11. Brooke
11
brOOKE
S neaking out of your roommate’s bed without waking him is harder than it sounds.
Especially when his massive arm is around you and his leg is pinning yours.
But after last time, being the person who trusted him only to wind up alone? I’m not about to do that again.
“Hey! I didn’t know you were bringing a friend,” Nova chirps when I arrive at the gallery where she’s showing pieces. “Thought you only looked after Waffles when Miles was away?”
“I’m going for dogsitter of the year.” I pass her a coffee.
She walks with me the length of the gallery where her paintings are being hung for an event starting next week. Most are still covered.
“I knew it would be the perfect backdrop for our little photo shoot.”
“And I’m grateful.” I shrug out of my jacket, stripping down to the dark green longline bra and leggings. I didn’t want to risk sticking around at home to do my hair, so I brought a few supplies and touch up my hair and makeup there.
“Maybe against the brick?” I gesture to the textured wall, painted white.
She does a few test shots on her phone and I put on music.
“Come on, let’s sell some leggings,” Nova says with a wide smile.
We start taking pictures. I channel my dance training, starting with elegant poses. Then I shift to more casual ones.
It’s fun being in front of the camera, but even more, I love hanging out with my best friend.
Even Waffles gets in on the excitement. I pull him into one of the photos.
After a few more, I reach for the nearest painting and find the tape attaching the wrapping paper. “May I?” I ask my friend with a pleading look.
“I suppose.”
I peel off the brown paper and reveal the painting, an abstract swirl of bright colors that bring to mind sunsets over the mountain. “This is incredible. It needs to be in the next one.”
“You know you’re glowing,” Nova says after a few more shots.
“It’s the light,” I say.
“I think it has more to do with where you ran off to last night.”
Guilt rises up. “Was it that obvious?”
“Only to me.” She winks.
Ending up in bed with Miles again wasn’t part of the plan. Seeing how much he wanted me after I’d accidentally sent him a sexy pic made it really hard to remember why we shouldn’t.
The way he made me come in secret at Nova’s made it even harder.
“I’m a little surprised he didn’t want to come with you.”
“Technically, he wasn’t awake when I left.”
“You snuck out.” She gasps. “You ran away and took his dog with you?—”
“Dogsitter,” I remind her.
“Does Waffles deserve to be used as an excuse?”
The Frenchie hears his name and immediately perks up, cocking his little head with a curious whine.
“Don’t you guilt me too,” I tell him before turning back to Nova. “It’s not a big deal. We have chemistry. It boiled over. Again.”
“What if it’s more than that?”
I don’t have an answer. I’ve never had someone go to so much effort, and trying to decide why is beyond me right now.
My gaze focuses on the painting once again. “Why isn’t this on your social?”
“I haven’t had a second. Since the wedding and moving into the new house, plus the start of the new season, we’ve been living in chaos.”
We unwrap the rest of the paintings and I snap pictures with my phone. “Okay. You’re going to post this one now and another tomorrow and this on the weekend. When does the show open?”
“Saturday.”
“Hmm. No, let’s do it this way.” I explain my changes. “You’ll have a line around the block.”
“I’m not sure how to do that.”
“Here. Give me your phone.” I download a scheduling app and link it to her social, then I queue up the posts we talked about. “There. All you have to do is respond to the comments.”
Nova claps her hands in excitement. “You’re hired.”
I laugh, retrieving my coffee from where I set it. “You know I’ll help anytime. It’s the least I can do for you helping with my little photoshoot.”
“I’m serious, Brooke. This goes beyond the scope of a little photoshoot. Can I hire you?” The earnest hope on my friend’s face makes me consider her request.
“What do you have coming up?”
She tells me what she’d like to do for the next few months.
“If I were you…” I flip over a napkin and mock up a quick content plan on the fly.
“That’s perfect! I’ll try it. Will you try something for me?”
I frown. “What’s that?”
“Don’t run away from Miles. Don’t over analyze it or try to put a label on it or decide what it should be. Just have fun for a while.”
