Chapter 38
brOOKES
The second I walk through the front door, I hear the murmur of Cam and Blake’s voices coming from the kitchen, and it causes my irritation to spike.
I turn, noticing Poppy try to skulk off toward her room, but I’m not having that. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I yank her back to me, pulling her flush against my chest, and then I walk her backwards, pinning her against the front door.
Her lips part on a soft breath, tits heaving as she stares up at me.
I bring my hand up and gently curl it around her throat, watching her stormy eyes flare from the slight restriction.
Ducking my head, I press a whisper-soft kiss to the corner of her gaping mouth, peppering kisses along her jaw before grazing her ear with my lips.
“I’m gonna need you and that pretty pussy in my bed tonight, baby. ”
Poppy sucks in a shuddering breath and I claim her lips with mine, thrusting my tongue into her perfect mouth, swallowing her needy moan.
“Brookes?”
I pull back at the sound of Cam’s voice.
“Yeah, just a sec,” I yell back over my shoulder, gaze fixed firmly on Poppy’s.
With a soft, chaste kiss to her lips, I release my hold of her throat and she sags back against the door, exhaling a tremulous breath. And, with a wink, I adjust my straining cock in my pants and turn for the kitchen, feeling her gaze burn over me as I walk away.
Entering the kitchen, I clear my throat, Blake and Cam looking up from their devices. I move to the fridge and pull out a bottle of Gatorade, untwisting the top and gulping back a few much-needed mouthfuls while I wait for whatever they’re here to tell me.
“Big news, Brookes!” Blake starts, hands in the air like he’s about to drop the bomb of all bombs.
I glance at Cam to see he doesn’t appear half as excited, so I know whatever he’s about to say is going to be mediocre at best. Quirking a brow, I watch Blake, taking another swig of my drink while waiting.
“I got a call this morning, and…” He drags out a pause for dramatic effect, I’m sure. Looking between me and Cam, Blake practically bounces up and down on the spot. “Saturday Night Live wants you to co-host this week’s show!”
I blink at him, my eyebrows pulling together as I glance at Cam again, completely confused. “I’m… a golfer.”
Blake guffaws. “They have athletes host all the time!”
“Yeah, LeBron James and… fuckin’ Tom Brady.” I snort.
“Exactly!” Blake laughs. “This is huge.”
I sigh, bored already with this conversation. “I can’t anyway.” I shrug a shoulder. “I fly out to Puerto Rico tomorrow for Hannah and Happy’s wedding.”
Blake has the audacity to look affronted, glancing from me to Cam and back again, gaze scrupulous.
“Brookes, with all due respect, I think Saturday Night Live is a little more important than a wedding for two people you haven’t even seen in, like, a year…
” He laughs again, but it’s devoid of humor and laced with ridicule.
I balk, looking at Cam and silently asking him if this guy’s fucking serious. Turning back to Blake, I narrow an eye. “You mean the two people who saved my fucking life?”
Blake huffs a laugh, and then he actually rolls his eyes.
“Get the fuck outta my house,” I snap, taking a step closer to him, my hand folding into a fist.
Cam jumps up then, positioning himself between the two of us.
“What?” Blake shrieks, holding his hands up in defense. “I’m just—”
“In fact—” I interrupt whatever bullshit he was about to give me. “I don’t even know why you’re here. I sure as shit don’t remember inviting you back after the last time I kicked your ass the fuck out.”
“I’m your agent, Brookes.” Blake scoffs, his smarmy smile condescending and so fucking slapable I swear it takes every last ounce of restraint I have not to backhand him.
“Yeah, so was the last guy I fired.” I fix him with a steely, warning look.
“Brookes,” Cam says, his tone warning in that father-like way that usually has me retreating. But not today. I’m so fucking done with this guy.
“No. Fuck you,” I point a finger at Blake, “and fuck Saturday Night Live. I’m a golfer, not a fucking late night TV show host.”
“Oh my God,” Blake mutters. Shaking his head, he slams his folder closed and picks it up off the island counter, tucking it under his arm. Then, turning to Cam he says quietly, “I told you, didn’t I?”
