Chapter 4
“El?” Broderick’s evident shock gave way to one word: just my name as he blinked and staggered forward. I couldn’t say the same. Exhausted, flustered, and more than a little pissed off, it took all my faculties to remember how the hell to close my mouth. Fuck. Me. Nearly all six feet of warm umber skin and lean muscle were on display and glistening wet from an apparent dip in the pool. I followed the line of his gorgeous abs down to those navy-blue swim trunks before my brain caught up and yanked my gaze to those perplexed brown eyes. He was already closing the gap, broad hands gripping the towel haphazardly wrapped around his broad shoulders.
“H-hi,” I finally managed to stammer. What the hell was that pathetic broken syllable? I’d delivered keynote speeches to thousands of people, live streamed lessons to three times that, argued with CEOs of billion-dollar companies about the long-term impacts of their economic choices, but my hormone-induced high school heart throb reduced me to utter stupidity with his audacity to possess abs and say my name. Just like that, I was sixteen years old again, pouring my heart out at my junior prom, only for him to walk away, leaving me staring after him into the mist blanket over the parking lot.
An entire lifetime took place between then and now, so many fresh memories of his laugh, his quick wit, his ability to analyze a situation in a circle until everyone in the room was questioning their sensibilities. He’d been there for me—for us—through hell and high water, through losing Pops, and nobody had hesitated to volunteer him when we needed an extra hand. Rhyett and Jameson called him one of our ‘bonus brothers’ alongside Max. But he’d never been that for me. He’d always been…Broderick. Somehow, the fifteen years of new memories didn’t erase the ache in my chest as I watched him close the distance.
“You okay? You look stressed.”
“Oh,” I sighed, eyes sliding shut as I forced myself to swallow my pathetic unrequited feelings and gather my composure. Travel had been exhausting in the most literal sense, only to arrive at this clusterfuck. “Evidently, speaking at an event doesn’t guarantee your room these days. They double booked.”
Brows winging up, his gorgeous brown eyes rounded. “You’re… you’re speaking this week?”
“If I can find somewhere to crash in this damn city, yeah. Principles for Women in Leadership on Wednesday morning. But everything’s booked. We’re vying for space with an NFL game, and Taylor Swift, and apparently not even Vegas was prepared for all three of us at once.” Tears pricked at my eyes as the explanation poured through my lips. Kicking myself, my brain tried to muddle through if I was close to my cycle, just overstimulated from the long day, or if an unexpected Broderick sighting had triggered memories of home. Aaand, now I’m homesick, for the love of God. Annoyed with myself, I sucked down a steadying breath and huffed, “It’s fine, honestly, I’m just tired. I’ll figure it out. I’m sure there’s something on the outskirts of the suburbs or a town or two over.”
His brow furrowed, and I studied the familiar amber flecks in his eyes as they darted past me, his hand vaguely damp where it settled on my shoulder. “Hi, ma’am, there must be a mistake. Ms. Rhodes and I are associates, and I can assure you, she leaves nothing to chance. Surely, you and I can both agree that if she’s speaking at the event, she needs a room on site, and it would be insane for the resort to not prioritize making this right.”
In that one blink, he swapped from my Broderick to Dr. Broderick Allen, and my damn knees went weak. Pathetic. Honestly, Elora, we are above this, I hissed to myself internally. Brain Elora and body Elora needed to get on the same damn page.
“As I told your friend, Mr?—”
“Allen,” he supplied with a smile that could make any female buckle. I watched the front desk girl’s skin go muddy as she attempted to keep her composure with the deity now leaning on her marble counter.
“Dr. Allen,” I chirped dumbly, as if that elevation in title would somehow help our case.
“Yes,” the little blonde smiled sympathetically, a trace of pink coloring her pretty cheeks when she met Broderick’s gaze. Same babes, same. “Well, Dr. Allen, as I told your friend, unfortunately, we had a huge system error. We are deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but there is nothing I can do. The computer booked nearly twice as many guests as rooms, and we didn’t catch the error until the convention began checking in. We’re offering an incentive to attendees to allow speakers to stay in exchange for credit, but so far, there’ve been no takers.”
