Chapter 11 #2
I don’t look at him. It’s fair to be worried about that.
I fucked up after all, but it still hurts.
He must know I’m not a drug addict. I was in the hospital for three days and didn’t take anything stronger than an ibuprofen.
The pills were a means to an end, a way to get through the pain I can now recognize was my body screaming for help.
I was stupid to ignore the signs, stupid to fight so hard for something I’m not sure I ever truly loved, but it’s over now.
I remember the hushed conversations between Bay, Lake, and Brooks at the hospital when they thought I was sleeping, and a new, terrible suspicion sets in. “Is that why you wanted me to live here?” I ask quietly, keeping my eyes on the dogs. “So you could watch me?”
Brooks hesitates long enough for my heart to plummet.
“Not entirely, but I’d be foolish not to take this seriously, Delta.
I’m not sure you realize how many patients I’ve seen addicted to prescription painkillers, or how often those people turn to street drugs when the pills aren’t an option anymore.
I would never forgive myself if I watched you go down that path and didn’t do everything in my power to stop it. ”
I should be happy he cares about me and wants me, but right now I just feel small .
“It’s fine, I get it,” I tell him out of habit.
It’s the truth, I do get it, but when I see his worried, frustrated look, my heart sinks.
I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t true.
I’m feeling—” It’s a struggle to name the emotions intense swirling inside me, but I owe it to him to try.
“I’m hurt you didn’t tell me that, and guilty I put you in this position, and sad too, I guess. That I’m a burden.”
Brooks stares at me for a long moment, silent and expressionless.
“You’re not a burden, Delta. Not in the least. You’re a person I care about tremendously, and you’ve been through an incredibly difficult period of your life.
I want to support you. I’m sorry I said what I did about the painkillers. It wasn’t kind.”
He’s not lying. I know that because Brooks has never lied to me, and I wish I could hug him again without it being weird.
“Let’s just forget it.” I tug my sweater tighter around my body, trying to protect myself against his effect on me. “Did Lake ever get the chance to drop off my stuff?”
Brooks seems relieved to have something to do. Gesturing toward a flight of polished wood stairs, he leads the way up onto a landing which overlooks the great room below. There’s nothing up here but a little area rug and a lamp in the corner, and three doors leading off.
I hang back as he opens the closest and leads the way into my new room.
There’s a big window, partially obscured by boxes, and warm wood covering the slanted ceiling just like the rest of the house.
It’s not a huge space, but there’s a cozy armchair and a comfy-looking bed that’s piled high with blankets.
“It’s small.” Brooks clears his throat. “I’m sorry, nobody’s ever lived in here. There’s a half bathroom downstairs off the kitchen, but there’s only one with a shower.” He nods back toward the landing.
“It’s beautiful,” I reach out to squeeze his hand reassuringly and my stomach flips at the pleased, crooked smile he gives me in response. “Why are you smiling?”
He chuckles, eyes glinting in amusement. “Because you are, Delta.”
I am?
Oh shit, I am.
My emotions lately have been wildly out of control, swinging between complete devastation, guilt, and joy every ten minutes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me right now.”
I’ve been waiting for the longing for my destroyed career to hit me.
I should be missing the mountain, the familiar strain of my muscles as the earth slides beneath my feet, the sun on my face, and the cold wind biting at my cheeks.
I should be missing my dad. What does it say about me that I don’t?
What does it say about me that of all those feelings swirling inside me, the only one that’s constant is relief?
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He sounds so sure about that, even angry that I suggested it. “You’ve been through a lot. You need time to process and a professional to talk to if that’s what you want.”
I let out a hysterical little giggle. I’m not against starting therapy, but the idea of confronting all the shit I’m feeling is beyond daunting.
I want to be okay, though. No, more than that, I want to be happy, and I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.
“I probably should.” I finally concede. “I’ll call some people on Monday to see if I can get an appointment.
It might be hard with the holidays coming up. ”
Brooks opens his mouth to say something, but we both still when the sound of the front door opening comes from downstairs, along with the padding of paws and a single booming bark .
“Brooksie?” calls a man’s voice, and Brooks’ eyes widen comically. He looks horrified.
“Oh, Christ. I apologize in advance for this,” he mutters, shaking his head, before calling out, “coming!”
I follow him back down the stairs but stop short on the last step when I see the man standing in the entryway, playfully ruffling Femur’s fluffy ears.
