Chapter Two
Brooks
“Get your ass back here.” I grip Kelsi’s arm and haul her back up into the truck, wondering if this entire encounter is a dream. It’s been ages since I’ve tossed her around like this. Her presence can’t be real. “You could have internal damage.”
“Oh, I have internal damage,” she snarks and rolls her eyes as she stares out the side window. “You have no idea.”
“If you’re implying I’m the internal damage you have, we’re about to fight.”
She snaps a gaze toward me, gorgeous as ever. “Yeah, I am.” She starts stammering as she says, “This isn’t… I…”
“I tried calling you.”
“Yeah, you called after you pushed me away. It was awesome. Sorry I didn’t feel like answering. I was busy making a living off the thing that I dreamt about my entire life.”
“You dreamt about moving to some dirty, shit city to write for someone else? I thought you dreamt of getting published.”
I gather I’ve insulted her by the way she snaps me a death stare. “Look, most writers would kill to be me. I sat in a room with Johnny Nicholson last week going over lines and scenes. I think you’ve heard of him. His last two movies made a billion dollars. ”
I roll my eyes and laugh under my breath. “Who the fuck cares?”
Her mouth drops open, and she stares at me with wide eyes. “Why are you like this? It’s been five years, Brooks. Maybe it’s time you move on.”
“Move on? Did you move on? No, don’t answer that. I’m sure you moved on a few dozen times by now. I bet those California guys were thirsty as fuck for some na?ve little country girl playin’ in the big city.”
A smile lifts onto her face and she stares at me with some sort of evil I can't quite identify. “You’re insane.”
“You act like I don’t know you. You need constant attention. I am one hundred percent certain you didn’t go three weeks without fuckin’ some blonde surfer dude who probably doesn’t own a hammer and will never work for ‘the man.’ But hey, who am I to question your life choices?”
She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Does that threaten you, Brooks? Blonde surfers from California with their hands all over me?”
“Honestly, it does. It’s hard to imagine you’d prefer that over me.”
She twists her long hair back and smiles as she looks away. “Right, well, I’ve been alone. All by myself . A na?ve little country girl, turning away dick left and right.”
“Okay… sure.”
“Ya know, why don’t we actually be honest? We both know you haven’t been doing the same. There’s no way in hell a giant man with biceps like yours hasn’t been putting it in every woman he can get his hands on. You’ve got a void inside of you only the weight of a woman can fill. So, what are their names?”
I tilt my head to the side, a coy smile lifting my cheek. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”
Her arms cross over her chest. “Why are you even talking to me? I can wait for the ambulance myself.”
I huff out a harsh breath and stare toward the girl I’ve missed like hell for the last five years. “How’s your mom?”
“What do you care how my mom is? You’ve got a harem of women. Are you asking them all how their moms are?”
“Calm down,” I groan. “There was you. Then there was thinking about you. Then there was missing you. That’s all of them.”
“Bullshit! You’re a fifty-year-old man. You’re not dead. Five years with no sex? Let’s cut the crap.”
“So you’re sayin’ you couldn’t go five years?”
“I have, but it’s different for me. I’m a woman. Little known secret about us, we don’t make life decisions based on getting laid.”
“So, you’re better than me?”
“Absolutely,” she grins, “I am better than you.”
What is it about this sparring that turns me up so damn much? No one else does it like her. She gets so enthusiastic. “Baby, baby, baby.” I shake my head and smirk.
“Stop calling me baby! I’m not your baby!”
“It’s a term of endearment. I realize you’re not an actual baby, Kelsi.”
“Baby… is not a term of endearment. It’s you telling me you’re in charge.”
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to hold back a grin… and my erection. “I am in charge.”
Her hand lands on her head. “You’re impossible. Let’s just sit quietly until the ambulance comes.”
“If that’s what you want.”
She lets out a heavy sigh and pulls out a cell phone.
“What are you doin’ with one of those things? You hated phones when you lived up here. You said they were ruinin’ the world, and you refused to own one.”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes widen, shining in the light of the sun. “I thought we were sitting quietly.”
“We are. I’m quietly askin’ you about why you sold out every piece of who you are for Johnny Nicholson.”
She laughs and sets the phone on her lap. “I didn’t sell out for Johnny Nicholson! Jesus, Brooks. I work a professional job. I have to stay in contact with the producers in case they need changes to the script. It’s a phone, not an atomic bomb. Aren’t you literally doing like twelve jobs right now that you don’t want to do because the city can’t find anyone to do them?”
I grin. “You’re keeping tabs on me?”
“My mom won’t stop giving me updates.” She plays unamused as she speaks.
“I see her around town. How is she feeling?”
She shrugs and glances at me with heavy eyes. “Okay, I guess. Some days are better than others, but she’s recovering well. The doctors said the stroke could’ve been a lot worse.”
“That’s positive. That she’s recovering well, I mean.”
“Yeah, it is. How’s your brother?”
“Good. Married now. Doin’ the whole fuckin’ family thing.”
“You sound upset about it.”
“Not really. I never wanted that shit.” I clear my throat as the ambulance lights whir ahead and pull toward the truck.
“I remember.” She glances toward me as the paramedics push me out of the way to attend to her. It’s a quick moment, and just like that, she’s whisked away in the van, and I’m sat wondering what happens next. I can’t follow her to the hospital. I’m sure she doesn’t want me there. We could barely get along for twenty minutes.
Damn it!
I should’ve let my feelings for her go years ago. I should’ve moved on. I should’ve fucked with other women, then maybe now I wouldn’t be so desperate for her. Maybe I’d be able to sleep at night, get more shit done, and not be the grumpy fucking asshole I feel like all the time.
Chest tight, I pace the forest floor, scrubbing my hand down over my beard as I move, desperate to let her go. Despite my efforts, there’s one nagging siren blaring in my head. A realization that I can’t avoid.
Yes, I’m a blizzard to her—a storm that leaves the land cracked and barren. And yes, she’s a wildfire—hot and untamed. Together, I realize we’re chaos embodied, yet I can’t pull myself away. I can’t ignore the siren's call. She’s home, and this time, no force of nature will keep me from trying to get her back.