19. Indie
NINETEEN
Indie
C arefree and breathless, Brooks twirls me across the floor, leading me gracefully around the others, enjoying the reception. This week has given me so much more than I expected. I’m relaxed for the first time in a year. I haven’t thought about my business more than a couple of times a day, instead of it being a constant suck on my mental space. I feel refreshed from seeing Taylor and enjoying our girl time. Not to mention the consistent sex glow Brooks keeps me in.
We come to a stop next to the wedding party’s table. It’s empty, many of us drinking and dancing the night away. I catch my breath and lean into Brooks as he hands me my fourth—no fifth glass of proper champagne. My head is even lighter with the alcohol in my veins after the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me in the truck.
“I’ll be back. I need to powder my nose after that,” I say, leaning up to kiss him. It’s become as natural as holding his hand whenever we’re in touching distance.
The night air feels good against my heated skin when I step out of the barn to make for the main house. The DJ’s mix of country and pop blares through the night, boisterous laughter and singing adding to the volume. People mill about, enjoying the outdoor games and seating for a quieter moment with their dates.
There’s a pep in my step, an urgency to get back to Brooks and enjoy every minute we can squeeze out of the night. I stumble down the hall, beelining for the bathroom in the same room we used to get ready for the wedding with all our stuff stored away for safekeeping.
I push through the door and come to an abrupt halt. Taylor and Nick are locked in a heated argument, their voices low but tense, as if they’re trying to keep it contained—even though they’re the only ones in the room. I clear my throat, and in an instant, both of their heads swivel toward me in perfect sync.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask, my voice cutting through the tension in the air.
Taylor steps back with a casual flick of her wrist, a smile plastered across her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Not at all,” she says, her tone too light to be genuine. “Nick and I are done here.”
Nick’s jaw tightens at the dismissal, his eyes flashing with frustration and something else, but he doesn’t argue. He huffs under his breath, refusing to meet my eyes as he makes his way out of the room, his shoulders stiff with barely contained annoyance. His heavy footsteps echo down the hallway.
I turn back to Taylor, feeling the weight of the unspoken truth lingering between us. “Tay, what the hell was that all about?”
I watch her closely, trying to read her like I usually have no issue doing, but she’s masking her emotions. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear they’d just had a lover’s quarrel. But Taylor’s head-over-heels in love with Spencer. There’s no way she’d have anything going on the side with Nick. Not in a million years. So, what the hell was that all about?
Taylor shrugs nonchalantly, though a flicker of unease hides behind her calm exterior. “It’s nothing, really. Nick’s just worried about Brooks. He didn’t want to take it to Spencer and ruin his evening, so he thought it was better to talk it out with me.”
I raise an eyebrow, my mind already running through the possibilities. Nick’s worried about Brooks? That could mean anything, or it could mean Brooks isn’t as good at hiding his hardships from his brother as he thinks. But why would Nick want to conceal those concerns from Spencer? A knot forms in my stomach as I try to keep my face neutral, hiding the sudden rush of concern threatening to show.
“Why do you look like you know something?” Taylor’s sharp eyes narrow in on me, calling me out with her signature tone.
I try to play it off, but the words slip out before I can stop them. “It’s not my business to say, Tay, but… there’s some stuff going on with Brooks that he doesn’t want to burden his brother with.”
Taylor doesn’t miss a beat. She barks out a laugh, shaking her head. “Why can’t men just communicate instead of keeping everything hush-hush and causing more problems?”
The air lightens around us with her words. I can’t help but grin, shrugging as I answer, “Because they’re men.”
“Well, Nick had something else interesting to share about you, though.”
“Me?” I squeak.
“Yep, well, the both of you, technically.” Her lips twitch in amusement as she leans in a little. “Seems you didn’t go unnoticed in Brooks’ truck before the reception.”
Heat rushes to my face, no doubt turning my cheeks a bright red to match her lipstick. “No. He didn’t.”
She raises an eyebrow, her blinding smile growing wider. “He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either. So, are we still going with the it’s nothing serious story between you two?”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. “Tay, not this again.” My voice comes out more defensively than I meant it to. She’s bringing the subject back up at every turn, making it impossible to push it out of my mind completely. The stilted conversation hangs in the air, charged with unspoken answers and secrets. Brooks and I are so close to pulling this off, but at what cost?
To us.
To our best friends.
Is all of this really worth it?
“Like I heavily implied this morning, we’re just enjoying our time together. We’re not making any life-changing plans, Tay. I don’t think we’re ready to make that call.”
