Chapter Eighteen
I GAVE UP ON SLEEP and threw the covers off in frustration. Two hours of tossing and turning, and all I could think about was Brooke—what she might be doing with Roman. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince myself it didn’t matter. The thought of him holding her, discovering the taste of her lips, or feeling the softness of her pouty pink smile—it was maddening. Damn it, these thoughts were ridiculous.
I sat up, my feet pressing against the cool hardwood floor as I ran a hand through my hair. It had been a long time since I’d had a night like this. After Erica died, sleepless nights were all I knew. The bed had felt too empty, too cold. I’d missed the sound of her gentle breaths, the way she’d snuggle against my back, her leg draped over me like a warm anchor. For weeks, I couldn’t bear to sleep in our bed alone, choosing the couch instead.
But on this night, the emptiness of the bed felt different. It wasn’t Erica I was picturing beside me. It was Brooke—her honey-colored hair spilling across the pillow, her smile lighting up the room as she asked me one of her ridiculous questions that always had a way of making me smile, if only on the inside. The thought of her lying next to me was so vivid and unexpected, it made my chest tighten.
The guilt gnawed at me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped up and headed for the sliding glass door in my bedroom, stepping out onto the wraparound deck. The clear night was quiet, save for the sound of the lake lapping against the shore—a sound that was once good at calming my nerves. I wasn’t sure it would work its magic this time.
I gripped the railing, the cool wood biting into my palms as a breeze swept over me, nipping at my bare chest. I welcomed the shock of it. It took some of the edge off of the storm brewing inside me.
If only I could work Brooke out of my system. I’d forgotten how easily and quickly a woman could invade your senses and take hold of you. It had been like that with Erica too. All it took was one date with her and I was hooked.
Against my better judgment, my eyes drifted to Brooke’s house, searching for any sign of life, any hint that she’d come home. The windows stared back at me, dark and lifeless.
Was she still out with Roman? Or worse, had she invited him back to her place? It was none of my business, but the thought aggravated me to no end. I tried to convince myself I didn’t care, silently repeating it like a mantra, but the lie fell flat.
“Erica,” I whispered her name. “Tell me what to do. Please tell me you don’t hate me.” I didn’t expect an answer from her, but I heard something.
A piercing shriek shattered the quiet night, and my breath caught when I realized it was Brooke. My eyes darted frantically, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from.
“Oh. My. Gosh! It’s freaking freezing!” Brooke’s voice rang out, laced with both annoyance and disbelief.
I turned toward the lake, squinting in the dim light until I spotted her, her head barely visible as it bobbed in the water. My pulse kicked into overdrive. What the hell was she doing out there? Did she not realize how dangerous it was to swim alone at night? Assuming she was, in fact, alone and not still with Roman.
Without another second of hesitation, I sprinted down the deck steps, the uneven ground of the rocky beach stabbing at the soles of my feet with every step. But I didn’t care. All I could think about was reaching her, getting her out of the lake safely.
“Brooke, I’m coming!” I shouted, the icy water lapping over my toes as I charged forward .
“Logan?” Her voice carried over the lake, shaky but unmistakable. “What are you doing out here?”
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
There was a pause, followed by a hesitant, almost sheepish reply. “Well ... I’m ... uh ... kinda, sorta, skinny-dipping?” Her teeth were chattering so hard, it was a wonder she managed to get the words out.
I froze, my brain short-circuiting as the realization hit me—she was nude. Completely, utterly nude.
This was definitely not going to help my insomnia.
“Logan,” she stammered. “I don’t think I can move. It’s so c-c-cold.”
Oh, hell. I dove into the water, the icy sting biting into my skin, but the fire driving me to reach Brooke burned hotter, pushing me forward. The cold barely registered as my focus locked on her, bobbing in the dark water ahead.
When I was almost close enough to touch her, she shouted, her voice trembling, “Don’t come any closer—I’m naked!”
“I realize that,” I called back, trying to keep my tone gentle yet firm. “However, you have very little body fat, and your completely exposed skin means hypothermia will set in faster than you think. We need to get you out of the water. Now.” I reached out to her. “Just take my hand and I’ll lead you out.” It seemed like the best course of action.
“Okay, but keep your eyes closed,” she pleaded.
“Just give me your hand,” I said, not making any promises. My focus was on getting her out of the water safely, not on the fact she was completely bare. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
I wasn’t going to look—at least not intentionally—but the thought of what I might see was already wreaking havoc on my self-control. My priority was her safety, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that Brooke had just turned my night into a test of willpower I wasn’t sure I’d pass. A cold shower wouldn’t cut it after this.
A wave of relief surged through me as her icy hand slipped into mine.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” she stuttered.
“You don’t need to apologize. Let’s just get you out of the water. Then you can tell me the undoubtedly fascinating story of why you’re out here.”
A soft, breathy laugh escaped her, and I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth despite the freezing water. I guided her through the lake until we reached the shallows where she could stand.
“Can you grab the blanket I left on the shore?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Hold it up in front of you so you can’t see me. I’ll try to walk out myself.”
The blanket might just have been my saving grace. “Are you sure you can manage?”
She nodded, her features illuminated by the moonlight, making her look almost otherworldly. Ethereal, even. The sight of her vulnerable yet so damn beautiful sent a shot of longing through me I couldn’t suppress. The urge to pull her into my arms was overwhelming, but I forced myself to focus. Right now, her safety was all that mattered.
