Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Apartment
We finished washing and then climbed out of the tub. My body was sore and tired, but my mind was crackling with thoughts.
Wrapped in a towel, I padded my way out of the bathroom. The bed was a mess, and the remains of my virginity an obvious display on the fitted sheet.
I was in the middle of pulling off the linen when Brooks came out of the bathroom with a towel draped around his waist.
“Wait and I’ll help you remake the bed,” he said.
Blushing, I turned away from him and went to the dresser.
“You’re not seriously embarrassed right now,” he said with amusement.
“Maybe I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m twenty-three years old and I just—for the first time—and it’s all on those sheets.”
“Nothing to be ashamed of, Freckles,” he said softly. “Glad you waited for me.”
I met his gaze and felt a different heat seeping into my body.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said gruffly.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to take you to bed again.”
“What if I do?”
“You’re sore,” he pointed out. “And I don’t want to hurt you.”
His words were powerful, and my shoulders melted. “I know. That’s why it was you, Brooks.”
He marched toward me, reaching his hands out before he even stood in front of me. He cradled my cheeks, and I tilted my head back to receive his kiss.
His tongue plunged into my mouth.
I pressed a hand to his warm chest, curling my fingers against him.
“What does it mean?” I asked when he pulled his mouth from mine and pressed his lips to my hot cheek.
“What does what mean?”
“Being yours.”
He pulled away.
“I don’t do relationships, Freckles.”
I frowned. “Uh, okay?”
He shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. “I mean, I’ve never had a girlfriend. But I don’t want you as my girlfriend.”
“I’m so confused.”
“You don’t know my world. But a woman who gets on the back of our bike, we expect her to ride with us through anything.”
“An Old Lady.”
“Yes.”
I paused. “When Archer brought my laptop, we talked for a few minutes.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me that if I didn’t want you, that I needed to let you go.”
“But you didn’t let me go.”
“No. I gave you my virginity.” I let out a soft laugh. “I think I may be as obsessed with you as you are with me.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” He leaned down and pulled me against him, so I was flush against his chest. “Moving forward, though, we’re using condoms. We’re gonna be safe until you tell me you want a baby.”
“Hang on there, Beanstalk,” I said, wrenching out of his arms. “We’re not talking about babies.”
“Sex makes babies, Freckles. So, we need to talk about stuff like that.”
I paused. “You want . . . babies?”
“With you? Yes.”
My breath hitched.
“Plenty of time for babies later, though. Yeah?”
My insides went all gooey. “Yeah.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he stated.
“No.” I swallowed. “I’m not.”
“You’re going to build a life here.”
I nodded.
“With me,” he added. “You’re going to build a life with me.”
I nodded again.
“Good. Now let’s change the sheets and curl up in bed.”
“It’s only eight o’clock,” I said with a laugh.
“Woman, we’re not going to be sleeping.”
“I thought you said I was too sore . . .”
He kissed the end of my nose. “Plenty of other things we can do. Let me show you.”
“Freckles,” Brooks whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Freckles, get up.”
I burrowed deeper. “What time is it?”
“A little after five.”
“Why do I have to get up?”
“Because the bed is wet.”
“Wet?” I shot up and scrambled off the mattress.
Brooks turned on the light as I flipped back the covers and gasped.
“Oh no!” I cried out.
“Relax, it’s just blood.”
“It looks like a crime scene,” I wailed in mortification.
“Hey,” he said gently, coming around the side of the bed to place his hands on my shoulders. “This isn’t a big deal. I’ve seen a lot more blood than this.”
My eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” he said quickly. “Go into the bathroom and clean up. I’ve got this.”
I didn’t waste time. I booked it to the bathroom; my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
As I squatted down to the cabinet under the sink, my body winced in tenderness, a stark reminder of what had transpired between Brooks and I last night.
I opened the cabinet and rooted around for feminine hygiene products, only to discover there weren’t any. Because I hadn’t packed them.
