Chapter 12 #2
I think back to when Brody was friends with Casey Connors—a child star turned drug-addicted bad boy.
The posts Brody made when he was drunk, only to delete them afterward.
He acted nothing like the boy I knew in Hideaway, but a lot can change in twelve years, especially when you’re as famous as he is.
Is he fully okay now? He looks fit and healthy, but I don’t know enough about addiction or Brody to know if he might relapse.
“Do you have an account so I can tag you in?” Brody asks me. “Or would you rather I didn’t?”
“Um …” I rarely use my personal account. My energy is focused almost exclusively on the one I set up for my fantasy art, even though no one seems to view it anymore. But I’m not ready for Brody to see it, at least not with an audience.
“Use her artwork account!” Mom says excitedly. “Just think how many more followers she could get!”
Brody’s fingers stop moving on the back of my hand as he gazes questioningly at me.
Heat temporarily abandons my panties, rushing to fill my cheeks. How does it look that I haven’t shown my so-called boyfriend such an important part of myself?
“Piper likes to keep that one private,” he says to Mom, trying to cover for me.
“Then why did you ask her if she had an account?” she asks.
“I meant to ask which account she wanted me to use,” he replies, shrugging casually.
“Oh. Well, I think you should publicize her drawings, especially considering how much she’s doing to help your career, honey.”
“Mom,” I say quickly. “It’s more than enough for me to deal with going public with my relationship. I’m not yet ready to have my face associated with what I do in my spare time.”
“It’s not exactly an OnlyFans account for feet!”
“Mom!” I cry as Mia snorts with laughter.
“It’s true! You’re so talented, baby. You’re wa—” She breaks off before finishing her sentence, the end of which I know is wasted at your job. “More people should see what you do,” she says firmly.
Fortunately, a smiling girl who looks about high school age, comes over with a pad and pen.
“Have you decided what you all want?” she asks. “Any questions, just ask!”
Love at First Sip is famous for drinks named after romantic heroes and poets, and as it’s run by Mom’s best friend, I always make sure I come here whenever I’m back in Hideaway.
“Have whatever you want, guys,” Marv says. “It’s on me.”
Brody leans a little closer to me. “What do you like here?” he murmurs.
You? With extra sprinkles? His voice is like liquid velvet, melting my insides.
“Um … I always have the Lord Byron,” I reply, sounding like I’ve just run up a flight of stairs. “It’s a cinnamon latte.”
“The Lord Byron?” he says in a British accent. “Hmm …”
Our faces are nearly touching, but we’re not looking at each other. Instead, our eyes are glued to the sight of our hands entwined on the table.
Brody takes a measured breath, then still in a British accent, starts reciting poetry to me.
“She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes …”
Oh, my dear Lord … I make a strangled noise as my throat just about stops me from yelling, “Do me already!”
Mom suddenly stops her monologue about what a dirty chai is in Hideaway. “You okay, honey? You got allergies?”
I take a breath but promptly choke on my own saliva and start coughing.
Brody rubs my back. “Can I get a glass of water?” he asks the barista.
“I’m fine!” I manage, mortified.
As I get a hold of myself, I catch Mia’s eye. She looks at our hands, still clasped together, then winks.
The barista, meanwhile, has dashed to the counter and returns with a jug of water and a tower of glasses.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Mom says, taking the glasses from her and distributing them.
My phone again pings with a notification at the same time that Marv’s and Cara’s phones go off.
I jerk my hand away from Brody’s, grab my phone from my coat pocket, and turn it on silent.
Marv whoops, “Super viral!”
Brody’s looking at me.
Please don’t ask if I’ve got a Google Alert set up with your name on it.
My stomach twists with anxiety, and I’m also frustrated because I don’t know how to take his hand again without it being a thing. So instead, I smile at the barista. “A Lord Byron, please.”
Mom chuckles. “Always with the cinnamon!”
“I’ll have the same,” Brody says.
Everyone orders, and Marv adds a selection of pastries.
Cara passes her phone to Brody. “I’ve chosen some images. You can edit as you like and then add the caption.”
Brody holds it so we both can see and flicks through the pictures.
There’s one of him with one of the clitoris ornaments, an eyebrow raised, while I’m laughing in the background.