She heaves out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Then we better get you back to your hot date before you turn into a pumpkin. But first, can you help me out of my dress and into my honeymoon outfit?” she asks with a twinkle in her eye.
It’s another thirty minutes before Taylor and I return to the barn. Her new outfit is a far cry from her wedding dress—short, flirty, and still white, but more practical and comfortable for her to head out on their trip once she finds her groom. I watch as she moves through the room, her energy light and carefree, clearly ready to get out of here and hit the road. I scan the quieter room, my eyes searching for my own man, while my stomach twists with the weight of having this uncomfortable conversation.
“There you are, beautiful. I was about to send out a search party.”
The sound of his voice breaks my concentration. I smile to myself before turning in his direction. Brooks stands there, looking even more relaxed than before. His jacket and tie are long gone, his white shirt's top couple of buttons undone, and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal those muscled forearms. His presence is magnetic, and for a second, everything else fades into the background.
“Sorry about that,” I say, forcing a casual tone despite the heavy weight in my chest. “Ran into a little situation.”
“Anything I can help with?” His voice is soft but sincere, the kind of genuine offer that makes my heart pang at the possibilities we’re giving up.
I know once I tell him, it’ll change the course of our night. The last night we have together. What I hoped would be filled with laughter and more time sequestered away and naked could be derailed. But I also know it’s important that he hears this from me.
“I walked in on Nick and Taylor.”
Brooks’ face freezes, his eyes going wide. It’s like time slows for a moment, and I hear the words echoing back in my head, realizing just how they sounded and the incorrect picture they painted. His mouth falls open, and I can see the wheels turning, trying to process what I’ve just said.
“Oh my god, no, that’s not what I meant,” I blurt out, a laugh escaping my lips—half in embarrassment, half in disbelief at how badly I’ve communicated.
His tense posture melts away, and he pulls me into the warmth of his embrace, his arms wrapping around me with that familiar sense of comfort I’ve come to rely on. “Jesus, woman,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice laced with relief. “I thought I was about to knock my brother out on the dance floor. Now, please explain further. I’m missing something.”
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. “It’s about the bar. I think you need to tell Nick what’s going on. He knows something’s up. He went to Taylor about it.”
At the mention of the bar situation, Brooks’ entire demeanor shifts. His eyes, usually warm and happy, harden with an intensity I’ve never seen in him before. It’s like a switch flips, and suddenly, he’s distant, closed off. The coldness in his gaze hits me like a punch to the gut. I hate it.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says, his voice much sharper than before. “I don’t want to put that worry on him. Especially when I’m so close to getting everything back on track, it’s almost handled.”
“What’s almost handled?”
We’d been so caught up in the moment that neither of us noticed Nick’s approach. He looks no more relaxed than when he stormed out of the room, away from me and Taylor. If anything, he seems like he’s spoiling for a fight, his posture rigid, jaw clenched, and eyes flashing with a barely contained frustration.
Fuck.
“This isn’t the time or the place for this conversation,” Brooks says, his tone now bordering on pleading as he tries to calm his brother’s rising ire. He steps forward, placing himself between Nick and me, but Nick doesn’t back down.
“So, you’re admitting a conversation needs to be had.” Nick’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade.
Brooks hesitates, clearly torn. “Fine, yes. We need to talk about something, but not now, Nick. Don’t do this to Taylor and Spence.”
The words offer peace, but Nick doesn’t seem ready to let it go. His eyes flick to me for a split second, and I catch a glimpse of the lighthearted jokester I started to get to know. But beneath it, I see something else, a silent plea for an ally, for someone to bridge the gap between him and his brother.
I can’t just stand here and watch them skate around the truth, festering a hole in their relationship. I cut in quickly, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalates. “Listen, I should go check on a couple of things before the bride and groom leave for the night,” I say, forcing as much calm as possible into my voice. “Why don’t you two go talk? Figure this out.”
Brooks looks at me for a long moment. He knows I’m lying and don’t have anything else to do. I just came back with Taylor. But he doesn’t call me out on it. He nods, his jaw tight, as though he understands I’m trying to play the mediator here.
Nick doesn’t hesitate. “Great. Let’s go,” he snaps, turning on his heels and heading toward the barn doors without even glancing to see if Brooks is following.
“Don’t hate me,” I say softly.
His lips curl into the slightest smile, but there’s an edge to it. “Don’t you dare leave without me,” he orders.
Then he’s dropping a swift kiss on my forehead and turning to stomp after his brother, his footsteps heavy with determination.