Chapter 9
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I considered the thought that maybe, just maybe, Bennett would invite John to the ranch.
But then I reminded myself that while he and John were friends, that didn’t mean the biggest name in EWE wanted to spend a week with the new kids on the block.
That’s why I didn’t invite him or Brody in the first place.
This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, just a few friends hanging out and ringing in the new year together before we had to return to our hectic life on the road.
Originally, it was only supposed to be Raelynn, Bennett, Jo, and maybe Jo’s boyfriend—who ended up bailing at the last minute, just like I knew he would, which meant Jo bailed, too.
“I’m the lone wolf, once again,” Bennett said two weeks ago when he asked me who would be joining us in Celestia for New Year’s.
“Is there someone else I should’ve invited?”
“Well, no, but another guy in the mix every once in a while would be nice.”
“Jo’s boyfriend will be there,” I said, and he deadpanned.
My brothers would be around, too. Granted, Crew and Nash would probably be working most of the time, and the twins usually kept themselves busy, especially now that they’re seniors in high school.
Okay, so maybe I saw his point. “So, who would you suggest?”
“I don’t know…Brody?”
My brow raised. “Did you just say Brody?”
“I thought you liked him.”
“I do, but I doubt he wants to spend the holiday with a bunch of newbies.”
Bennett shrugged, pursing his lips. “We’re not that new.
Besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he doesn’t seem to mind finding us in a crowded room over practically everyone else in the company.
” That was true and had happened on more than one occasion.
The real problem I faced with inviting Brody was having to invite John, too.
We still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room; in fact, I hadn’t seen much of John since my debut.
Not that I was surprised. Whether or not it was intentional, I knew he was busy, constantly on the go, always being pulled in a million different directions, finishing one thing just to be whisked away to handle another.
I guess that’s part of being the face of the company.
But I had been just as busy trying to keep my head above water and stay relevant enough with the people in charge to keep my face on television.
I didn’t want to make my debut only to be pushed to the back of the line again.
“Look, B.” I sighed. “I don’t care who you invite.
Just know that if they cause problems, you get to deal with it.
” The statement rang true for anyone he invited, but mostly Harper, whom he’d practically gotten on his knees and begged to be allowed to come.
That was before he started in on the “lone wolf” nonsense.
Now he’s far from a “lone wolf,” but has been too far up Harper’s ass to enjoy it. Which means Rae and I have to deal with it…Not that I mind, but it’s the principle.
I should be in bed, getting some sleep so I can play the proper hostess tomorrow.
Not only that, but I should be in bed catching up on the sleep I haven’t been getting while on the road.
Everyone else turned in about an hour ago, but I’ve been sitting on the porch taking some space to think.
Think about my conversation with John—I mean Brooks—earlier.
I’ve decided I should probably call him Brooks—everyone else does.
Calling him John would indicate a deeper, more personal relationship, but we’re just co-workers, maybe friends.
And he isn’t the only thing on my mind…The unanswered text message on my phone reminds me of the plans I agreed to earlier.
I can’t believe I said I’d consider hanging out with my ex-boyfriend.
I should’ve just said no, but Jaxon is nothing if not persistent, and charming, though his usual charm was slipping today.
His smile faltered when he saw the way Brooks pulled me close, a presence between me and Jaxon, keeping him at bay.
Still, I knew the only way to get him to leave was to agree to whatever he wanted.
Was it fucked up? Yes, but the last thing I wanted was for him to say something that might cause John—Brooks, I mean Brooks, damn it—to show him what “dabbling” in wrestling really looked like.
Insert eye roll here. Jaxon’s condescending outlook on my newfound career doesn’t shock me, but he could have at least tried to hide it.
A slight prickle raises the hairs on the back of my neck when I hear the soft rustle of grass in the distance.
At this time of night, I can think of a few things that might be lurking around, but it’s hard to make out anything in the surrounding fields when the moon hides behind a blanket of clouds.
Squinting, I can make out a black silhouette against the inky field, and even shrouded in darkness, I’d know that stance anywhere.
