Chapter 30
Brody does not look happy when we leave his new sponsor’s office, despite us securing a great deal. Healed and cast free, he’s tightened his bun three going on four times in the last hour, each time followed by a sigh.
“Is everything okay? That was a good deal back there.” I’ve been managing his brand again for the past three weeks, and this is at least my fifth proof point that it’s the right choice. Brody looked appropriately thrilled the other four times, but this time he almost looks disgruntled.
He sighs again, pulling his phone from his back pocket. “There’s something you should see.”
He taps the phone screen, opening a message from Dave. There’s a series of videos sent to Brody days ago, the first of which he clicks into. As the video fills the screen, my eyes widen.
It’s a trailer for the upcoming season of Rush, featuring a compilation of clips of Nate and me from those two weeks.
Us muddy and smiling on the ATVs. Racing each other on dirt bikes. Exploring a dark cave, my nails biting into his arm.
Me whispering in Nate’s ear on our first hike. Us embracing between ziplines. His hand reaching for mine at the fire dancing show.
Us swimming mere feet away from sharks. Me staring in horror from the jet ski as I wait for Nate to resurface. Both of us losing our footing rock climbing.
Nate holding me in his arms at the waterfall, our faces barely an inch apart. We talk, we smile, he pulls me impossibly closer.
The image fades to black as Rush streaming info fills the screen.
There’s a flutter low in my chest I pretend not to feel. Brody gives me a moment to process what I’ve seen—footage I knew was collected over those two life-changing weeks and other clips I didn’t know they had.
“This will be released next week,” Brody says finally. “Some other teasers shortly thereafter.”
This is information I need as his brand manager. But, from the way he’s watching my reaction, that’s not why he’s telling me.
“Brody, I don’t…”
He stops me. “You really were falling for him in Fiji, weren’t you.” It’s phrased like a question but delivered as fact.
“We were acting,” I say weakly.
He shakes his head. “Post-production can only fake so much.”
He searches my face for the lie I won’t let him find now that we’ve salvaged our working relationship.
“Fine,” he says eventually, reaching into his bag and producing a book I’ve never seen before. Its blue cover features a characterization of a beach where a man and woman lounge on a striped towel together, all smiles.
My pulse quickens with recognition well before I notice the author’s name at the bottom: Nathan Bannam. The title Risking Love is followed by the text “advanced reader copy.”
The novel Nate had been working on in Fiji.
I shake as I take the book, which is when I notice the cracked spine as if it’s been opened several times. Perhaps read multiple times over.
My mouth is dry, but I ask, “Nate wrote this?”
Brody nods. “Contemporary romance is quite a ways away from what he usually writes. Probably why his publisher didn’t grab it and he fast-tracked publication on his own. But I admit this story is rather…compelling.”
It’s another beat before I dare to flip the book over and skim the back cover. Brody watches me the entire time.
I don’t know when my free hand flies to my mouth, only it’s there by the time I finish reading and look back up at Brody. This time, I don’t let either of us shy away from the other’s gaze.
“I thought you might like to give it a read as we go for a little drive,” Brody says. “There’s somewhere we need to be.”
Our “little drive” takes about four and a half hours—time in which I’m frantically reading Nate’s book while Brody sips an energy drink and holds a conversation with various Rush crew members over the car’s sound system.
I have no idea where we’re going, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t put this story down.
My stomach twists into a tight knot when I’m about halfway through the novel and have confirmed what I’ve known from the cover. This is our story. Me and Nate and Brody.
“So,” Brody drags the word out like it’s some kind of challenge after ending another call with Dave. “Thoughts so far?”
I shoot him a look that could incinerate his energy drink. Though then he’d probably just take my coffee since I’ve been too anxious to stomach a sip since opening the book. “How about you two have completely lost your minds? What is this book, Brody? A confession to our entire plan?”
Brody laughs, and I want to punch him for being so infuriatingly unbothered. “That’s the reaction I had when I first read it.”
“How are you so okay about this? It lays out everything we’ve been trying to keep under wraps.” Including how Nate and I fell together. It wouldn’t surprise me if a chapter similar to the lagoon was coming up soon, but I could also see Nate keeping that bit for himself.
