Chapter 19
NINETEEN
The original plan had been to avoid Brody Bates at all costs. I didn’t want to know him. I didn’t want to be friends with him. Somehow, he had made it through my defenses, however, and it wasn’t possible to ignore him.
Then I decided we should be friendly. We had to go to these author events together after all.
It turned out he wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d imagined.
He was witty, self-deprecating, and ridiculously hot in the nerdy way that turned me on so much.
We were just going to be friends, though.
I was adamant about that. I wasn’t looking for anything else.
The past month had taught me that even the best laid plans can go awry. Brody and I were stuck in a strange limbo where we were more than friends but not dating. We both made sure not to cross that line. We were, however, constantly together.
It had been a month since we first wrote together near the pool. Since that day, we’d had a standing date. Three times a week—weekdays, to avoid the kids—we sat at our respective tables and competed to see who could get in the most words.
It wasn’t a true competition. The stakes were low. Whoever lost had to buy iced tea for the other when we were on our way out. We were both winners, no matter who won for the day, because we were cranking out words at a fantastic rate.
I’d already finished one book and was working on a side project that I hadn’t told anybody about.
It was a contemporary romance trilogy—no paranormals in sight—and different from my other books.
It felt more adult, although I couldn’t put my finger on why.
It didn’t matter. I was enjoying the writing and was way ahead of my deadline on the other book, which was ready for beta readers. It all worked out.
I could have taken time off and done nothing. My house still wasn’t put together from the move and needed some attention. That didn’t dissuade me from meeting Brody to write. I didn’t need to write. I wanted to, and I wasn’t going to just give it up.
Deep down, I understood that it wasn’t just the writing fueling me.
Time with Brody was fueling me. We didn’t even talk when working.
We just sat across the pathway from one another, typing away.
There was no doubt we were there together, however.
We were a team. I wouldn’t—or rather, couldn’t—give that up, and I refused to justify my feelings to anybody else.
Brody was getting close to finishing his fantasy book.
He was writing with abandon, and he had a second project too.
I’d noticed him switching between projects more than once.
I never called him on it. I figured it was his business.
I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t wildly curious, however.
In addition to the writing, we’d had two more author events. I’d held my breath at each one, expecting Joey to make an appearance. He didn’t, which had me hoping he’d found another endeavor to eat up his time. That made the events so much more comfortable for me.
Brody didn’t have the same good luck. Blair Bernstein—we all recognized her sickeningly cloying floral perfume now—was relentless with her lists.
At each event, she showed up with new bullet points she wanted to go over with Brody.
She would sit across from him and monopolize his time.
I wouldn’t have put up with it. I would have stopped engaging with her weeks before. Brody apparently had infinite patience.
We’d stopped traveling separately to the events as well.
We shared an Uber, which I told myself was for convenience, but I knew better.
I just wanted time with him. He seemed to want the same with me.
He looked at me in a way that told me he loved spending time with me.
He never pushed, though. He never asked if I felt the same way.
He seemed content waiting for me to make the first move, which wasn’t going to happen.
I just wanted to be friends. Or at least, I was still trying to convince myself of that.
I wasn’t having a lot of luck, but I was not a quitter.
As we prepared for our latest author event, Brody glared at the scooter I’d parked in the driveway. Even though we’d fallen into a routine, I had a different plan for that night.
“Come on,” I prodded, grinning. “It will be fun.”
“No.” He vehemently shook his head. “It’s not happening.”
“Come on.”
“No.” He crossed his arms. “You’re not even supposed to be driving that thing. It’s not allowed on the grounds.”
“Actually, I found out that they can’t bar scooters completely. Scooters can be on the main roads, just not the roads leading to the golf courses, which are private.”
“Is this you thumbing your nose at the Man?” He looked so suspicious I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“I guess it is, in a way. The truth is that I love riding it, and it’s been months. Tonight is supposed to be great for weather, no chance for rain. Just give it a try.”
“No.” His voice was weirdly squeaky. “Absolutely not.”
I changed my tactics on the fly. “And just why not?”
“Because I don’t trust you to drive me on that death trap.”
“I’m a good driver.”
“I’ve seen you on that thing. You’re not a good driver.”