The same man who has held permanent residence in my mind since we met walks toward me, almost like I’d plucked him straight from my thoughts by thinking his name too many times. Let’s hope Jaxon isn’t next.
“Thought you might want one of these,” Brooks says when he finally reaches the wooden stairs, a blanket in his arms. I can’t fight my smile. His next steps are cautious as he ascends the porch. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I was coming out for some air and saw you sitting here.”
Mamá insisted that he and Brody needed something more comfortable to sleep on than an air mattress and a couch, so she coaxed Crew and Nash out of the guest house for a few nights.
I wouldn’t say my brothers were happy about it—any of them really—because it meant close quarters in the twins’ bedrooms, but they complied with her request anyway.
“Thanks,” I say, and take the soft material from his hands.
I recognize it as the Wildcats blankets I gave Crew a few years ago, identical to the one I have tucked away in my blanket basket in Tampa.
I drape the soft material over my legs, which were in fact freezing.
Why I didn’t bring one out with me in the first place is a great question, but I thought I would be okay in my sweats.
“You okay?” Brooks asks.
“Yeah.” I push a hand through my hair before lifting my arms skyward into a much-needed stretch. “Just thinking.”
Brooks shifts his weight, shoving his hands into the crooks of his elbows against the warmth of his crewneck sweater. His gaze travels back toward the guest house, and I can see the wheels turning, wondering if he should stay or go.
“Do you want to join me?” I ask.
“Is that a good idea?”
Probably not, but he’s already here. I shift to make room for him on the couch, lifting the blanket to offer him the space beside me. “We’re just two people thinking, right?”
Brooks hesitates for a moment longer before he gives in, falling into the spot on my left. As I cover his legs with the blanket, the warmth of his body calls to my bare feet, and I bury them beneath his leg.
“Holy shit!” His body jolts against the newfound coolness, absorbing his body heat. “Your feet are like blocks of ice.”
I cover my mouth, trying to contain my laughter, and hope that no one inside heard. Papá is a light sleeper, and he won’t be happy if he gets woken up, especially considering the time. He’ll be up in a few hours to start work, and he treasures every moment of sleep he gets.
“And you’re like an oven,” I say.
Brooks chuckles and covers my ankles with his hands, instantly warming the skin.
“Fuck,” the word comes out somewhere between a hum and a moan. “That feels good.”
His grip tightens around my joint, and even in the shadows, I see the flash of something familiar cross his features.
Brooks rolls his lips between his teeth, looking away from me as his hold loosens.
He moves his arm to rest along the back of the couch, keeping a space between his fingertips and my shoulder, but I feel him there regardless.
A current fills the space between us, trying to draw us closer.
Silence envelops us for a few heartbeats, and despite his distance, I settle further into the newfound warmth. And this time, when I take a deep breath, my eyes flutter closed. I could fall asleep right here.
“What’s got you up this late?” Brooks asks, waking me from the small trance.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I say, eyes still closed.
He doesn’t answer, and it tells me that I already know the answer, or maybe I don’t.
Maybe the thoughts consuming him aren’t the same as mine.
Maybe he has other shit going on, and I’m just being self-centered, thinking it has to do with me.
“I just have some stuff on my mind…and Jaxon texted me.”
Why did I just tell him that? Brooks doesn’t care that my ex-boyfriend texted me.
“Coffee shop guy?”
Or maybe he does.
“He wants to have coffee,” I say, picking a loose string on the blanket.
“So, a date.”
“Not a date,” I say a little too quickly. “It’s not. We’re just two high school acquaintances catching up.”
Brooks hums in response, a slight scoff.
“What?”
“That guy isn’t looking to just ‘catch up’ with you, Sweetheart.” He’s not wrong, but the way he says it—like I don’t know what Jaxon really wants—pisses me off.
“Is that a bad thing?” I challenge, and Brooks meets my stare for the first time since that familiar look crossed his eyes. This time, though, his gaze narrows and his jaw clenches for a completely different reason. Is he jealous? “What’s it to you, Brooks?”
I swear there’s a small flinch when I say his name before he takes a deep breath and says, “I’m just looking out for a friend.”
“Is that what we are—friends?”