He’s tall and built , with muscles straining behind a fitted black t-shirt and leather jacket.
His dark hair is long enough to be pulled back into a bun and while I can’t see most of his skin, the tattoos scattered over his neck and hands suggest they’re everywhere.
The stranger turns when Brooks clears his throat, but his eyes move right past him to where I’m standing, his lips curling into a gleeful smile. “Well, well. Who do we have here?”
“Delta,” Brooks grits out, looking severely annoyed. “This is my brother. Elliot.”
Damn, how many other impossibly attractive Harrison siblings am I going to encounter?
“Eli works, gorgeous. That’s what all the girls call me.” Elliot grins, straightening up. He moves right past Brooks, unphased by the death glare, and holds out a hand for me to shake.
When I do, Brooks’ eyes narrow.
“No. Eli doesn’t work.” My grumpy, brand-new roommate crosses to the front door and opens it. “You’ve come, you’ve antagonized, you can leave now.”
I was thrown off by the tattoos, long hair, and leather jacket, but there’s definitely a resemblance between the Harrison brothers.
They have the same square jaw, the almost-black hair, and straight nose.
Elliot looks like a blue-eyed, slightly shorter, delinquent version of Brooks.
He’s closer to the kind of man I should probably be interested in, but beyond the aesthetic appeal, he does absolutely nothing for me.
Apparently, my type is obsessive, overprotective, orthopedic surgeons.
Elliot ignores Brooks’ not-so-subtle attempt to get him to go, taking his time to look me up and down, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I’m going to guess you’re the complication my brother was talking about over drinks last week.”
He was talking about me?
My heart flutters, and I pull my sweater tighter around me, trying unsuccessfully not to read into that. “I couldn’t say.”
“I could.” His crooked grin slips away. “Wait a minute. I know you, don’t I? Delta…” His eyes widen, and he looks over at Brooks with a look of dawning comprehension. “ The snowboarder? ”
Brooks closes the door with a snap, glaring at Elliot in a silent dare to continue that train of thought.
Not fazed by his brother’s nonverbal threats, Elliot laughs gleefully. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Brooksie. Damn . Breaking lots of rules lately.”
I bite my lip, watching Brooks’ scowl deepen. “I’m just going to go unpack for a while. I was going to make dinner for us soon, if that’s okay, Brooks?”
“Of course.” He isn’t looking at me, though, and I feel a pinch of self-consciousness. Is he angry someone knows I’m here?
“Um. Are you staying, Elliot?” I offer hesitantly.
The Harrison brothers reply at the same time. “No!” and “Yes!”
I’m starting to get why Brooks was unfazed by Bay and Lake. “ O-kay .” I take another step back, but Elliot isn’t done with me yet.
“Unpacking, huh? Going to be here all weekend?” he asks casually, but there’s a suggestive undertone to the question that makes my cheeks burn.
Am I supposed to tell him I’m living here?
Is it a secret? Surely if Brooks wants me here for a while, like he’s said, he had to know his family would find out.
“Delta lives here now,” Brooks spits with the furious, reluctant energy of a man confessing to a crime he was caught committing.
I frown at him. I won’t be for long if he’s going to shove me in the coat closet whenever someone rings the doorbell. We’re not doing anything wrong. He’s not even officially my doctor anymore.
Catching sight of my face, Brooks winces apologetically. “I mean, I invited her . We’re friends, and I want her here.” His words are stumbling and awkward, but he’s trying, and I feel my tension ebb just a bit.
“Well,” Elliot smirks, looking between us. “I’ll leave you to get your friend settled in, brother.”
I retreat back upstairs to give Brooks the chance to scold his brother in private, feeling flushed and off-kilter. My whole life is suddenly upside down, and I’ve fallen into a strange parallel universe where sexual tension is the currency.
I’m just starting to look around my new room when the space is filled with an unfamiliar ringing.
Peering around, I spot Brooks’ phone laying atop the dresser by the door and I’m about to call out to him when my mouth snaps shut.
It’s stopped ringing, but the screen is still lit up, and I can still clearly see his background.
It’s the picture he took of us at Blue Pike .
Brooks is peering right into the camera, unsmiling and serious, but I’m looking at him. Every single thing I was feeling is on my face, longing and hope and admiration. Nobody could look at it and not see I’m in love with him.
He made it into his background.
Pressing my hand to my mouth, I take a long, shaky breath, heart thundering in my chest.
I’m coming for you, Brooks Harrison.