Chapter 15 Brooke
FIFTEEN
Brooke
Brooke’s body was on fire.
She’d tossed and turned most of the night; trying to get comfortable, trying to get warm and trying to give JJ her space.
At some point, she must’ve dozed off, only to now wake, feeling as if she’d been dropped straight into a scalding hot bath.
Though, said bath currently moved, pulling her closer.
Oh.
Recognition swam to the surface. The helicopter. The swag. JJ.
She stiffened, the jerking motion making JJ’s hand slip beneath her shirt, pressing onto her stomach. Oh. Warm breath tickled the hairs on her neck.
Brooke didn’t cuddle. She’d never been cuddled, never given cuddles.
She wasn’t a spoon type of girl. She was the fork.
Get too close and the pointy end would make sure the other person was back on the other side of the bed.
Now she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, her brain still scrambling nonsense about warm baths and cutlery.
Allowing herself a moment, she could admit it was…
nice. To be held. JJ’s arm draped over her protectively like they’d lain in this position dozens of times before.
Everything about it felt right. Yet this current situation was so very wrong.
JJ would be horrified if she was awake. But, if Brooke woke her now, would that be more awkward?
At least one of them was getting some sleep.
The sounds of the bush began to stir like a welcome chant for the sunrise. A cockatoo screeched from a tree directly above, making both women jump.
The hand, still so warm against her skin, wrenched away as JJ rolled to her back. Crisis averted, hopefully. Brooke turned over to face her. If JJ was aware she’d been spooning Brooke, she didn't show it.
“Morning,” JJ yawned, stretching like a bent banana to avoid touching her. Okay, she definitely had no idea.
Brooke stretched herself, stiff and sore from a night of hard ground and confined sleeping space. Her hips had been digging into something particularly lumpy, and Brooke empathised with the Princess and the Pea in that moment. At least this experience was only for a night.
JJ unzipped them from the swag and insisted she make breakfast. Brooke wasn't about to turn down a chance to be wined and dined, even at six in the morning. If this were a date—not that she did date—JJ would be getting bonus points for this kind of behaviour. These things usually fell on Brooke to look after when travelling with other people. She was the competent one, the one who made sure things got done. Mainly because she’d been the one to look after herself for so many years, it was instinctual.
Everyone else just went along with it. So sitting back like this? It was nice; a welcome change.
Brooke sunk into the fold-out chair with a sigh, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as JJ got the fire going again. She inhaled. The scent of fresh dew, gum leaves and old smoke filled her lungs as the first rays of sun touched the earth.
Getting to see the sunrise on the other side of the ridge gave them an entirely different view from the night before. Now the plains came alive in vivid reds with veins of green running across the flat expanse of land and fading into the distance.
This was how to travel the right way: slowly, living on nature’s circadian rhythm. No waking up to screens, alarms, or the usual busyness of life. Instead, this type of travel broke everyday living down to the bare minimum: food and shelter. Nothing else mattered.
For now.
Her stomach dropped. Now things had slowed, her mind ticked back into gear.
The reminder that this current lifestyle wouldn’t last pressed into her, closing in.
Getting away like this didn’t solve what she was doing next with her life, or the awkwardness waiting for her back at Hayley’s.
Her hand twitched, remembering the notifications and missed calls that had streamed through when they’d landed on top of the range, high enough to get reception.
She’d swiped them all away. Now wasn’t the time either.
Adulting and responsibilities could wait, she had bacon and eggs to eat on a fresh damper roll.
“Penny for your thoughts?” JJ asked, passing her a plate before biting into her own brekkie roll.
Brooke smiled sheepishly as she balanced the plate on her lap. “Thanks. Sorry, that fire is mesmerising. Nothing profound. Just going through my to-do list for when I get back—and pretending it doesn't exist.”
“Ah. Yeah, I get you. It’s been nice not thinking about work or having to paint. I’m finally able to give my mind a break—not to mention my neck and shoulders.” She ran a hand through her hair.
How could JJ look this good after barely touching her hair or showering? Brooke hadn’t touched her own hair, still plaited. It’d be a bee's nest if she tried to wrestle it into anything else.
JJ licked a wayward dollop of sauce off her thumb. Brooke stopped mid-bite, watching.
“You don’t have to answer, but have you had any more thoughts on what you’d like to do when you get back?” JJ asked.
It took Brooke a moment for the question to register. “Sorry, um. For now I’ve just applied to everything and anything available.”
“I know you said that’s what you did while travelling, but is there anything you want to do? Not for the money. For you.”
She… hadn’t considered that. The question surprised her more than it should have.
Her life was a cycle of making money and travelling.
That was going to be her method back here too, though it was starting to feel stale.
Like a favourite jacket that didn’t quite fit anymore.
Rough, uncomfortable, old. A voice stirred, buried deep, trying to surface: You could have stayed overseas.
You could have made it work, you always had before. You chose to come home.
Who was Brooke now if she wasn’t Brooke the World Traveller? She certainly couldn’t go back to being Brooke Mayfield, the imperfect, weird, black sheep of the family. But if not either of them, then who was she?
Her last bite lodged itself in her throat, forcing its way down uncomfortably.
“I… don’t know,” Brooke croaked out.
There weren’t people in her corner to bounce life ideas off like this.
No one stopped long enough to ask, too busy on their phones streaming their hashtag-travel-life.
Influencers were one thing she didn’t miss overseas.
They were everywhere now—the new world travellers.
Brooke classed herself as an OG nomad, those who still travelled for themselves, for the adventure and the culture, not for the likes and follows.
“That’s fair. Sounds like it’s a big change for you, a new chapter of sorts. These things take time.”
“Do you think I’m a failure?”
JJ stopped chewing and stared a beat. “What? Where did that come from?”
“My family thinks so.” Brooke shrugged. “What do you see? An almost thirty-year-old woman with no job, no money, no car, no house, and no idea what she’s doing with her life?” She needed clarification, someone to tell her what she’d known all along.
JJ set the rest of her roll down and shuffled to face Brooke, eyes unwavering.
“I see a fierce woman, unafraid to speak her mind, calm in the face of chaos and crisis, caring and courteous—when she wants to be.” JJ flipped her a grin, continuing, “Also incredibly attractive but down-to-earth and—my tour guide extraordinaire.
I'm sorry, but remind me, which one of those sounds anything like a failure?
So, you're figuring some shit out. Who cares? No one has all the answers to life, and those who say they do are lying through their teeth.”
“I…” Brooke stopped, nodding once. “Thank you.”
No other words came. She’d expected—what had she expected? Not that question slipping from her lips. But also, not that response. They hardly knew each other, yet JJ’s considered reply spoke directly to that little child inside, whose chin rose a little higher, sitting up just a little straighter.
JJ gave the moment space. They went back to their meal and let nature fill the silence.
Mulling over her words, there was one in particular JJ had said that didn’t match the rest. One that had nothing to do with success or failure as a person.
JJ had called her attractive. Incredibly attractive.
The edges of Brooke’s mouth pulled up.