Chapter 18 Brody
Brody
Istep out of the shower, pausing in front of the bathroom mirror. “You’re going to have to own up to what you’re doing with Georgia, and deal with Robert.” I sound like a crazy person talking to myself.
But I’m just… worried.
Georgia was devastated after the dinner with her father. Hell, I was devastated too.
I guess I never realized just how big of a dick he could be.
I run my fingers through my damp hair and then step out of the bathroom, catching sight of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen sitting on the edge of my bed.
Georgia peers up at me, her eyes tired. “You know, I tried to leave this morning.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I should’ve tried to talk to you about it sooner.”
“I was closed off.” Her eyes drop to her hands, clasped in her lap.
“I know I shut you out the entire way back to the boat, and I just made up my mind that it was over. I needed to be done with it, because… I thought it was all going to end, anyway.” She looks up at me, tears welling up in her eyes. “But then you guys reassured me.”
“Well, mostly Emmett and Miles did,” I begrudgingly admit, taking the seat beside her. “It was a shock to me though. All of this.” The truth comes tumbling out of my mouth without much effort.
She shifts her weight, letting her hands drop to the duvet. The silence between us hurts, and I shift away, trying to read her expression. But just like all women, she feels like a mystery.
And I suddenly feel like twenty years old again, at the Naval Academy, waiting to get chewed out by my instructor.
“I don’t know why I do that,” I say, voice going flat.
“Shut people out when I get rattled. I’ve always done it, even when it makes things worse.
” I rub the heel of my palm over my knee.
“You’re not the only one who thought it was all going to fall apart. ”
She gives a little huff, the side of her mouth lifting. “Funny, you don’t seem like someone who gets scared.”
I shake my head. “That’s the problem. I’m scared shitless most of the time.
” I let out a nervous laugh, and I force myself to breathe.
“Last night, with your dad, I wanted to take the table and throw it through the fucking window. He was way out of line. I didn’t realize how much of an asshole he could be—even to his own daughter. ”
Georgia crosses her ankles, drawing her legs up.
The way she curls into herself, I realize she’s still expecting me to pull the rug out, like I’ll say something nice and then pull away for good.
“He’s always been that way,” she says, picking a stray thread from the comforter.
“He never really saw me. Not the way I wanted him to.”
She keeps her head down, so I lean forward, elbows on my knees, closing the space.
“Listen,” I begin, then stop, running a hand through my hair.
“I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.
I fucked up walking away from you that first time.
After we… you know. I acted like it was a mistake, and that wasn’t fair.
I just—I’ve never…” The words tangle in my mouth, and my throat gets tight.
“I don’t want to be another man telling you what to do.
Especially not after what happened last night. ”
She glances up, her expression unreadable. “You said I was a mistake.”
I flinch, hating myself. “Yeah. I did.” I shake my head, trying to force the words out properly this time. “That was bullshit. I was afraid, and I acted like a coward. I told myself that if I could kill it right away, I wouldn’t have to feel anything. I wouldn’t have to risk pissing off your dad.”
Georgia’s eyes shimmer, but she holds them steady on mine, her lips pursed.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I say, voice dropping. “And I’m sorry for not seeing how much your dad had you boxed in. I should have stood up for you right then and there, before you ever had to storm out of there. The whole thing was a fucking curveball.”
I expect her to cut me off, to tell me she doesn’t need a white knight, but she just sits there, breathing slowly.
“I guess I just…” I spread my hands over the damp towel. “I wanted to be the one who made things easier for you. Not worse.”
Georgia laughs, shaking her head as her eyes glisten with tears. “No one’s ever made things easy for me. And I don’t know how you could’ve expected to fix my life.”
I give a sheepish shrug. “Maybe not make you feel smaller.” I lean closer, unable to stop myself. “And I swear, if Robert says one more thing about you—”
“I’ll survive it,” she interjects. “I always have.” Her chin lifts, and I can see the fierceness in her, the same fierceness that floored me the moment we starting chatting at her birthday.
I reach over and take her hand. Her fingers are small, cold, but when I lace mine through them, she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she lets out a breath, eyes closing for a beat, like she’s just been waiting for this.
