13. Brooke
”The chair coverings should be cream, not ecru. The resort said they didn”t have any in stock. Can you believe it?”Caroline demands.
The Zoom call to go over last-minute sorority weekend planning was supposed to be over ages ago.I”ve already done what I said I would do.Now, they”re going through every tiny detail.
Kill me.
Brooke: I can’t believe you dodged Caroline’s planning call.
Ruby: I was performing emergency surgery on an eighteen-year-old kid who impaled himself on a bong.
Brooke: You’re a lucky bitch.
I turned my video off to sift through the piles of designer clothes I dragged out of my wardrobe so I can find some pieces to sell until I get this contract.
But as I go through one dress and bag after another, it’s hard to identify any I could bear to part with. I have amazing memories of all of them, ideas of ways I haven’t worn them yet.
”Brooke, are you even listening?” Caroline”s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I click on my video, tilting the camera so it’s not obvious I’m on the floor surrounded by clothes. ”Sorry, what?”
”I said, can you confirm the table chart for meals?”
”It’s done. I’ve emailed it over.”
“Good. Hannah was supposed to do it, but she’s been a flake.”
I frown. “I thought she was pulling eighty-hour weeks at her firm?”
“Everyone has an excuse.” Caroline sighs, nodding as she scans something on her screen next to the camera. “That’s it.”
I’m ready to hang up when she adds, “Brooke, would you stay on the line with me?”
The others click off, and it”s just the two of us.
”Listen, I”m not sure how to say things so I’ll just say it.” Her thick lash extensions blink. “I’m bringing Kevin to the reunion.”
“I see.” I don’t let on that I already knew, but I’m glad I did.
“I know you dated for two years”—four, actually—“and you were completely obsessed with him. I don”t want it to be weird.”
My brows lift. ”I was never obsessed with him, Caroline. We grew up together, and it ended.”
In truth, the idea of the two of them makes me slightly nauseated, but I’m not about to admit it.
Her lips pinch together, and she plays with her hair. “I think it’s getting serious, or I wouldn’t bring him. Because sisterhood comes first.”
“Great,” I say. “Just so we’re clear, I’m speaking to Elise about her brand sponsorship.”
“You are?”
“I know you’re probably in the running too, but you’d care way too much about sisterhood to let this get in the way.”
Caroline nods, but I see the doubt in her eyes. “We don”t need any drama during the reunion.”
”I”m a big girl. I can handle seeing my ex.”
She smiles. ”I know you can. No matter what mess you land in, you bounce right back.”
My hand forms a fist, manicured nails digging into my palm.
She’s talking about what happened at the end of junior year.
”Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?” I ask tightly.
She shakes her head. ”No, I think that”s everything. Thanks again, Brooke. You”re a lifesaver.”
“Miles and I will see you at the reunion.”
”You mean Miles Garrett, that basketball player you had a crush on through college?”
My finger hovers over the “Call End” button.
“When you were dating Kevin,” she goes on slyly, “we always thought you secretly liked Miles.”
Surprise jolts me. “He was in the NBA when we were in school.”
“Sure, but he used to come around.” She laughs, a tinkling sound. ”Don”t get your panties in a twist. It’s cute you’re still chasing after Miles after all these years. Why haven’t I seen any pictures of you?”
“We’re keeping it on the down-low.”
Her slow smile is predatory. “Maybe there’s something to jocks after all. I mean, they get a free ride through school, and they don’t even have to get good grades.”
My fingers brush one of the piles of clothes and land on the Louboutins Miles had fixed for me.
“Seems to me that while most people we knew were milking family contacts or popping pills to get into law school, Miles figured out how to make millions a year with his hands.” I turn the shoe between my fingers. “They’re big hands too. Compared to every guy I’ve dated before, he definitely has enormous… hands. I’ll see you at the reunion,” I say breezily, ending the call.
Her pretty face freezes in a satisfying O before the image disappears.
That was a load of performative bullshit. But I’m most annoyed over her dig about Miles. He’s smart and funny and kind and talented, and he gets what’s important. More than most of the guys I went to school with. Definitely more than Kevin.
Did I have a crush on him in college?
Sure, I stared at him when he took me for pancakes, imagined what it might be like if he kissed me.
More than kissed me.
I blame it on hormones and being twenty and sexually adventurous.
I flop onto my bed and pull out my phone.
Brooke: Caroline wanted to know if I was cool with her bringing Kevin.
Ruby: And of course you are.
Brooke: The coolest. Wait, why am I the coolest?
Ruby: Because you’re bringing this man.
She sends through a picture and… Hello.
Evidently, he did an underwear campaign. How did I not know about this?
He”s shot on a dark backdrop, lounging back in a chair.In another picture, he”s lying on his side.
Ruby: You failed to mention he was an underwear model, Little Sis.
I’ve heard they stuff boxer briefs for shoots like that.
If they don’t… I have no clue what’s in there or how it would fit in me or any other woman.
I suddenly want to find out.
Every ridge of his abs is decadent. But it’s the expression on his face, as though he’s looking straight at me, into me, that does me in.