“I’m okay because it details everything. Also, it doesn’t. It’s fiction.”
“Okay…” I’m not following where Brody is going. This is the actual story bound and published for the world to see and judge. Fictionalized some, given it’s not Fiji nor a show like Rush and the characters have different names. But real in the ways it counts most.
“If anyone catches wind of the actual twin-switch, we can say Nate’s book was so good it convinced readers something this absurd could happen. Or that he was conducting research for his novel.”
What Brody’s saying makes some sense. There’d be extra scrutiny on the show with viewers trying to prove or disprove the notion of a twin-switch, but there isn’t anything to find. I know how convincing the narrative ended up being.
Brody glances over at me during a red light. “Have you gotten to the end yet?”
I shake my head.
The light flicks to green, and Brody accelerates. “Then you might want to jump ahead because we’re almost there.”
A normal person might have asked “almost where,” but I dive back into the book to find out what’s so special about this ending.
There’s an audible gasp when I read the end. I expect my character to choose Nate’s only for him to choose Brody’s instead, but that’s not what happens.
The choice is the exact one I hoped for that very real night: my character and Nate’s choose each other. Brody’s is there for both of them, anyway.
The characters live happily ever after in a realistic way. But there’s also a hint of more to the story—a potential sequel on the horizon if the first book does well.
Perhaps a sequel for us, too.
I stare at the book when I’ve finished it, flipping over to the cover to stare at it some more. I’m gripping the book so tightly that the page’s edges dig into my palms. It’s fiction, but it feels far too raw and real.
“Why did he write this?” The question blurts out because the only alternative is dissolving into a puddle of tears right here in Brody’s car.
Brody snorts. “I don’t think he had a choice. Did you see that dedication page?”
In my hurry to get into the novel, I skipped the front matter I’m rapidly flipping to now.
To the person who made me realize love is the bravest choice of all.
I hope you can forgive me for choosing wrong.
I’m reading the page for a third time when Brody says, “Knowing Nate, I’m pretty sure he couldn’t write anything else until this was out of his system.
The dedication is clearly to you, but I think he wrote this for all of us.
When he gave me an ARC, he said he hoped it’d help me understand how things got to where they did. ”
“And…?” I wish I had my coffee while it was still hot because my throat is so dry my question is a hoarse whisper. “Do you?”
He’s staring straight ahead, his expression serious.
“If that story is even half of the truth, it’s hard not to. Doesn’t make it any more palatable, but I can’t pretend I don’t get it.”
“It’s just fiction,” I say. But do I believe that? Sure, I wish the book’s ending was how it played out for Nate and me in real life, but Brody is not too far off when he suggests this story may still be shy of the real one.
“Oh, please.” Brody rolls his eyes, his attention still on the road. “You’ve been reading that thing like it’s your lifeline. I guess it kind of is.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a reason my brother has never written a romance novel before.”
The car slows, and I realize we’ve pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall with stores selling home goods, women’s fashion, children’s toys, and books. My pulse thunders in my ears as Brody puts the car in park near the bookstore.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
Brody shrugs and unbuckles his seatbelt. “I need to pick something up. Sounds like my magazine feature might be out.”
“I haven’t heard anything.” I don’t point out his feature is more of a listicle as I reach for my phone. Given the past several hours were spent reading Nate’s book, it’s quite possible I missed a message about Brody’s upcoming placements.
“We can confirm in two minutes inside. Plus, they have a restroom and a cafe, so we can get you more coffee. Something still hot, perhaps?”
“Do I even want to know how much longer this trip is?” I ask, already following Brody out of the car and toward the bookstore. “Should I have Corina check on Jasper?”
Brody pulls open the store’s door, holding it for me. “It’s not much longer.”
I walk inside, letting the smell of coffee and books envelop me as I consider what to get from the cafe. I’m so preoccupied, I almost run into something.
A sign. A literal one in the entryway, featuring Nate’s smiling face next to his new book and a date that looks an awful lot like today’s.