There’s one of him in the middle of a group of women as he takes a selfie of them all, one of the two of us revealing today’s date, one of him, Lola, and me, Brody holding a very happy-looking Clitopatra, and one of the two of us standing together as we chat with people.
We look like a power couple on the campaign trail.
And there’s one more that Cara selected, the one I would do anything for it to be real.
In the picture, I’m chatting with Mom, and Brody’s gazing at me like I hung the moon. He looks content. Happy. Like a man in love. His finger moves away from the screen as we stare at the image.
“Are they okay?” Cara asks.
Brody starts as if woken from a dream. “Yeah, perfect,” he says, his voice gravelly, then goes back to write a caption.
I know I should look away, give him some privacy. But I can’t.
Cara has already tagged The Perfect Package, Mia, and Hideaway Harbor in the post, so Brody writes, “Not gonna lie, I had no idea what I was holding in pic one until about ten seconds later. Learned a lot today … Huge thanks to The Perfect Package (yes, that’s really the name) for letting me crash their big reveal for Hideaway’s Christmas Countdown.
Special shout out to Lola, the amazing crew, and the ladies who made me feel so welcome.
Best part? I got to do it all with my girl by my side, laughing at me, mostly.
Now taking refuge at Love at First Sip, ordering her favorite: a cinnamon latte called the “Lord Byron.” Guess I’ll be learning poetry next.
#SheWalksInBeauty #HideawayHarbor #ThePerfectPackage. ”
“You okay with that?” Brody asks softly.
The feel of his breath on my cheek makes me shiver, and I nod, words escaping me.
Brody hands the phone to Cara, who reads what he’s written, a smile breaking out. “That’s fantastic!”
“Lemme see,” Marv barks and she passes it to him. He makes a grunt of satisfaction, then stabs at the screen with a finger. “Done! Nice work.”
Eileen arrives with our order, and I know I’m in heaven. Sitting next to Brody, pretending to be his girlfriend with a cinnamon latte in my hands, everything is right with the world. Christmas music is playing, and my mom and best friend are along for the ride.
“So, what’s next, Erica?” Marv asks.
Mom places her drink down and raises her hands like she’s about to conduct a choir.
“Well, the Santa Fun Run starts in forty-five minutes on Main Street, and John is making a speech, so you don’t want to miss it.
The run is only five kilometers, so it’s over in less than an hour, and then there’s the prize ceremony.
Amanda Willis is handing them out this year! ”
Marv grunts his annoyance, as if Brody should be up there instead.
“There’s also ice carving up at the Locke Reserve, then caroling in the town square at four. It’s so pretty, and we always try to break our own record for the most people caroling wearing Santa hats. Do you and Cara have any?”
Marv shakes his head.
“Don’t worry, I have lots to spare.” Mom types a quick message on her phone. “I’ve asked Harper to bring more when she meets us at the start of the fun run in a bit. After that, it’s the caroling, then back to our place for dinner.”
“Looking forward to it, Erica.”
“Absolutely! It will be our pleasure!”
Kindness runs through my mom to the marrow, but even though my dad has a soft heart, I’m not sure what he’s going to make of Marv.
And if Ethan’s there? I have a horrible suspicion he’s going to start asking awkward questions about why I agreed to promote our “relationship” in such a shameless fashion. Ugh.
“And tomorrow it’s the woolen sock-running championships around the Locke Reserve,” Mom continues. “And I’ve had a wonderful idea for a photo opportunity!”
Uh-oh …
“Go on,” Marv says, leaning forward.
“How about I fix some mistletoe in one of the trees? It’ll look so pretty with all the snow, and I think there should be at least one picture of them kissing.”
Marv glances at us. “Uh … I’m not sure—”
“And they could also make out on the Wishing Bridge over the Hideaway Spring! It’s so romantic. It’s where John and I first kissed.” She sighs happily. “And where he proposed.”
Her dreamy eyes snap into focus, and she looks at Brody, clearly hoping he will follow in Dad’s footsteps. “You and Piper should kiss there. It’ll make the most beautiful picture!”
Suddenly I’m having an out-of-body experience, one where my hormones have kicked out logic and common sense and taken over operations. “Yes, it would,” I hear myself say. “Sounds like a great idea.”
Marv’s eyes light up, and he turns to Brody. “There we go. Piper’s up for it. You on board?”