* * *
MILES
“Tomorrow’s home game marks the start of the midseason tournament. I’ve got two things to say heading in. First, props to Garrett,” Coach says. “That was beast mode. Keep it up.”
Guys clap me on the back.
“Second…we have an addition for practice today.”
A cheer goes up as Atlas comes around the corner and pulls off his hoodie.
“Nice of you to finally join us,” Jay says with a grin of relief.
If there’s one thing our title last year taught us, it’s that once you win, you have to keep winning.
I wish I could say my only distraction is Grams. Of the facilities that have gotten back to me about Grams, the best one is crazy expensive. I sent a note to my accountant to ask how many years I can afford to keep her there. Yeah I make bank today, but you never know how soon a career could end.
But it’s more than that.
Last night at the party, my roommate gave me one “fuck me” look and my control evaporated.
I’m used to women hitting on me but it wasn’t just any woman.
The second she took my hand and led me to that room, I couldn’t pretend to be immune.
Hooking up with her in Vail was hot.
But making her come in my bed with my name on her lips was an experience I’ll never forget.
Problem is, I’m craving more than one night.
Especially after waking up without her this morning.
I should be grateful she didn’t try to make this into something it can’t be.
I don’t share my bed with women. I’m chill about a lot of things but where I put my head down is my own place. So, it’s hard to put my finger on why this is bugging me so much.
My phone rings and I grab it without looking at the call display.
“Yeah?” I say into the handset.
“Garrett. Hope you’re sitting down.”
It’s my agent. We don’t talk much except leading up to contract years.
“What is it?”
“There’s a deal on the horizon. A shoe sponsorship.”
I blink. “You sure you called the right number.”
I’m the guy everyone goes to for help planning a party or pulling a prank.
I’m not the shoe deal kind of guy.
He barks out a laugh. “You’re in the running but they want to see more before making a decision.”
“How much?”
“Not confirmed but it’s out there.” He names a figure that has my jaw going slack.
It’s almost as much as my entire contract. It would make a difference in my Grams’s life, ensuring sure I could provide for her as long as she needs it.
“Their brand is wholesome. They want someone everyone’s talking about, but they’ve had their eye on you for a while.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Easy. Keep playing the best ball of your life and don’t let anything distract you.”
* * *
I’m still turning over the potential shoe sponsorship when I get up to my place.
Even though my year’s been strong so far, it’s not obvious why they picked me over the hundreds of other guys.
But every thought evaporates when the door swings wide before I can turn the handle.
“There you are!” Brooke hovers in the doorway.
She’s wearing these green leggings and a matching top with a Kodiaks zippered sweatshirt over top. Her face is perfectly made up, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Waffles pokes his head between her feet, a purple bandana around his neck.
When he sees me, he dashes over, a squirming ball of energy and happy yips.
My bag lands on the floor as I bend down to scratch his ears, which I swear are softer than usual.
“That smell…” It’s heaven. Cinnamon and sugar.
“I baked. You like cinnamon rolls?”
Fuck me .
I didn’t expect to be greeted by some kind of cheerleader-with-a-spatula fantasy.
I grab my bag and take it inside, letting the door click after me.
Brooke heads back into the kitchen and bends to open the oven. Her ass looks so fucking good in those leggings that it’s all I can do not to drag her against me right this second.
“New outfit?”
Let everything in the oven burn. I’ll eat the charred remains with a grin.
“It’s from the same company that offered me a collaboration. Nova and I were down at a gallery putting some shots together for a post.”
She sets a plate with one sticky bun on it front of me. It’s a work of art, the glaze glistening on top.
My stomach growls and I rip off a piece of the pastry and devour it. My tastebuds sing.
Fuck, that’s good.
I peel off a piece and hold it out.
She goes to take it, but I shake her off until she opens her mouth.
I pop it in. Her lips brush my fingers and my dick jumps a mile.
Brooke looks surprised but reaches for her phone, turning up the cracked screen.
“Still haven’t gotten a new one?”
“Got other things on my mind.”