I spin toward Brody, pointing an accusing finger at the sign. “What is this?”
“About that…”
“Are we really here for a magazine?”
His lips turn down. “No. Not yet, at least.”
“Is this why we’re here?” I point at the sign again, this time like a threat. Before Brody can speak, I add, “Don’t tell me it’s for the coffee.”
He pauses, then caves. “Nate is here to talk about his book. About you.”
“Brody…” I’m searching for the words to explain all the reasons I can’t be here. How Nate’s latest book says something—even if I’m not entirely sure what yet—but none of it changes the reality Nate didn’t choose me in Fiji.
That he hadn’t chosen me since.
“Look, he wanted me to bring you here.”
“Bring me here?” I repeat, still processing.
“He wants to see you. Said it had to be today. Here.”
“What? Why? How?” I shake my head, hoping to clear the confusion and get to what I’m trying to say. “Why now?”
Brody sighs. “Because he was afraid. Because we all needed time to sort things out. Because he thought walking away was the noble thing to do. Do you really want me to keep going?”
And hear more reasons the universe is apparently stacked against us being together? No thanks.
“He made his choice.” I didn’t like it, but that’s behind us. Out of my hands.
“And today’s a different day,” Brody says, as if Nate’s decision was as casual as picking what to have for breakfast.
“Doesn’t change anything.”
“It might. The way I see it, you have two choices. You can go back to the car and stew or hear Nate out. See if he’s ready now.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I put everything on the line for him, and where did that get me?”
“Here?” Brody offers stupidly. Then he raises his brow, in a challenge.
Even if I could buy Brody’s take on what happened on that beach in Fiji, it doesn’t explain Nate’s silence in the months that followed. Or what we’re doing here.
“So, you brought me here to what? Beg for him back?” I ask. “That is not happening.”
“I don’t think you’re the one who will be begging,” Brody says, an amused smile working the corner of his lips. This is coming from a man who’s used to being chosen over Nate, and this last time over me as well. There’s no rug big enough to sweep that fun fact under.
I cross my arms, and Brody sighs.
“You and I both know if I hadn’t shown up,” he looks for anyone who could overhear us before mouthing in Fiji and continuing, “he would have chosen you, my feelings be damned. Heck, it wouldn’t have been a choice in the first place.”
I shake my head. Nate chose his relationship with Brody over one with me. I may not have liked his choice, but I can understand the urge to protect that sibling bond at all costs—even if I ended up being the price he paid.
I didn’t make any of it an easier pill to swallow though.
“I don’t want to come between the two of you,” I say finally.
“You already have.”
“That’s exactly my point!” I throw up my hands, smacking the picture of Nate in the process.
“No, that’s my point. You’ve already come between us, and it didn’t break our family.
Brothers fight ugly, but we’re trying—Nate most of all.
” Then he gestures between us. “Just as importantly, it didn’t break our relationship.
I may have lost a girlfriend, but you’re still here for me professionally and as a friend.
The only two people paying the price now are you and Nate. ”
Brody places a hand on each of my arms, his gaze steady on mine. “I might be one to do a lot of daring and potentially stupid things, but standing between two people who clearly care for each other isn’t one of them. At least I don’t want it to be. Not anymore.”
My heart cracks at that because maybe Brody is onto something.
I’d spent the last months building the life of my dreams, not daring to acknowledge the cold empty parts Nate once warmed.
My happily ever after was ripped away with the seemingly fickle tide, but maybe today our chance is rushing back.
Am I really going to let it pass me by again?
“Hear him out,” Brody says. “That’s all he’s asking.
If you don’t like what he has to say, I’ll get you that coffee—or something stronger, if you want—and drive you back to Vegas where we can forget this ever happened.
But if there’s even a small part of you that might still want him, then don’t you want to hear what he has to say? ”
My throat is tight. I want to say no. I want to say I’ve moved on. But some nights I still wake thinking about the way Nate looked at me under those stars in Fiji, like I was the true center of the universe. Followed by the way he looked away when it mattered most.
I hesitate, my heart thudding painfully.
Then I walk further into the store.