Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Brooke
Brooke had a problem. The further they got into their holiday, the more each day felt like a date.
Their whole trip was starting to feel like one big, mega date.
And Brooke didn’t date. She didn’t tie herself to people.
She didn’t want to rely on anyone else. That was just a recipe for getting hurt.
But here she was, constantly touching JJ or watching her, taking notes of the way she’d fold up her clothes perfectly every night before bed—even her dirty laundry, or when she’d lock her car twice, every single time, just in case.
Then there was her absurd obsession with BBQ Shapes.
Brooke didn’t notice this kind of shit about people. Small things. Everyday things. Boring things.
But god—they weren’t boring to her.
And Brooke didn’t know what to do with that information. Not one little bit.
Everything had become a tease. This game they were playing. Their stupid rules.
Now even her thoughts were turning her on.
Brooke squirmed and readjusted her legs.
She sat in a fold-out chair at their campsite.
They’d finished their hike and had a luxurious—and necessary—hot shower at the nearby amenities block.
Dinner had been a quick affair of baked beans and toast cooked over the fire, giving the simple dish that little extra something after being infused with the smoke.
Now, in the distance, laughter could be heard on and off from another group of campers. Brooke pulled her hands into her sleeves and tucked them into her armpits as she stared at the embers slowly turning to coals. Crickets chirped all around them.
The sun had set a while ago, and JJ was currently sweeping sand out of their tent by lamp light. According to JJ, Brooke had apparently trudged it in after their hike, but she’d sworn she’d stamped her feet before entering.
Oh—but she had walked back in to grab her hoodie… and back once more for her beanie. Oops.
Well, still. She’d tried to be careful.
“Much better.” JJ placed the banister broom back in her car and locked it—twice. “No more shoes in the tent!” She pointed at Brooke and dropped into the seat next to her.
Brooke stood and moved in front of JJ with her eyebrow raised. “Sorry, I… really should apologise.”
JJ frowned for a second, her eyebrows shooting up the next as Brooke stepped toward her.
Brooke needed to touch her, just a little—a quick taste.
The restlessness had been growing all afternoon.
And then JJ had come back from her shower with wet hair again, and god damn if that didn't do it for her. But the last straw? Seeing JJ all haughty over Brooke’s sandy mess, her wrinkled nose only adding fuel to Brooke’s fire.
She stepped either side of JJ’s legs and lowered herself—inch by slow, torturous inch—onto JJ’s lap, the camp chair groaning with the added weight until they were face to face. JJ’s gaze raked over her face, her chest… drinking her in, and Brooke revelled in it.
Apparently even in crappy worn PJs and a hoodie, she could still turn it!
Brooke leaned in and captured JJ’s lips. Yes, finally.
“I promise I won’t let it happen again,” she whispered against JJ’s mouth.
“Wh—oh. Apology accepted.” JJ squeezed Brooke’s hips and kissed her again.
Brooke hummed. Lips that soft should be illegal and her minty fresh taste was an absolute delight.
Brooke wrapped her arms around JJ’s neck, sinking onto her further and pushing out her chest. It brushed against JJ’s.
Was this flirting with the rules?
Tongues lashed and swirled as JJ deepened the kiss, each stroke sending electricity straight down Brooke’s body, like a physical pulsating current. She moaned at the sensation, her hips beginning to move of their own accord. The chair squeaked as they ramped up.
“Maybe we should—”
“I know,” Brooke replied, not wanting the moment to end. It always needed to stop. Just give her this. A little longer. She made a pitiful sound, disbelieving it had come from herself. JJ’s arms pulled her in closer, tighter. Exactly what she needed.
She felt like she was floating.
No, they were definitely moving.
A loud snap ricocheted into the night, scaring a flock of cockatoos from the trees nearby, their raucous screeches echoing as they flew off.
“Oof!” Brooke landed on JJ in one unholy heap, the grass cushioning their fall with a dull thud.
They stared, stunned for a moment. Even the crickets fell silent.
Giggles erupted, increasing in volume until Brooke’s ribs hurt, and JJ’s stomach felt as if it was punching her.
“I guess we should take this to the tent?” JJ asked once their chuckles had subsided.
Brooke couldn’t scoot up fast enough, their broken chair left on the ground. This time, she made sure to take her shoes off at the entrance.
Inside the tent, there was nowhere for Brooke to run tonight. She needed to be careful, keep herself in check. It was so easy to lose herself in JJ’s touch, but she couldn’t forget JJ’s boundaries.
JJ zipped the flap behind them and came to Brooke, a hand cupping her cheek for a soft kiss.
The hand slipped into her still damp hair, gripping and pulling, lighting up all her nerve endings.
Every move from JJ was a calculated dance, the touches and kisses combining into a rhythm that played Brooke like a perfectly executed song.
Everything in tune, every note striking at just the right time.
And this was just a kiss.
But Brooke felt it everywhere: fire dancing through her veins, hairs tingling on the top of her head, heart drumming to the beat of JJ’s movements. Brooke was lost in it.
How long they were standing there, sock-footed and lips-locked in their little tent, she couldn’t say. The outside world no longer existed.
At some point, JJ pulled her down to the floor. They’d pushed two camp mattresses together and unzipped their sleeping bags to create one big bed. Well, big was pushing it. Their one barely-larger-than-a-twin bed.
JJ switched off their lamp and moved on top of Brooke, half off to the side, propped up on an elbow but still pinning her down.
Her leg draped over Brooke’s and the feel of their cosy pyjamas mixed with soft skin had Brooke’s hands exploring, skimming past any red zones—though surely a little butt squeeze was okay?
There was something different about tonight; their pace remained slow and unhurried. Brooke stopped worrying about needing to be careful. With boundaries firmly established, she was content kissing JJ for hours.
And so she did.
Her body vibrated at a low hum instead of the increasing ache for a climax. But she found with JJ, she really didn’t mind at all.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, their movements slowed. Brooke placed one last kiss on JJ’s forehead, a hand resting on her chest. A sign to say good night, not a suggestion for anything more.
With that, they rolled over, and JJ tucked herself in behind Brooke, a hand sliding onto her stomach as though they did this every night. How did they fit together so perfectly?
“Okay?” JJ asked, a soft mumble into her hair.
Brooke thought of cutlery again, imagining her fork’s tines curling, fusing together into a smooth, curved utensil.
Maybe she wanted to be a spoon after all.
At least, for tonight. She shuffled back into JJ, body easing into JJ’s warmth…
until it began to feel like torture. Brooke shut her eyes but her mind was anything but ready to settle down.
What grew between them tonight felt heavier than just touches and kisses.
At least for Brooke. Intimacy for her had always been fast, frivolous and…
in a sense, selfish. A means to a hopefully climactic end.
But tonight? This was deeper, shared. Brooke’s thoughts focused on how she hoped her touch and her actions made JJ feel as good as she did.
JJ moved, pulling Brooke closer.
In less than a week they’d be saying goodbye.
But what if they didn’t?
Behind her, JJ’s breathing evened out. Brooke wanted to roll over and look at her.
Was she seriously wondering what it would be like to date JJ?