I rushed out of the water, scanning the shoreline until I spotted her blanket crumpled in a heap. Grabbing it, I sprinted back into the lake, up to my knees, as I held the blanket in front of me, bracing myself for what came next. I’d have no choice but to hold her close, and the thought sent a mix of determination and dread coursing through me.
“Can you see anything?” she asked through her chattering teeth.
“Brooke, just get out of the water,” I said, my doctor instincts taking over, leaving no room for argument.
“Fine, my knight in shining armor,” she muttered, her sarcasm barely masking her shivers.
I couldn’t help but chuckle, though the situation was far from amusing. The moment she threw herself into the blanket, my arms instinctively wrapped around her, cocooning her violently shaking body. I pulled her close, ensuring the blanket covered every inch of her exposed skin. The last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable, even though being this close to her sent a wave of agony through me that she was blissfully unaware of.
“I’ve got you.”
She snuggled closer, her trembling body pressing against mine. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Before I could respond, I felt her knees buckle. Instinct took over as I caught her, sweeping her up into my arms. My fingers brushed against her bare legs, sending a jolt through me I tried to ignore. Her head fell on my shoulder, telling me she trusted me. For a moment, that privilege eased the torment of the intimate situation we found ourselves in.
“I’m taking you to my place,” I said, the words spilling out without a second thought. It was closer than hers, and time was of the essence.
She nodded and snuggled in closer, her warm breath brushing against my chilled skin. It was better than any furnace at chasing away the cold.
Carefully, I carried her up the deck stairs, each step sending sharp stings through my limbs as the feeling returned to them. I gritted my teeth, refusing to vocalize the pain. My concern centered on Brooke.
I carried her into my bedroom, moving as quietly as possible, praying I didn’t wake Eden or Sophie. The last thing I needed was to explain why I was carrying a wet, naked Brooke into my room. I could only imagine the looks—or worse, the questions—that would follow.
I flipped on the gas fireplace, and its warm glow filled the room as I carefully lowered us into one of the fabric chairs—a creaky relic from the previous owner. It groaned under our combined weight but held steady.
Brooke curled deeper into me, letting out a soft sigh as the heat from the flames thawed her trembling body. I stroked her damp hair, a fresh wave of what in the world am I doing crashing over me.
“Thank you, Logan,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What were you doing out there?” I asked, concerned and in disbelief.
“Fulfilling one of the bucket list items,” she said.
“Which one was that? Have a near-death experience?”
She laughed, the sound light but still shaky. “No. Go skinny-dipping.”
I blinked, incredulous. “Your mom wanted you to skinny-dip at midnight in a freezing lake? Did she know how dangerous that is?”
“Well,” she said with a small shrug, “she didn’t exactly specify the lake. I just ... assumed. ”
“Well, next time, assume the hot springs or a heated pool,” I said, trying to inject some levity.
“Good idea,” she breathed out, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
I had to disagree. It wasn’t my brightest move to mention it. The second the words left my mouth, vivid, uninvited visions of me joining Brooke in the water flooded my mind. I needed to get a grip.
Desperate to redirect my thoughts, I blurted out, “How was your date?”
Her body stilled against mine before she lifted her head with deliberate slowness. Her gaze locked on to mine, the firelight dancing in her eyes, which seemed to see straight through me.
“Logan,” she whispered, her voice laced with an intimacy that cut far too deep, especially given that only a blanket separated us, and we were supposed to be just friends.
Wasn’t that what she wanted? Wasn’t that what I wanted? The emotions that clearly bounced between us left me unsure of anything anymore.
“Brooke,” I replied, my tone foolishly mirroring hers. It was an unspoken invitation for her to draw closer, and she took it. Her breath brushed against my cheek, warm and disarming, unraveling the last threads of my resolve.
“My date was fine, but I missed you today,” she admitted, her voice hesitant, as if the words had slipped out before she could stop them. But her confession stirred something deep within me, something I wasn’t sure I could ignore any longer.
I inched closer until my lips hovered just above hers. The space between us became even more charged, begging her to close the distance. The temptation to do it myself was almost unbearable. Because I knew if I did, it would bring both relief and torment in equal measure.
She closed her eyes, a smile on her lips, before she took the invitation and seized the moment and pressed her mouth to mine. My lips moved over hers tentatively at first while I tried to forget every reason we shouldn’t be doing this. Brooke, on the other hand, leaned into it, a soft sigh escaping her, giving me permission to explore her lips and learn exactly what to do to claim them.
For a moment the guilt melted away and my hands slipped into her wet hair, allowing me to control the pressure and deepen the kiss, leaving no part of her mouth undiscovered. She tasted better than I had imagined, salty and sweet, and her lips were just as velvety as I’d assumed.
With each second that ticked by, the kiss became more urgent, and I went from wanting her to feeling as if I needed her. Realizing exactly what that meant, I tore my lips from hers. It was one thing to want her—that I could fight, and I would. I had to.
“Not so fast.” Brooke’s lips brushed mine, begging them to capture hers again.
I wanted to, more than anything, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to her or Erica.
When I didn’t reciprocate, Brooke leaned away, a question in her enlivened eyes.
“That should have never happened.” I stood and gently placed her on the chair, still cocooned in her blanket.
“Logan, I wanted it to happen. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
That was where she was wrong.