My own relief is palpable. Like I’ve come in from a hurricane and finally found the anchor line. I try to memorize every inch of her— the tiny freckle on her thumb, the faint blue vein at her wrist. I could sit here for hours, just holding on.
“I really don’t want to fuck this up,” I say, finally. “I know I might anyway, and I don’t have the solution with your dad. I just know that we’ll take it day by day, like Emmett and Miles said.”
She squeezes my fingers. “So just try,” she whispers. “Just… be honest. Even if it sucks.”
“Deal,” I breathe out. “I think I can do that.”
Georgia leans in, pressing her shoulder against mine, the weight of her reassuring. The yacht rocks under us, and I inhale the scent of her perfume. Her head rests lightly on my arm, and the pressure in my chest fades.
“Talk to me about your past,” Georgia’s voice comes out almost sleepy. “Tell me why you are the way you are.” She peers up at me with those pretty eyes.
Oh, fuck. Here we go. I sigh hesitantly. “You want to know why I keep screwing this up?”
She turns her head, chin resting on my arm. “Yeah,” she says, eyes soft in the dim light. “I do.”
I brush some of her hair from her face. “My marriage was a train wreck. Catherine was…” I search for the words, struggling to come up with the right way to say it.
“Intoxicating, but also impossible. She made me feel like I was a superhero, but she was always just out of reach. Nothing was ever enough, and I spent years trying to make it work.”
Georgia listens, nodding as if some part of her gets it.
“The day she left, she told me I was incapable of real intimacy. That I was always going to be alone, because I didn’t know how to let anyone actually in.
” I pause for a moment, trying to decide where to go next.
“For a long time, I thought she was right. Still do, sometimes. Something in me just doesn’t open up easily. ”
My eyes drift to the photographs on the wall, most of them of my military days or shots from the boat.
“I think maybe that’s why I’m so scared of what this is.
With you.” I turn to her. “Because it feels like the first real thing since then, and I keep waiting for it to get ripped away. It only makes sense that it would.”
Georgia’s fingers tighten around mine, then let go. I’m expecting her to pull away, but instead, she swings her legs over, kneeling on the bed to face me. Her palm lands on my jaw, forcing me to look at her.
“Maybe it’s not about being capable,” she murmurs. “Maybe it’s about finding someone worth the risk.”
I want to argue, but all I can do is swallow hard.
Georgia’s thumb brushes my cheek, and she leans in. “You’re not alone, Brody. You never were. You just had to stop pretending you don’t care.”
The urge to kiss her is so strong, I have to fight myself not to lunge at her. I hold her gaze, searching for any sign that she’s just bullshitting me, but there’s nothing but conviction in her eyes. She wants this.
She wants me. All of me, fucked-up and failing.
I close the gap, kissing her gently. Her lips part for me, her hands coming up to frame my face.
Her body moves over mine, insistent but cautious. I let her set the pace, hands on her hips, feeling the tension drain out of my shoulders as she presses closer. She kisses me harder, fingers threading through my damp hair, tugging until I gasp against her lips.
She pulls back, eyes filled with lust. “Promise you won’t disappear on me this time… or ever.”
“I won’t,” I breathe, barely recognizing my own voice. “Not unless you want me to.”
She straddles me, pushing my back into the headboard. Her hands explore, tracing the lines of my chest, lingering on the tattoo I got when I was in the service, and then up to my shoulder, where she leans in and plants her lips.
I slide my palms up under her tank, finding bare skin and goosebumps.
She lets me pull it off, leaving her naked from the waist up, her nipples tight and perfect.
I want to look at her naked breasts forever, but she’s already working the button on her shorts, shucking them off with a quick, almost angry motion.
She’s on me again, this time pinning my wrists to the bed as she kisses her way down my neck. Her mouth is hot, her tongue relentless, and when she grinds against my cock through the towel, I almost lose it right there.
“Fuck, Georgie, I need you.”
“I need you,” she whines. She lets me go, and I flip her, pinning her to the mattress, holding her wrists in one hand. I bury my face in her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, then kissing down her collarbone, her chest, her stomach and back up to her lips.
She wraps her legs around me, drawing me in, and when I push inside her, she gasps, clinging to me as her eyes hold mine. We stay like that for a moment, just breathing, holding each other, until I start to move.