Love? “No…”

  “Oh, come on, Char. You’re blind if you can’t see that Travis is in love with you. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before you finally told me about what happened that summer.”

  I don’t get a chance to answer because we pull up to The Pub, and she’s out and walking to the door.

  We say hi to everyone and grab a seat in an end booth. The waitress comes over
, and we order our food. After we eat, we grab a seat at the bar.

  “Hey, Nik,” I say as the bartender walks over.

  “Hey, ladies. What’s up?”

  “Nothin’, a girls’ day.” We chat for a few minutes and order our drinks. I laugh when Nik hands Meara a pink drink with an umbrella in it. Such a contradiction to the rock chick image, she always orders some fruity-tutti drink. I prefer wine or beer. We clink glasses and chat for the next hour or so. More people start to flood in, and it gets a little busier. Another bartender, Zach, shows up at nine and gives us a wink before sliding a couple of shot glasses in front of us.

  “From the guys down there.” He points his head at the other end of the bar where a bunch of frat boys sit, smiling at us.

  “Cheers, boys!” Meara lifts her glass and slams it down, swallowing the clear liquid like a champ. I laugh at her and push my shot toward her. I really don't feel like being hungover tomorrow. “Nope. You gotta do it. Come on, Char. Loosen up a little.” She pushes it back, and I catch sight of myself in the mirror behind the bar. I’m smiling, and my eyes look happy. Finally, I feel back to normal.

  “Okay, okay.” I grab the glass and pour the shot down my throat. A small shiver runs along my spine when the alcohol hits me, and I wave a thanks to the guys who bought the shot. I would never take a shot from someone I don’t know, but this is my family's bar. I’m safe here.

  We order another drink, and I almost fall off my stool when we get up to go to the bathroom. Laughing, Meara and I stumble back to our seats and finish the rest of our drinks.

  “I think I wanna have babies with Travis.”

  “They’d be the cutest babies ever.”

  “Yeah, he is pretty cute.” I laugh and wave my hand at Nik or Zach, either one, really. I want another drink. I have no idea where that thought came from but thinking about having Travis’ babies makes me smile.

  Meara and I are laughing our asses off at some dumb joke she said, and I knock my glass over on the bar.

  “Shit! Give me a towel!” I shout at Nik who throws one at me, shaking his head laughing. I wipe my mess up and toss the soaked towel over the bar. It splashes on the floor all over Nik’s shoes, and he gives me a dirty look.