I’m thinking about him on top of me at laser tag, how hard and strong he felt.
I do a search and find more pictures. Heat spreads through me as I stare at the screen.
His chiseled features and toned body are unreal.
How he looks is nothing compared to how he feels.
Truth is, I’ve been thinking about it ever since he tackled me at laser tag.
“Act like I”m in head over heels for you? Like I have been for a while? Game on, Princess.”
For a moment, I imagine how it would’ve felt if he’d meant it. Having him stake his claim on me, those blue eyes turning possessive.
Even if it’s fake, I can still acknowledge our chemistry. Especially since Aliya is out of the picture.
Because fighting it is killing me.
I ditch the computer and reach toward the bedside table for my vibe. I keep my phone open to one of the pictures as I close my eyes and imagine my fingers running over Miles’s chiseled stomach.
My heart beats faster.
I think about his abs, his tongue, his hands.
My hand moves slowly down my stomach, pushing down my panties. I tuck my vibrator between my legs and press it to my clit.
The vibration is on low, and I press the button to raise it a notch. My hips buck toward it. Toward him.
I think about his warm breath against my neck.
How he felt over me.
My fingers push inside me, working my clit and teasing my entrance at the same time.
I imagine how it would feel to have him drag me down, rake his lips across mine. Grind his hips against me, make me feel how hard he is everywhere.
In the dark, with a little more time, he could have slid his fingers down my pants. Made me ride his hand until I came.
I lean back, pressing the vibe harder against my clit.
In my mind, Miles is lying over me, his cock deep inside me. Those blue eyes are hot with want.
My hips move faster, my fingers sliding into my pussy. I”m so wet and so turned on and so frustrated that I can barely think.
I hit the button again for another gear.
The toy doesn’t respond.
I lift it away for a moment, and a blinking light alerts me to a low battery.
No, no, no.
I bury it back between my legs and focus on the vibration that’s left.
I picture him thrusting. How good he’d feel, the scent of his skin, the low rasp of his voice as he said my name.
My neck arches back, my legs trembling.
The vibe dies.
No fucking way.
My phone rings and I jump.
It’s him.
“You sound weird,” Miles says when I answer the phone on the fourth ring. “What, did I interrupt you getting off to me?”
I hit mute long enough to scream into a pillow, then drop the exhausted vibe in the bedside table like a dirty secret and slam the drawer.
“Princess? Still there?”
I press unmute and take a steadying breath. “Just finished a call on last-minute sorority business before the weekend.”
“Like flaunting your incredible boyfriend?”
“Naturally.”
“So… why aren”t you gloating?”
Because my vibe quit and I was five seconds from a really great orgasm.
I lift a shoulder even though he can’t see. “Caroline’s being Caroline. She has a problem with anyone who doesn’t do things exactly the way she would.” I think of her comments about Hannah.
Hannah, who nearly single-handedly organized a dozen events for us throughout school, who was the first to offer help with a smile or a shoulder to cry on.
“Why are you friends with them?”
I catch my own eye in the mirror over my dresser. “At the time, it seemed like a great idea. I never had sisters. It was like a guaranteed friend group.”
“Like a basketball team.”
“No. A basketball team’s only good as long as you’re winning.” I flop onto my back and hug a pillow to my chest.
My mind drifts back to Caroline’s skepticism about Miles. “Anyway, we have one issue.”
“Which is?”
“If we’re supposed to be dating, it’s going to look like it came out of nowhere when we show up together. It’s too convenient.”
”So, we have to sell it when we get there.”
“Or…” I shift onto an elbow.”If we sell it ahead of time, it”ll take less convincing next weekend.”
“What do you mean?”
A hint of guilt rises up, and I brush it away. ”The girls will understand if we’re trying to keep things under the radar, but I need to have a few pictures of the two of us. Otherwise, it’s weird. I don’t have to post them publicly, but one in the reunion thread would help.”
“Pics of us doing what?”
I have an image of me lying next to him in that advertisement, him wearing only boxer briefs. Those blue eyes staring into my soul in that unnerving way they do. Me straddling him, feeling him between my thighs. Miles grabbing the back of my head, his fingers tangled in my hair as he drags me?—
I clear my throat and click into Pinterest, searching for cute couple’s photoshoots.
“Something like this.” I download couple cute ideas and send them. “Did you get them?”
“Just came through.”
There’s a pause, and for a heart-stopping second, I swear he’s going to call bullshit.
“Let’s do it. Tonight,” he says.
I roll onto my side. In the mirror, my brows are high on my face. “Wait. Don’t you have a game?”
The Kodiaks are hosting visitors in a high-stakes game.
“Come watch me play. We’ll meet up after.”
Watch me play.
Not the Kodiaks. Not my brother.
My stomach does a little flip.
I hang up and drop the phone on the bed.
It’s barely a minute before I slide my hand down my stomach again, no vibrator required.
I might be a teeny bit for real into my fake boyfriend…
Because the echo of, “Come watch me play,” is all it takes.