Anywhere But Here (Tradie Lady #3)

Chapter 1

ONE

Brooke

Fuck this place.

Long strides carried Brooke to the end of the street. The itch inside her grew, mind racing. Where is it?

She picked up the pace and jogged faster. Running. Sprinting.

Everything blurred past her under the dim streetlights, familiar and different all at once. There was the bike path. The river. Brooke’s chest burned, her messenger bag thumping against her hip with every stride.

The opening came into view.

It was still there.

She exhaled, the sound loud and rough.

Her legs wobbled as she ran down the slope to the tall reeds. The angular, stacked rocks sat beyond them, barely lit by the pathway lights. She clambered onto the first rock and hopped across.

One. Two. Three—Four.

Made it.

Brooke bent over and gulped in a lungful of air. The effort to get here was absurd.

Probably because she wasn't nineteen anymore.

No. Brooke Mayfield was twenty-nine and back here in this shithole.

Home.

It didn't feel like home anymore.

She straightened and took in the space around her. The old gums towered along the riverbank, closing out the dark sky above.

Ten years.

The family house had been sold, three streets down from where Hayley and Marie had settled down—where Brooke had landed on their doorstep and into their guest bedroom five weeks ago, her chest growing tighter with each passing day.

At least it wasn’t Steven’s house, wedged in the kid’s bedroom between her nieces. No, thank you.

Staying with her sister, Hayley, was bad enough.

Always with the questions, as though she cared. Hayley’s face pinched as she tried to solve Brooke like a puzzle—a problem to be fixed.

Why are you back, Brooke?

What’s wrong, Brooke?

This was never her plan. Travelling was her life. Living and working overseas was all she knew. Not being back in this bottomless hole of nothing.

Yet here she was.

Adelaide.

She’d shoved this place so far back into the recesses of her mind that being here felt like a dream.

No, a nightmare.

Brooke dropped onto her favourite rock, worn smooth from years of use. Her fingers traced the long gash in the stone. While she liked to think this was her spot to get away, many others must have come here too. If only the rock could talk, revealing the stories and secrets it held.

Brooke exhaled, finally away from piercing eyes, smiling faces, and so many questions. She picked up a pebble and flicked it into the water with a plink.

Of course Hayley still had her game nights, where everyone had so much fun, living their perfect little lives with their perfect partners. Ugh. Brooke couldn’t be surrounded by that. Not tonight. She had no answers to give.

Her frown etched deeper and her temple throbbed.

The ripples spread across the surface of the water.

She scuffed in another rock with her foot, new rings chasing the old until they faded into nothing.

Just like the life she’d left behind—the expectations she never lived up to, that she strove to achieve but never quite grasped.

Always a step behind her siblings. In the shadows.

Life was better on her own anyway.

Travel had given her that freedom. Freedom to discover who she was when she was just Brooke, without the expectation of being a Mayfield.

She pulled her legs up, chin resting on her knees.

The water trickled around the stones, a balm trying to slow her heartbeat.

Frogs played their soothing cadence alongside crickets in the reeds.

She closed her eyes, willing her frown to ease and allowing herself this moment with no one around. To just… be.

Sorting out her next steps was a top priority if she didn’t want to be stuck here forever.

She’d spent the morning applying for every job she had the slimmest chance of getting: admin roles, bartending, even local hostels in the city.

While overseas, she’d flitted from job to job depending on the location.

A Jill of all trades, her last role was a kitchen hand for a yoga retreat in the heart of Canggu in Bali’s south.

But even the cheap living in Bali had risen in cost. Travelling full time now was a different world from when she’d first left for Paris at nineteen.

Jumping back to Australia, back to family, was the one viable option.

She was tired of trying to make it work.

She needed time to regroup, re-energise and replan.

Her dwindled savings only added to the pressure—the pitiful amount stretching even less now she’d left Indonesia.

Dollar breakfasts at the morning markets in Bali were a thing of the past. Now, it was a choice between eating Hayley’s fancy granola that cost a week’s worth of meals back in Bali or paying thirty dollars for a latte and avocado toast if she headed to a cafe.

It was like being a teenager again, back to relying on others.

Though, now she had no low paying job and no parents to fall back on.

Technically asking her parents was an option, but hell could freeze over before she uttered those words aloud.

She had no intention of speaking to them now she was back. They were probably too busy anyway.

Her phone vibrated in her bag. Was Hayley wondering where she went? Slipping into that parental role again and checking if Brooke was behaving herself?

Another vibration broke her solitude. Her eyes snapped open as she yanked the phone out.

Brett has swiped right, say hi!

Why not? Nothing better to do tonight.