She flips through photos and holds one up.
In it, she’s posing with one leg extended out behind her and one hand above her head. The light streams in from a window, shining on her golden skin.
I swipe through, and each one’s better than the last.
Then another where she’s laughing.
A third that’s a selfie with her and Nova, and they’re both grinning and unselfconscious.
“Whatever they’re paying you, Princess, it’s not enough.”
I tear off another piece of the cinnamon bun and eat it. Goddamn.
“If this is a thank you for the sex, I’m impressed,” I say when I’m finished.
“It’s a thank you for the room. And the elite coffee. And generally being so nice to me,” she corrects.
“So…the thank you for the sex is still coming?”
It’s throwing me that she hasn’t acknowledged what went down, especially since we’ve been dancing around our chemistry since the second she moved in.
Brooke serves me side-eye as she sets her phone down on the kitchen table. “You can’t seriously expect a woman to thank you for sex.”
“I never expect a thank you. But I do appreciate one, especially if she comes as many times as I made you come last night.”
“Maybe I made myself come and you were just an attractive accessory.”
It knocks the wind out of me a little. I recover.
“Your new favorite.”
“Excuse me?”
“Judging by how much you screamed, my tongue is your new favorite accessory.”
She rolls her eyes.
“You were gone when I woke up,” I point out.
She doesn’t react until she’s done her bite. “We were scratching an itch, not pledging our undying love.”
She’s trying to draw boundaries. If I had my head on straight, I’d do the same.
“How was practice?” she asks.
Hello, hard left turn.
Apparently, I’m the only one ready to admit our connection is legendary.
I can play that game with her. It’s not so different from basketball. You get in close with someone, there’s finesse involved.
“I’m up for this shoe contract. It’s a huge deal that would help cover Grams’s care for years.”
“What’s the brand?”
I tell her, and she looks it up. Her brows pull together in concentration as she bends over the phone.
“It would be a great fit.” Brooke’s gaze lifts to mine, delight taking over her expression.
“I don’t know. I’m Miss Congeniality. Most likeable. Best prankster. Best smile. The last one was from Cosmopolitan ,” I add helpfully.
Her eyes narrow. “There’s more to you than that. You care about people. I don’t even know if you realize how much because you cover it up with jokes. But you’re a good person. A good player, but more than that, a good man.”
Well, fuck.
My plans for keeping this thing between us locked down didn’t account for her backhanded compliments.
She tugs away to cross to a whiteboard I didn’t notice in the corner of the living room.
That’s new.
She makes notes with a marker in a scribble I can barely read, checking her phone for details in between.
“Looks like you’re drawing up a play,” I say, chuckling.
“I am. A strategy for how to get you that endorsement deal. I can help you shape your image so you can get the campaign. You’ll be the perfect spokesman.”
I’ve been around women who wanted what I was and what I could do for them—never someone who saw the man I could be, who wanted me to be my best.
I close the distance between us, coming up behind her.
She stills. “What’s wrong?”
I push her ponytail to the side and brush my lips over her neck.
“Can you focus for a second, Garrett? I’m trying to help you,” she murmurs. Her body betrays her as she arches toward me.
“Something more urgent I could use a hand with.” I wrap one arm around her shoulders and pull her back against my chest.
My agent said no distractions, but this doesn’t count.
One, because we’re literally working on the deal.
Two… if there’s a straight man who can resist Brooke Ellis, I’d love to meet him.
I want her.
Badly enough that I don’t know what I’m going to do if she says no.
Crawl into a ball in my bed and howl like and animal.
The thought has my teeth grazing her skin. Her breath hitches.
“Typical.”
But she runs a palm down my abs to where I’m already hard.
Hallelujah.
“You want me to fuck you before we talk about this deal?” I ask as I spin her around. “Or after?”
She grabs my neck for balance, her eyes bright with arousal and challenge. “After.”
I hitch her legs up around my waist, knocking the whiteboard over. “Too late.”
I carry her to my bedroom.
It turns out that howling isn’t so bad when you’re not doing it alone.