12. Brodie
Watching Clint with Aubrey was like the best bits of the past blended with the most awesome bits of now. Fuck, I’d missed him. Just how much hit me hard.
The buzz I felt from the incredible sex evaporated when Clint bolted from Aubrey’s place, and she stood frozen in the middle of the stairs watching him leave. She shifted her weight, up one stair and down again, and wiggled her fingers.
“Is he all right?” I didn’t know if she’d have any idea. We only heard him say a few words.
She gave the tiniest shake of her head. “His daughter… I should let him tell you most of it. It’s not my information to share.”
“Okay, is she all right?” I hated the idea of anyone suffering, especially a child.
“Don’t know.” She fumbled with her own phone, tapping the screen.
I jerked a thumb toward the top of her stairs. “Come sit down. Give him enough time to get there and check in, then send him a text.”
She nodded and followed me to her apartment. She dropped her keys a couple of times before I took them gently from her and unlocked the door.
When we were inside, she checked her phone every few seconds, and wouldn’t sit.
Watching her like this sent a spike of concern through me. “Does she mean a lot to you?” I asked.
Aubrey looked up from her phone, her gaze blank for a moment before her eyes seemed to focus on me. “She’s a kid. She doesn’t deserve this.”
I still didn’t know what this was, but it hadn’t come out of the blue for her or Clint. “I agree. This feels more personal. To you.”
“Dee is a good kid. She’s smart. She’s sweet. And her mother uses her as a bargaining chip. Dee deserves good things, not more of the bad.” Aubrey jumped at the sound of a chime, and gave her full attention to her phone again. “We’re back home. Dee’s all right,” she read aloud, relief bleeding into her voice.
“I’m going over there to check on her.” Aubrey swiped her screen as she talked. “I’m sorry about cutting the night short.” She glanced at me.
“I’ll go with you. I’ll drive.” I wanted to keep spending time with her, but I also wanted to make sure Clint was all right too. Because he was an old friend—boyfriend—and because I was tired of having spent the last nearly two decades watching the place I used to call home from a distance.
The impulse hit me hard, but I wanted to start being a part of Haddarville again. At least while I was here.
Aubrey did a little more texting with Clint, before saying, “He says it’s okay. Let’s go.”
I pointed her toward the bedroom door. “Put some panties on first. Maybe pants. It’s been getting cold at night.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave me a grateful smile, and turned in the other direction. “That’s the guest room where Sylvie is staying. My room’s over here.” She walked away, a fast clip to her step.
She returned just a few minutes later, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. This wasn’t the made-up Aubrey who was always on display and dressed on-brand around town.
But she was every bit as beautiful, and still a pin-up princess. “Let’s go,” she said.
The instant we stepped outside, a blast of chilly, wet air hit us in the face.
Aubrey rubbed her arms. “I should go grab my jacket.” Despite the words, she hesitated.
She didn’t want to waste any more time. The impatience radiated from her.
“Come on.” I tugged her toward my car, and grabbed a hoodie out of the back seat. “Wear this.”
Aubrey only hesitated for a moment before pulling it over her head, but once it was on, she tugged at the bottom with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” I leaned in to sniff. Nope. I hadn’t accidentally given her a smelly sweatshirt.
She shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
I opened the passenger door, and she slid in, before I hurried to the driver’s seat. “Navigate.” I pulled onto the road.
“Hilltop Road. The Miller house.” Aubrey gestured.
I pointed us in that direction. Funny how much of this came back just being here. “Tell me what’s wrong with the hoodie.” I might as well prod over the next couple of minutes.
“It’s dumb. I just…” She sighed.
“Tell me.”
“I always wished I was one of those petite girls who looked cute swimming in a guy’s oversized sweater.”
Was she kidding? I glanced at her. “You look gorgeous.”
Her flush was visible even in the gray of the rainy evening, and she stared down, picking at the image on the front. “Did you graduate from UC Berkeley? I feel like I should know that.”
“I don’t know why you would.” Given how careful we were online to not share certain private details. “But no. I never graduated. They gave me an honorary doctorate a few years ago, though.”
“My fiancé the doctor.” Aubrey sounded amused. “Wait until Grandma finds out.”
I chuckled. “The only person I care about impressing is you.”
Nothing was far from anything here, and I pulled onto the street Aubrey indicated. “This isn’t where Clint grew up.” Though I’d followed most of what he was up to, some of the details had eluded me.
“Of course not. His parents moved years ago, but when he got divorced he came back. Bought a new place.”
Houses didn’t come up for sale here very often. “That was good timing. Or did he have to wait for one to go on the market?”
She shook her head. “It helps to keep in touch with people who live here. There’s always someone coming or going, regardless of whether or not they announce it to the world.”
“The coming part’s my favorite,” I teased.
Her laugh was light, and even sexier in person than over a headset.
I parked in front of the house, and we strolled up the walk. Aubrey knocked.
When Clint answered, he glanced at her sweatshirt—my sweatshirt—and pursed his lips. “Come on in.” His tone was friendly as he stepped aside.