“Well, surely you have rooms in a sister hotel?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re completely booked.”
“I understand you’re just doing your job, and this isn’t your fault,” he cocked his head to catch her name plate, his voice patient and level as ever. God, why was that hot? I ground my teeth. Everything about Broderick had been hot from the summer when he showed up with puberty-induced veins in his forearms. “Hallie, but I’m sure you agree this is unacceptable. Who can we speak with to resolve this for Ms. Rhodes?”
“Broderick, it’s fine,” I interjected. “She’s exhausted her resources; I’ll just go call around?—”
“Worst case, you crash with me,” he supplied matter-of-factly, as if nothing about that would be in the least bit uncomfortable. The sudden catapult of my heart begged to differ.
I blinked, tucking my now-haggard curls behind an ear. My gaze traced over that immaculate, lean frame, a lone water droplet making a race down the length of his torso. Absolutely not. In no universe could I survive a week in five-hundred square feet with that, without humiliating myself like I did all those years ago. Broderick’s loyalty had always been, and would always be, to my brothers. There wasn’t even a discussion to be had, of that he had been abundantly clear. “Don’t be silly. I could never impose.”
“Like I didn’t practically live on your couch growing up.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I know Hallie can help us out. If you grab yourself a cup of tea, I’ll meet you by the fireplace when we have some solutions. In the meantime, call around as much as you’d like. We’ll all figure this out.”
My eyes narrowed, ego bristling. “Like I just said, we’ve already exhausted her resources.”
“So, I’ll exhaust someone else’s,” he countered cheerfully with a little smile that spelled a hellish mental loop for whoever they doomed to respond to the escalation call. I almost felt bad. Almost. If it weren’t for the ache in my fingers, still clinging to my luggage, I might have sincerely dragged him away before he latched onto his next target. The manager appeared at that moment, and with a sigh, I turned to find out what I could.
As luck would have it,nobody within a ninety-minute radius seemed to have vacancies. Well, unless I was brave enough to march down to the seedy-looking hotel available by the hour, but I needed to shower just from talking to the front desk guy on the phone. The Summit’s social media forum was full of attendees, all reporting back as we found new information, and they’d begun a roommate file. Beds were filled as quickly as people posted them, and I’d just hocked my phone into my bag to massage my throbbing temples when Broderick sidled up beside me on the front curb of the resort, with a prime view of the illuminated valet booth. He tossed a gold foiled envelope in my lap and sat shoulder-to-shoulder with a sigh before placing a keycard in my palm.
“They had something?” I chirped, hopes instantly dashed when I saw the stiff smile as he feigned nonchalance. I knew him too well to believe it.
“They had an extra keycard for my room,” he said, shrugging. “And you’ve got over a grand on that gift card to use at any of their locations. You and Hads are the only people I know who might actually get their money out of that.” My younger sister, Hadlee—or Hads, for short—was a travel blogger, and bounced around just as often, if not more than I did.
“Well, thanks. I’m sorry for interrupting your swim, or whatever you were off to.”
“Nah, I was done, anyway. I’m sorry they fucked up your trip.”
“Well, thanks anyway.”
“Anytime, El. You know that.”
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. He’d always had my back…just not in the way I wanted.
“So… I’ll show you to the room?” He clapped his hands to his thighs before standing, swiping a suitcase in one hand and offering me the other. I stared at it for a beat before accepting the help to my feet.
“Broderick, I’m not so sure I should?—”
“This is what pullout sofas are for.”
I bit my lip and didn’t miss the way he tracked it before gluing his eyes to mine. That was why he was so infuriating. Everything about our private interactions screamed I wasn’t alone in my infatuation—at the very least, attraction—but in the more than decade since I’d been of age, he’d never made a damn move.
Move on dot org. That needed to be my new life motto. It was high time I just trucked right along and forgot about him. But as that bright smile flashed wider, my stomach flopped, and I resolved to be single forever.
“Stop thinking so hard and come invade my space.”
“You swear it’s not a bother?”
“I swear. You won’t even notice me. I’ll sleep on the spare bed and be gone before you wake in the morning.”
