Chapter 11
Brodie
I walked into my room, having left the bar early.
My head pounded from the heat as I walked over to open the window and allow some fresh air into my musty room.
It was hot, but the night lit up as a crackling white light streaked across the sky, followed a few seconds later by thunder booming through the air.
I shut the window, realizing it might start raining.
It was the middle of June, and for some reason, it was already scorching as if it were July or August. The thunderstorm wasn’t unusual though, and they frequently happened without any rain.
It was nine o’clock at night, and my skin gleamed with sticky sweat from the unusual humidity.
The week had flown by, and I suddenly realized I hadn’t gotten laid the entire time.
On top of that, I’d slept in my own bed …
alone, all week long. Something was wrong with me.
I’d taken my temperature, thinking maybe I had the flu, but I didn’t feel sick.
Just, not in the mood for meaningless sex.
That thought alone told me my mind needed a serious attitude adjustment.
I pulled my t-shirt over my head and unbuttoned my pants, letting them fall to the floor in the bathroom.
As the tepid spray of water streamed down from the showerhead, I stepped in carefully, closing the glass door behind me.
Closing my eyes, water spilled over my face, easing some of the pain behind my eyelids.
Maybe the lack of sex was giving me a headache.
I tried to imagine a girl I’d recently been with, just to see if it would get me in the mood, but the only female that came to mind was, shit …
Gabrielle. Under normal circumstances, picturing Gabrielle was sure to get me excited, but knowing she would never have me left me with little more than a half hard-on. And very frustrated.
After finishing my cool down in the shower, I stepped out and dried myself off.
Tugging on a pair of blue boxer shorts, I headed down the hall toward the kitchen.
Towel drying my hair, I bumped smack into Gabrielle.
She’d been sipping a freezing cold vanilla milkshake, and the entire contents were now all over my not-so-clean-anymore bare chest and her tank top.
“Gah!” I shouted. “What the fuck?”
“Oh my God, Brodie. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“Apparently not,” I said as she grabbed the towel from me and began wiping it across my chest, smearing the sticky mess around more than drying it up.
I placed my hand over hers, helping to sop up the shake.
Her eyes widened and her gaze lingered on my chest as her fingers brushed against one of my nipples.
I held my breath as her fingertips skimmed down over my stomach along with the towel.
“You’re all sticky now.”
“It’ll wash off.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, still trying to get the stickiness off my chest, but only managing to make my blood turn a little warmer. I should get away from her. Now.
“No big deal. It’s okay. I’ll just hop back into the shower again and rinse it off.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, I just had one, but now you can join.” I couldn’t resist. I know, I was a cad, but she looked so gorgeous standing there, her t-shirt slick with ice cream, smelling of vanilla and being so upset about plowing into me.
She completely ignored my offer to join me, which didn’t make sense and certainly didn’t seem like the Gabrielle I was beginning to know.
That Gabrielle would have come back with something sarcastic, or some vehement refusal.
I was sure of it. Instead of sarcasm, she stood there staring, her brown eyes wide with …
I don’t know, horror? Jeez. Was I that bad?
I thought it best to forego my stupid offer, and attempted to cover it up with, “Look, it’s no big deal. I’d barely dried off from the first shower. I can just hop back in.”
She didn’t seem to hear me as she stood there, looking like a scared little girl and murmuring in a small, soft voice, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad.”
I reached out to touch her arm and she flinched.
“I’m not mad. Are you okay?” I asked because she was definitely not acting or sounding like herself.
There was something going on inside that pretty head of hers, and I wasn’t so sure she was going to snap out of it.
I touched her arm again, and she cowered back as if she thought I might hurt her.
She slowly shook her head as though in a daze. “Please don’t make me…”
“Make you do what?”
She seemed so far away as she stood there mumbling, “I didn’t mean to. Please. I’ll be good.”
“Gabrielle. What’s going on?” She took a step back, shaking her head at me. “Gabrielle!” She continued stepping away, staring at my stomach. “Gabrielle! Look at me!” I said, taking her arms in my hands. I let the towel drop to the floor and her eyes followed it. “Gabby, please look at me!”
She finally looked up and our eyes met. Hers were glossy with wetness as a tear dripped down her cheek. She swiped at it with the back of her hand. “Sorry.”
“What the hell is going on? Where did you just go?”
“Nowhere.” She tugged out of my grasp and took off for the guest room she was staying in. She went inside and shut the door.
“What the fuck just happened?” I mumbled and took off for another quick shower.