“Bree!” Someone shouted, and a girl who was maybe ten, and looked very much like Clint, half-tackled Aubrey with a hug.
Aubrey grinned and returned the squeeze. “Hey.”
The interaction was simple, but adorable.
The girl looked at me as she broke free of the hug. “Who are you?”
“I’m Brodie. Who are you?”
“Oh. You’re the fiancé. I’m Addison, but everyone calls me Dee.” She extended her hand.
I shook it, while she studied me.
“Hang on.” She scrunched her face. “Aubrey. Brodie. Clint.” She pointed at each of us as she said our names. “You’re the ABCs.” She sang the opening lines of a familiar but old song, and danced to her own tune.
Natural born performer. Definitely Clint’s kid. “How do you know who the Jackson Five are?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes and turned away. “Puh-lease. I’ve been dancing to that since I was a kid.”
I held back any comments about her still being a kid. Aubrey looked like she was fighting a smirk behind Dee’s back.
The expression blinked to neutral when Dee faced her. “Bree, tell Daddy I’m fine. He’s freaking out about nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” Clint stepped behind me to close the door. “Hazel said you were dizzy and almost passed out.”
Dee blew out a noisy breath. “It’s just cuz I ate too much candy.”
“The perfect solution to that is to eat something not sweet instead,” Clint said. “What should we make for dinner?”
“Do we have lettuce? Broccoli?” Dee walked past all of us and into the kitchen.
Clint followed with a frown, and Aubrey and I trailed behind.
What kind of kid asked for vegetables for dinner?
“We could make popcorn.” The way Aubrey moved through the room, it was clear she was comfortable here. She opened a cupboard above the microwave and reached for a plastic-wrapped package.
Dee shook her head with enough vigor that her hair spread out in a halo. “Too fattening.”
Clint’s frown deepened. “We have Hot Pockets in the freezer.”
“No Celery?” The fridge door muffled Dee’s voice as she looked inside.
I was about to overstep, but the tension in here gnawed at me and I wanted it to stop. “We’ll order pizza.”
A puff of air escaped the refrigerator when Dee slammed the door, and it drifted shut ineffectively. The scowl she gave me spoke volumes about what she thought of my idea.
Clint didn’t look any more impressed than his daughter.
“Half veggie.” I kept talking anyway. Every single veggie they have.”
“Mushrooms are gross.” Dee’s voice was hard.
Aubrey grabbed the pizza place’s menu from where it was stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “No mushrooms. Extra cheese.”
“No.” That shut Dee down instantly.
The inspiration just kept coming. “Do you think Aubrey’s pretty?” I asked.
Clint raised his eyebrows and Aubrey furrowed hers.
“Yes.” Dee answered without hesitation.
Called it. “Aubrey’s not worried about extra cheese.”
One corner of Clint’s mouth tugged up.
“And I’m way older than you,” Aubrey said.
What did that have to do with anything?
“Okay, fine.” Dee sounded put out. It didn’t matter, because she yielded.
Aubrey pulled her toward the living room. “Come on. Let Brodie order, and we’ll watch Howl’s Moving Castle.”
“Yay.” Dee’s hesitation had evaporated.
Clint hung back, while I dialed the number on the flier. Go figure—I still remembered it, and it hadn’t changed.
“Don’t do that again.” Clint’s voice was quiet but cold.
Wow. Okay. It was probably a fair request on his part, and I shrugged.
“And thank you.” His tone softened.
“Diet cola,” Dee shouted from the living room.
Clint shook his head. “No diet cola. Sugar is fine.”
I placed the order, with Clint filling in any answers I didn’t have, and we joined the ladies in the living room.
We watched the movie, and when the food arrived we ate in the living room. Dee knew all of the lines in the movie, and she wanted to be Howl. She made Aubrey say Sophie’s lines, “because you’re just like her.”
Aubrey didn’t look surprised by the request. In fact, this all looked normal and natural to them.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done something like this; sat around watching movies with friends, with there not being an additional expectation. Sex or negotiation or a company meeting.
The casual nature of it all was an unsettling combination of calming and anxiety inducing.
When the movie was over, Clint sent Dee to bed. She gave him and Aubrey hugs, and waved to me. “Next time you have to be Calcifer.”
“Why me? Why not your dad?” I asked.
“He doesn’t do it right.”
I glanced at Clint with a questioning look.
He shrugged. “She thinks I’m too melodramatic to be a shooting star.”
Calcifer had been pretty dramatic. But the Clint I remembered was definitely more.
Dee vanished into her room, and Aubrey, Clint, and I cleaned up.
Watching the two of them load the dishwasher—her rinsing dishes and him putting them on the racks—was unsettling. There was no space for me in that mix, in more ways than one. When we were all in school together, Aubrey was Clint’s friend. She was always nice to me, but we’d never been close. I still saw that same friendship with them now.
“May I ask, what’s going on with Dee?” I tried to phrase my question delicately.
“I told him it was your place to say, not mine.” Aubrey rinsed another glass and handed it to him.