Broderick
We both stared,slack jawed, at what I could only describe as a crime scene on the hideaway mattress. Gouged holes leaked stuffing from the already-thin cushion. A dark rust-colored stain spread out in a great circle with small splatters across the corner. My livid call to the front desk resulted in as much progress as my passionate petition of Hallie and her manager. A credit to the restaurant—dinner, on the house—as an apology for the inconvenience. The hotel was as hyper-extended as a leaf spring with too large a load.
My eyes were still closed, thumb and forefinger pinching my temples as El paced from one side of the room to the other.
“What the hell do I do now?”
Sighing, resigned to the seventh level of hell I was damning myself to, I motioned to the bed.
Her eyes flew wide. “Absolutely not.”
“Got an alternate?” I countered.
“I’m working on it.” She lifted her phone and demanded, “Anything?” Her scowl said whoever filled the line didn’t have answers, either. “Come on, work your tech magic. There’s gotta be something.”
Smiling wryly, I said, “Hey, Maxipad.”
She shot me a glare, but amusement tugged on those glossed lips. “Broderick says hi…yes, that Broderick… He’s attending, what do you think he’s doing here? … He’s got me in his room at the moment, but there’s gotta be another option… No, of course not.” Her gaze flicked back to mine before she whirled towards the city, lowering her voice to a hiss I couldn’t decipher as she inevitably retaliated Max’s snark back in his direction.
This was fine. This would be fine. We were both adults. Professionals. Off fucking limits. It’s not like we hadn’t been camping together dozens of times. This time was just…alone. With a murder scene in the corner. On one queen sized mattress with?—
Nope. Nope, I was fucked. And there was no un-fucking once properly fucked.
Needing to do something with my hands and not stare at the disturbing stains any longer, I walked over and folded the hideaway back into place inside its disarming exterior—which did nothing to ease my need to wash my hands. Maybe I’d hop on the forums and find a room full of dudes, and just crash in there. I sure as hell wasn’t leaving El to find a place in filthy Sin City alone.
No room for one of their speakers, for fucks sake. Who got fired today?
“Yeah, okay,” El said with a forlorn sigh. “Keep me posted, please? Yes, I’ll eat… No, I won’t be a bitch… Okay… Yes please… Love you, Max.”
The call disconnected, and she rocked on her heels before saying, “Welp,” popping her lips on the ‘p’ like Jameson so often did. I swallowed hard. Oh, fuck. Max knew. Which meant Alice would know. Which meant Paxton and Finn would hear and Jameson would inevitably pick up the trail at some point. And then I was well and truly fucked. How does a man explain his way out of this? What grown man would believe the tale?
El grimaced with a little shrug. “How do you feel about Mexican food, roomie?”
How I Met Your Mother played softly on the television as background noise—a nervous tic El developed in high school, usually reserved for when she wasn’t feeling well. One thing that always impressed me about this woman was how much food she could put down. I knew NFL players that couldn’t eat what she could in one sitting. Maybe it was growing up gorging during our football games, and maybe it was competing with eleven other mouths for food at the table. Eat it or lose it. Whatever the reason, her ability to inhale an entire combo platter and follow it up with dessert had always been entertaining.
Sometime during her nervous pacing, after she’d ordered takeout but before she flipped on the television, I’d remembered to go shower and clothe myself. She’d been marginally less frantic when I returned, the too-small bed covered in a towel and aluminum tins full of our favorites. We ate in silence, watching someone else’s shit show for a few minutes before returning to our own. She was playing it cool, like I was, but I could see those cogs turning.
“We should get some shuteye,” I stated, hours after I’d intended to pass the fuck out. She nodded, but her eyes were far away, and I waited, even as her long fingers nervously fluttered together.
“Ground rules,” she declared abruptly.
“Pardon?”
“We should set some, right?”
I raised a lone brow, equally amused and apprehensive about what was about to come out of her smart mouth. Nobody in Mistyvale could push my buttons quite like El. “I’ve known you for thirty-one years, but sure, yeah, ground rules.”
“No sleeping naked,” she blurted out as color stained her tan cheeks.
I barked a laugh, blinking pointedly. “You really feel like that needed to be stated?”
