17. Ro
Iwoke with a jolt, my body damp with perspiration. My eyelids fluttered madly until, finally, the room became less like a silent movie and more like my bedroom. Pressure around my waist and heat at my back brought me back to the moment. I looked down at the corded forearm resting across my stomach. The massive hand with the finest coating of blond hair on its back. Brody.
I’d imagined waking up in his arms like this a million times, but a burn ignited my chest as last night came back to me. His lips on mine. His fingers deep inside me.
I’d dreamed of Brody. Brody and me. In the nightmarish world my subconscious created, he’d invited me up to Denver after my family kicked me out for lying to them. He’d opened the door to his apartment, all smiles. But an assortment of gorgeous, naked women lay around, calling out his name. I’d reached out to pull him away, but he’d just shrugged his shoulders. Smirked and winked.
The unpleasant vision matched with the fitful night I’d had. Every time he’d stirred in his sleep, I’d woken, a feeling of impending doom hovering over me like a black cloud. The glow of my pleasure was tainted by the burn low in my gut.
Pale light filtered through the window, and a moth bashed softly against the glass. Maybe it hoped to make its escape after a night held prisoner in my room. The beat of my heart matched its fluttering.
Brody’s breath warmed the back of my neck, and I slowly shifted around to face him. He stirred a little at the movement, his eyelids trembling as he dreamed. Despite the bubble of nausea in my stomach, the corners of my lips lifted. He still had a scattering of faint freckles across his nose. Coop used to call him Pippy Long Stocking, but his youthful face now had a leaner, harder look. The purple smudges under his eyes told a story of worry, and I tamped down the urge to reach out and trace them with my fingertips.
In the golden light of morning, Brody looked like a God. A superhero. Apollo incarnate. A fantasy.
The ache in my chest deepened. That’s exactly what last night had been. A fantasy. A memory to be stored away somewhere safe. No gods were racing around in togas, marching up and down the streets of Tuft Swallow. No superheroes in crochet capes. And no matter how much I’d wanted Brody last night, giving in to desire would end in tears.
Mine.
Brody would be gone soon, and he’d leave me to deal with the fallout of my heart all over again.
With a soft moan, his eyes opened, and I held a breath.
“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured. The tiniest of smiles nudged Brody’s mouth, and he leaned in and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin. I closed my eyes tight. His words were all I’d ever craved. But how many other women had he greeted like that? I could picture them so clearly. The ones from my dream, the few I”d seen him with online. I could never live up to any of them.
I swallowed and pushed away, coming to face him on the pillow. “We need to talk.”
The moment the words left my lips, Brody’s jaw tightened, and a crease appeared between his brows. “We do?”
I nodded, biting down on my bottom lip.
“What is it?”
I stared into his ocean-blue eyes, nausea rising at the thought of what I was about to say. “Last night can’t ever happen again. You know that, right?”
Brody blinked four times in quick succession. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but when I curled my arms around my body, he sighed and rolled onto his back. “I thought last night was what you wanted. We were what you wanted. Was it that disappointing?” His voice was tight and quiet, and all I desired was to cling to his chest. Tell him I’d got it wrong. Tell him how much I’d loved having him touch me. But I had to be sensible. Smart.
“I thought we were what I wanted too, but I don’t think I can hurt Cooper. And that’s just what any confessions from either of us would do. He trusts us both. I’m scared how he’ll react.”
It was the truth. I didn’t want to be responsible for any trouble between Brody and my brother, and any “I want to sleep with your sister” revelations would mean just that. No matter how close they were, he’d worry I’d get hurt. That Brody’s intentions weren’t good. Hell, I didn’t even know if they were, myself. He hardly had the best track record.
And if, in some fictional world, Brody and I got together and then split up, things between the two of them would never be the same. I couldn’t live with that. Brody was Coop’s oldest friend.
Judging from the bob at Brody’s throat and the quickness of his breath, similar thoughts crossed his mind, too. I gave a tiny shake of my head. Any bad feeling between the two of them was something I couldn’t bear.
Brody cleared his throat. “Let me get this straight. You want to return to both of us pretending we don’t want each other?”
My chest pulled, and I bunched my hands. “Yes.” Every nerve in my body screamed out against the lie.
Brody’s brows furrowed tight together, and seconds passed before he spoke, his words harsher than before. “I’m not sure if I’m amused or offended.”
I dared to reach out a hand, touching the solid wall of his abs through his T-shirt. “Neither. I’m not trying to make any sort of point here. I care about you, I really do, but I just think keeping things simple is for the best. Neither of us needs any drama in our lives right now.”
He huffed a breath into the still of the room. Emotions ran over his face, and a muscle pulsed in his jaw. After what felt like an age, he turned his head on the pillow, his eyes meeting mine. They were unsure and wide. So unlike Brody. “You still want me to come to the derby tryout?”
“Of course. Who else is going to polish my knee pads?” My attempt at humor was pitiful, but when his brows unfurrowed, I could have somersaulted around the room.
Brody reached for the hand I still had against his stomach, touching its back with his warm fingers. “I don’t really understand. And I don’t like it, but if pretending I don’t want to kiss the life out of you every minute is what you want, I’ll comply.” Bringing his other arm down to his side, he flipped toward me and leaned in to kiss me on the forehead again. “I’ll honor your wishes. But I want you to know how good last night was for me. How much it meant.”
Breath skittered around in my chest, and my heart fired louder than a cannon as I stared at his beautiful face, desperate to take all my words back. Instead, I bit down on my tongue and nodded. I was really doing this. Shattering my girlhood dreams, crushing my heart, and ruining my chance with Brody. I could never take back my words, and the dull ache in my chest checked in and reserved a room for the foreseeable future.
“It’s early,” I whispered. “We should get up.”
Brody let out a long sigh, nodded, then pushed up to step off the bed. He was still in his sweatpants and crumpled blue T-shirt. Never had plain and simple looked so delicious.
I rolled off the bed and grabbed a pair of shorts that lay on a chair, pulling them up over my hips, aware of his eyes on me. When I’d fastened them, I lifted my hand to touch his arm. “I’m sorry, Brody.”
He shook his head before bringing his forehead to meet mine, eyes closed. “Me too.”
We stood together for the longest time, our breath mingling, before I pulled away and opened the door.
Brody followed me into the hallway, and no sooner had we crept along the carpet than Gran rounded the corner. I don’t know who was more shocked.
“Oh!” she squeaked, her eyes roaming over the two of us.
I froze like a deer in headlights, but from behind me, Brody stepped forward, bringing one hand to the small of my back, his touch as light as featherdown.
“You shouldn’t have any more problems, Ro. Just let me know if you need anything else.” I nodded dumbly, and he gave me a tight smile before looking at Gran. “Morning, Maggie.”
Without another word, Brody headed past Gran and down the stairs.
After watching him descend, she turned to me. “Ro?”
I met Gran’s questioning gaze, grasping for excuses as to why Brody would leave my room so early on a Wednesday morning. “What? My lamp was flickering. It bothered me, and Brody offered to help.”
Her crepey brow furrowed. “In the daylight?”
My heart lurched. Perhaps I should book a course in creating more believable, feeble excuses. All I could do was nod and head back into the sanctuary of my room, Gran’s eyes hard on my back.
I shut the door and leaned against its cool wood surface, fighting the tears that pricked my eyes. The hot wash of guilt at my lie and the regret that crashed over me was everything I wanted to avoid. Based on the thudding of my chest, I’d made the right choice.
Quashing any idea of Brody and me together was the right thing to do, but until he left town, I’d be in absolute torment.