Clint sighed and placed it next to the others on the top tray. “We’re not sure. Something to do with her heart, but it started showing less than two weeks ago. There are still a lot of tests to work through.”
Hence the need for health insurance. I understood now. “What happened tonight?”
Clint closed up the dishwasher. “We have to keep an eye on a list of symptoms until we know which are dangerous. It’s driving her nuts, and I don’t blame her.” He turned to face me. “She wants to be a kid and I don’t dare let her out of my sight. I figured she should be okay tonight. Nope. I don’t know what I’m going to do when…” He trailed off with a sigh.
“She stays with her mom during the weeks when school starts.” Aubrey dried off her hands on a dish towel.
“So I won’t be able to watch her. I’m worried about her heart. About her eating enough. About her dancing. All of it.” Clint leaned his weight against the counter behind him and crossed his arms.
Aubrey hung the dishrag from the handle of the oven, and straightened it out. “It’s too bad there’s not a way to monitor her while she’s not here.”
“That sounds a bit too much like Big Brother. But also, yes. I’d love that,” Clint said.
I knew how to do that without it being obtrusive. “You can.”
“No.” There was a resignation in Clint’s voice that hurt to hear. “I’m not going to send her out there with some big bulky monitor when we don’t know if she needs it. She’s an active kid. Am I going to tell her to stay off the playground? If she needed it, I’d put my foot down, but just to ease my mind a little? No.”
“You know what Brodie does, don’t you?” Aubrey asked.
Clint shook his head. “The best vanishing trick in history? Look, the box is empty. Where’d he go? Look, there he is, twenty years in the future.”
Ouch. I wasn’t here to apologize for my decisions, though. “We make clothing that monitors vital signs. It’s meant to be worn by military. Athletes. Police. It’s meant to be moved in.”
We. Like I was still a part of it. The idea was mine, though. The innovation had been mine.
“That shit is expensive. It’s also adult-sized,” Clint said.
Minor obstacles. “I own the company. I can have a prototype made. Or ten of them.”
“It’s really cool stuff, Clint.” A hint of coaxing slid into Aubrey’s voice. “It might be too bulky for ballet, but she should be able to do other things in it.”
“I can’t…” It was impossible to miss the hesitation in Clint’s voice.
Was I going to have to beg him to take this as a gift? “It won’t put me out to have something sent out here for her. Even if it did, she’s important to you. Your sanity and health are worth more than a couple of dollars.”
Clint clenched his jaw.
Stubborn ass.
“He’s got a point.” Aubrey pushed away from the counter to slide closer to Clint, and nudged his shoulder with hers. “It’s peace of mind, and it’s going to help keep Dee safe.”
“If it makes you feel better, you can owe me,” I teased.
Clint almost smiled. “Pretty sure this is just you paying me back.” His tone was lighter, but that hesitation still lay underneath.
“Paying you back?” I racked my brain. What the fuck was he talking about?
“For the five bucks you borrowed. Plus interest.”
The five…? I laughed. “For lunch, twenty years ago? All right. In that case, I get the better part of the deal.”
He promised to send me measurements for Dee, and I said the instant I got those, he’d have someone make up a few shirts and send them his way.
We talked a little more, but it was late, and Clint needed to get to bed so he could be up when Dee woke up.
As Aubrey and I went to leave, Clint grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Speaking of debts, you still owe me a conversation.”
“We’ll have it. Promise.” She smiled.
There was the jealousy again. White hot and searing away my reason. I kept the thoughts and my reactions to myself, and Aubrey and I headed out to my rental car.
I didn’t have much to say on the way back to her place. My mind was a jumble of thoughts. Not just about what I saw between her and Clint tonight—the obvious connection—but about her comment that my company’s clothing was too bulky for something like ballet.
I had the idea. I know how to make it work. Thinner, more flexible textiles. Rather, I had everything but the fiber. I hadn’t been able to find anything that was thin enough to work, but still carry the kind of information it needed for the monitoring.
The onslaught of ideas got shelved as I pulled up in front of Aubrey’s shop. I twisted in my seat to face her. “I had a lot of fun today.”
“Yeah? The part where we spent a few hours deflecting my grandmother’s expectations, or the part where you and I were supposed to hang out and you had to watch me”—she flushed—“dancing with someone else instead?”
I’d do that second one again. And again… “The part where we spent time together.” I tilted her chin up and brushed my lips over hers.
It was meant to be a brief kiss. A short good night, but the instant I connected with her, a zing ran through me. A spark of desire that wanted more of her soft lips. Of her taste and scent. I pressed in harder, and she kissed back with the same intensity.
When I finally pulled back, she hovered her fingers over her lips as she watched me with bright eyes.
“Go. Sleep.” What was I saying? “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.”
I couldn’t help but watch Aubrey’s ass as she walked inside.
What was I doing, not inviting myself up to spend the night? What held me back?
She was married.
It wasn’t real, according to both of them. But watching the way she played house with Clint…
I had to know she was mine before I unlocked the rest of myself.