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, nibbling on her lower lip and motioning vaguely at me. “I don’t know if you sleep clothed. I do know that was plenty of exposure for my eyeballs for one week this afternoon. Which reminds me, if you bring someone back to the room, put a sock on the damn door.”
“Now, come on.”
“What?” she questioned innocently. The woman had one hell of a poker face—predictably learned from her brothers—and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out if she was being sarcastic or not. “My eyes would never recover.”
“You seriously think I’m voluntarily rooming with my best friends’ little sister and I’m going to bring back a hookup? Shit, El, at least pretend to have an ounce of faith.”
“Okay, my bad. I just…this is weird, right? This is weird,” she repeated, as if seeking my confirmation.
“Only because you’re making it weird,” I pointed out, shoulders tight as I fought the need to defend myself. Her brothers and I might have done the whole free-love thing in college, but it had been years since I’d been a casual hookup kind of guy.
“See! It is. It’s weird.”
“You afraid I can’t keep my hands to myself or something?”
“I didn’t say it was you I’m worried about.”
Something I couldn’t read flashed in her expression. That was odd. I could usually read everyone, especially El. “Are you insinuating I need to worry about wandering hands?”
“I’m notoriously…a cuddler,” she said. If she weren’t so clearly uncomfortable, it would have been fun to see the illustrious Elora Rhodes fumbling for purchase.
“Well, I’m notoriously a space heater, so that should mitigate that concern. Plus, I doubt you’ll be up for canoodling once I state my proposed bylaws.”
“Bylaws?” she yipped, a broad smile cracking through her discomfort.
“You get roommate rules, but I don’t?” I countered, smirking.
“I’m not saying that. Hit me, Professor.”
Shaking my head, I supplied, “Funny you should say that. I get one philosophical musing per day, and you have to deal.” She groaned dramatically and suddenly I was seventeen, standing back in the Rhodes’ basement, bickering about Hypatia and the value of philosophical freedom. Chuckling, I said, “That’s the price, El. I get to pick your brain on a concept a day.”
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes as she finally reached to unclip her sleek high heels. “But I’m not a teenager anymore. I need my beauty sleep. No midnight musings.”
“Breakfast, mid-toothbrush, all fair game.”
“Speaking of mid-toothbrush. You’re not like my brothers, are you? No clumps of toothpaste in the sink.” She wrinkled her cute little nose as I shook my head. “It’s disgusting.”
“I’ll give you that one.” Running a palm over my jaw, I suggested, “We trade shower days. Even dates for me, and you take odds.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. Besides, I shower daily.”
Immediate regret filled my bones, because now I was picturing her in the shower. Dumbass move. Filling my mind with random regurgitations from my dissertation, I looked anywhere but at El, running a hand over the back of my neck.
“Listen, we can trade, but be prepared for negotiations.”
Smirking, she jabbed, “Like there’s ever been any other option for us.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes, Rhodes.”
“I think you have that backwards,” she teased, tossing her shoes toward the murder sofa. She had me there. It had always been Elora pushing me to do better, stealing my records a few years behind us, always in the back of my mind when I was tempted to settle for my version of mediocrity. Honestly, I’d been shocked she didn’t make herself go out for the football team just to see if she’d be a better running back.
“Yeah,” I agreed, a tense silence falling between us. When she rolled that lower lip between her teeth again, I smirked. “El. It’s fine. You’re not in the way. I’m not letting you march out into Sin City to find a room all alone. I have contained the evidence inside the couch, and we have to be downstairs in—” I glanced at my wrist but realized I’d taken off my watch and fumbled for my phone instead. “Seven hours.”
“You’re right. It’s…just like old times,” she said with false bravado, flashing that smile she used for YouTube and stage appearances. It was the Elora the rest of the world got, not the one I grew up with, and I immediately remembered how much I loathed it. I was about to agree with her anyway when my phone rang, and I looked down to see my mother on the screen.
“I should take this.”
“Say hi for me?”
“Will do,” I said, rising to step past her, and absolutely not inhaling the subtle lilac perfume lingering on her skin. The snick of the patio door clicking shut returned the air to my lungs a beat before I slid the answer button and said, “Hey, Mom.”