“You’ve been in my cart with me. Have I ever killed you when we’ve been in the cart?”
“No, but not for lack of trying. You’re a menace in the cart too. That’s why I prefer riding in an Uber with you.”
“Come on.”
“No.” He shook his head so hard I was surprised it didn’t fly off his shoulders.
“Pretty please,” I wheedled, jutting out my lower lip.
He lifted his gaze to my face, resignation causing his lips to curve down. “Bree.” He sounded exasperated.
“I promise it will be exhilarating.”
The way his shoulders slumped told me I’d already won. “I’m going to die tonight,” he said. “I just know it.”
brODY LIKED THE RIDE MORE THAN HE would ever admit.
For the first five minutes, his arms were wrapped so tightly around me I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to breathe.
Eventually, he relaxed enough to lean with me.
The scooter was not like a motorcycle. The odds of tipping over were slim.
By the time we reached the Peacock Lounge, which was that night’s eclectic location, he seemed to be enjoying himself.
That only lasted until we’d parked the scooter and were stretching in the lot.
“Admit it,” I said.
He pretended he hadn’t heard me. “Flock to the Wok.” He pointed toward the restaurant right next door. “That’s such a weird name for a Chinese place.”
“I think it’s more like Asian fusion, but it doesn’t matter. Admit you enjoyed the ride.”
Brody finally looked at me. “What? Did you say something?”
I glared at him. “You suck. I hope you know that.”
“I’m fine sucking.”
“Admit you liked the ride,” I growled. “We’re not going inside until you admit it.”
“You’re not the boss of me. I can go inside if I want.” As if to prove it, he started toward the bar, leaving me glaring in his wake.
I was about to flip him off when I caught sight of a familiar figure standing in front of the Peacock Lounge, his back pressed against the building and one knee bent as he tried to look calm and collected.
Joey Hill was back. All the mirth I’d been feeling plummeted to oblivion. I was about to call out to Brody to wait up when he stopped walking, froze—it was obvious where he was looking—and immediately backtracked.
“Ready?” he asked me, extending his hand. He wasn’t smiling. Actually, he was almost bristling. It made me feel ten times better.
I slipped my hand into his. “I can’t believe he’s back,” I said in a low voice.
“Don’t worry about him.” Brody tugged on my hand until I was in front of him and pressed himself protectively against my back. “Let’s get a drink, huh?”
I needed the drink to soothe my nerves. There was just one little problem. “I can’t drink and drive the scooter.” I mentally kicked myself for being so stubborn. “I should have left the scooter at home. You were right.”
“As much as I like being right, I actually enjoyed the scooter ride.” He was guileless as he delivered the news.
I made a face. “You said you hated it.”
“I was just saving face.”
“And now you’re not because you’re afraid I’m going to melt down thanks to Joey?” I jerked my thumb in that direction.
He didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he considered it. “I…”
“I appreciate you,” I blurted out of nowhere. “Somebody else might have left me out here just to prove a point.”
His scowl was instantaneous. “Stop it. I hate it when you give me props for doing the bare minimum. You know that.”
“It’s not the bare minimum when you do things other people wouldn’t do.”
“I would prefer believing that’s because most people are oblivious, not because people are inherently evil.”
I shrugged. “I still appreciate you. I can’t drink if I want to get us home, though.”
He ran his tongue over his lips, his mind clearly churning. “You could leave the scooter here, just take home the helmets, and we can come get it tomorrow. Lesson learned. We’ll Uber home and then retrieve it in the morning.”
“We? You don’t have to come back. I can Uber on my own.”
He shook his head. “We’ll get breakfast and do something while we’re down here. We’ve been talking about visiting one of the cemeteries or taking that hearse-tour thing. We can make a day of it.”
Tomorrow was a writing day. I didn’t like messing up our routine. But I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by the offer. This would be the first purposeful outing we engaged in as friends, outside of the Landings. It felt somehow important.
“I…” There was no reason to say no. We were friends. We’d proven that over the past two weeks. There was nobody I felt more comfortable with than Brody. I had friends—Paisley and Hayley mostly—but Brody had quickly supplanted them as my go-to conversation partner. “Are you sure?” I asked finally.