“Freckles?” Brooks called out. “You okay?”
“No.” I dug my fists into my eyes. “I don’t have what I need.”
He paused for a moment. “I’ll run to the store.”
“Oh God.”
“You got any better ideas?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Open the door so I can give you your phone.”
I came face to face with him. Brooks handed me my cell and then pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Turn it on ring so you know when I call. I’m flying blind here.”
“What about the sheets?” I asked.
“We’ll deal with them later.” He kissed me again. “I won’t be long.”
I heard him quickly dress, stalk across the wooden floor, and then the door opened and closed.
It was a little past eight in the morning in New York and I knew Wyn was awake, so I called her.
“Yellow,” she greeted.
“Jello,” I replied.
“Why are you calling me so early?”
“I got my period,” I said.
“Bummer.”
“With Brooks in bed with me,” I added.
She paused. “Yikes.”
“Big yikes.” I sighed. “He ran out to get me supplies. I don’t have anything with me.”
She paused again. “Hold up, you’re doing another sleepover with this guy already? And now he’s getting you shark week supplies?”
I groaned. “Wyn . . .”
“Sorry. But what aren’t you telling me?”
“You know. You know you know. You just won’t say it.”
“I know?”
“Of course you know.”
“You don’t do sleepovers.”
“No, I don’t,” I agreed.
“Oh my God. You finally did it.”
“Yep.”
“You finally fell in love.”
I gasped. “What? Wait, I thought you were talking about my virginity.”
She snorted. “Well, of course you lost that too, but you wouldn’t have lost it if you weren’t in love with the guy. It makes total sense.”
My head reeled.
Love.
“That’s not possible,” I protested.
“What’s not?”
“Falling in love in just a few days.”
“Dude, you’ve met our friends, right?”
“That’s different.”
“How?” she demanded.
“It just is.”
“So, you’re not in love with him?”
“I—I don’t know.” My brow furrowed.
“Well, let’s look at the evidence. The man rescues you on the side of the road. He pays for your rental car repairs. He’s installed new locks on the apartment you’re staying in, and he cooks for you.”
“Yeah. Look, I know this was fast, but I couldn’t wait anymore. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him so bad. So, I let him—he and I . . .”
“Oh, Poet,” she said softly. “Did you tell him you were a virgin?”
I swallowed. “No.”
“No? Why the hell not? That’s a big deal.”
“Because I didn’t want him to treat me like one. I wanted—I don’t know. I didn’t think. I wasn’t thinking. I can’t think around that man.”
There was no way I was telling her I slept with him without a condom. I was too embarrassed about it. It was a foolish thing to do.
“How did he react when he found out?” she asked. “Was he mad?”
“I thought he was. He told me I’d yet to see him mad. . .”
“Was there yelling?”
“No.”
“That’s good, at least. So what happened when he found out?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “He, ah . . .”
“Yes?”
“Said I was his.”
“That’s so . . .”
“Weird? Possessive? Over the top?”
“Hot,” she said with a laugh. “That’s fucking hot.”
I giggled.
“So, how was it? How was he?”
“I don’t have a lot to compare it to, Wyn,” I muttered.
“It was good,” she supplied. “It’ll get better, too.”
“If it gets any better, it’ll kill me.”
She outright laughed. “Oh, I’m so happy for you. On so many levels. You found someone who makes you feel safe. And makes you come. All good things.”
“Wyn.”
“Poet.”
I sighed. “I miss you.”
“I know you do. I’ll see you in a week.”
“A week is too long.”
There was the mumbled sound of conversation on the other end of the phone, followed by, “Poet, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you guys tonight.”
We hung up and I set my phone down.
Love.
Was it totally insane to be in love with someone after a few days?
Completely.
But what was the alternative?
I’d never felt like this before. I knew it was special. He was special.
And I might’ve been his . . .
But he was mine, too.