And I don’t know what he’s fucking talking about—I don’t even think I want to know what the fuck he’s talking about—but when he offers me a pointed look on his way out, my heart pounds hard against my ribs as I watch him leave, reminding myself not to get physical.
Turning to Cam, I offer him a what-the-fuck look.
Cam heaves a sigh, rubbing his chin contemplatively and, taking his seat again, he holds a hand up. “He just mentioned that… you haven’t been yourself the last few weeks and—” Shrugging his shoulders, he tilts his head side to side. “I mean, I tend to agree.”
When I open my mouth to object because Cam taking fucking Blake’s side is possibly his biggest betrayal yet, he holds his hands up, stopping me. “Hear me out.”
I snap my mouth shut, grinding my back molars, giving him three seconds and not a nano longer.
“You have changed these last few weeks, but I think it’s been a good change,” he adds that last part quickly. “Your game has improved tenfold. You’re more focused on the course than I’ve ever seen. You’re doing everything Spielman asked of you and more.”
I throw my hands up at my sides. “So then, what’s the fuckin’ problem?”
Cam cocks his head to the side, offering me a piercing look like I should know the answer to that, but I’m at a total loss because I literally have no fucking idea. I’m doing everything they asked me to do. What more do they want?
“Blake is… concerned,” Cam says the word gently, “that perhaps you’re… getting a little too… comfortable… with…” He trails off, nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen wall.
My brows knit together, realizing he’s referring to what’s on the other side of that wall. “Poppy?”
He presses his lips together, saying nothing.
“This whole thing was his idea!” I exclaim incredulously, pointing a finger at Cam. “And yours.”
“I know!” Cam says quickly. “And it worked. But”—he winces, continuing with obvious reluctance—“are you maybe… getting a little in over your head?”
Rubbing my lips together to stop from kicking his ass out of my house too, I fold my arms across my chest.
“I’ve been watching and… on the television… it doesn’t look all that fake.”
I balk, throwing my hands up, exasperated. “It’s not supposed to look fucking fake!”
“Just—” Cam holds his hands up again, placating me. “Be careful, okay?”
“Be careful?” I guffaw, almost laughing at the concept. “Of Poppy?”
Cam pauses, and he narrows his eyes, as if to consider his words. “Brookes, you’re an addict. And you always will be. That’s the hard truth.”
I close my eyes on a heavy exhale, gritting my teeth, my body thrumming with anger. “Yes, I know this. I spent six fucking months in a rehab facility having it drilled into me every goddamn day.”
“The last thing anyone wants is for you to replace one… vice with another.”
Meeting Cam’s eyes, a thick swallow works its way down my throat as I suddenly understand exactly what he’s saying. Forcing myself to look away, I take a few deep breaths to stop from saying something I know I’ll probably end up regretting, offering an abrupt, “Fine,” instead.
By the time Cam finally leaves, I have a fucking headache because my mind is more conflicted than it’s ever been before. Too many thoughts; not enough brain.
But there’s one thing I know: I need Poppy.
Following the corridor to her room, I knock once, waiting. But there’s no response. I doubt she’d still be in the shower.
Confused, I open the door a touch, but I’m met with nothing but darkness, my eyes taking a moment to adjust, finding the outline of her body in bed, the moonlight from outside shining in through the sheers and illuminating her silhouette.
She fell asleep.
I can’t say I blame her, today was a lot for her, physically and mentally thanks to my teasing her all day.
I smirk at the thought, and when my dick starts to twitch, I glance down, glaring at it to behave.
I’d love nothing more than to have her in my bed tonight, but I also know she needs to sleep.
And, hell, so do I. But as I stand here like a creep, watching her sleep, there’s this painful ache I’ve never felt, right in my chest where my heart sits, and suddenly, all I can imagine is what’s going to happen come October when she isn’t here anymore.
Panic and anxiety swirl in my chest, brewing like a summer storm.
Pulling the door closed with a quiet click, I turn and lean back against it, dragging my hands down my face with a heavy sigh because fuck… I think Cam might be right.