Fifteen minutes later, a Jeep careened around the corner, pulling up to Brooke’s dropped pin. The passenger window wound down and the driver leaned over. He flashed her a brilliant white smile, matching his profile picture exactly.

“Brett?” she asked.

His eyes dipped, roving over her low-cut top. The guys were always the same—too much money and not enough sense. No strings at least.

“Hi,” he replied, his confidence wafting out like his French cologne. He leaned across and pushed open the door.

She smiled, slipping into the car. His hand landed on her thigh before she’d even clicked on her seatbelt.

Might as well have some fun in Boredom Town.

“Hey,” Hayley said as Brooke snuck through the lounge room.

She hadn’t expected her sister to still be awake, reading alone on the sofa.

Hayley sat in her long-sleeved PJs, a matching set in plum satin, of course, with a blanket pulled over her lap.

Her long blonde hair—the same dead-straight type as Brooke’s—brushed her shoulders.

Hayley’s gaze swept over Brooke. Yet another moment to be judged.

Brooke swallowed, hoping to suppress her blush. She raised her chin, gripping her shoes tighter in her hand as she continued through the room with purpose, Brett’s acrid cologne no doubt betraying her with every step.

“Night,” Brooke mumbled as she made it to the bottom of the stairs.

“Um…”

Brooke glanced over her shoulder. Hayley’s self-development book was now closed in her lap. The room’s single lamp cast a soft golden glow that shadowed most of her features, but Brooke could just make out the slight frown.

“What?” Brooke snapped, turning to face her. Argh, that’s not—midnight was not the time to start a conversation. Especially when she reeked like this, a shower calling her to wash away her decisions, the touch she thought she’d wanted. Needed.

Hayley stared for a moment, opening her mouth then closing it. She swung her legs off the stupid blue velvet couch and let out a sigh. “I just…” She avoided Brooke’s eyes, hand tracing the spine of her book. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Brooke had been waiting for that question. She wasn’t good enough to stay with her sister. Hiding in her room, staying out to give them space—it hadn’t made a difference. The itch to run returned, her heel pivoting back to the front door.

She remained frozen on the spot, squeezing the shoes in her hand. “I don’t know.”

God. Could people give her some time to catch her breath and figure her shit out?

“Have you still been applying to those jobs?”

“Yes, Hayley. I haven’t been sitting around doing nothing.”

“Clearly.” Hayley looked at her then. Brooke wished she hadn’t. Not now.

Her face flamed.

“I’m going to bed. Good night.” Brooke spoke through her teeth, unable to keep the edge out of her voice. At least her voice hadn’t wavered.

“Sure. Night.” Hayley sighed and tossed her book on the coffee table with a thud.

Brooke tensed. The pressure was back at her temples, blocking the right words to say, to explain, or be able to answer with something—anything. Why did she get like this every damn time she was in the same room as her sister?

Brooke turned, hand gripped on the balustrade and strode upstairs.

Hayley used to be Brooke’s favourite family member.

Technically, she still was. She just didn't know who Hayley was anymore. Her sister lived the dream—perfect wife, perfect house, perfect friends. Every aspect of her sister’s life was a constant reminder of how little Brooke had to her name.

It was easy to forget what a failure she was when on the road, where nobody knew her.

While she’d kept in touch over the years, it wasn’t as much as she should have.

A Happy Birthday here or a Merry Christmas there.

At this point, Brooke didn’t know how to “sister” anymore.

There was before Brooke and Hayley. And there was now Brooke and Hayley.

Two strangers trying to tip-toe around each other, the friction growing stronger each day, and Brooke had no idea how to fix it.

She entered the bathroom, sighing as Hayley’s questions rattled around on repeat. For the first time in her life, Brooke didn’t know what was next. It felt like being in a car at night without the headlights on—life was still moving, but Brooke had no idea where she would end up.

She needed time. Time and a little space to figure things out.

Brooke slipped into the shower, allowing the water to cascade down her back as she stared at her hands.

She rubbed at her skin, desperate to feel clean, to feel something.

Usually, she loved a random one-night stand.

A drink here, a bit of fun there. Yet tonight, it didn't hit the same. No matter how much she’d tried to relax in the moment, her mind wouldn’t shut up.

Every random thought wanted to step up on stage and be heard.

She’d been counting down the minutes, questioning why what was usually a fun time now felt… empty and… almost dirty.

Was it because she wasn't travelling anymore? Living overseas, hooked on the vibrancy of life and bouncing with the same energy as all the other backpackers and people passing through?

Tears joined the streams of water trailing down her body.

If only showering could clean up her life too.