14. Trevor
Chapter 14
Trevor
T he sharp scent of motor oil fills my nostrils as I slide under the Mustang's gleaming chassis. Coltrane's mellow saxophone drifts from the speakers, usually soothing my restless mind, but not today. Today, every note reminds me of Brooke's laugh, soft and melodic.
I reach for a wrench, my hands moving on autopilot as my thoughts wander. The cool metal against my skin brings back the feel of her fingers brushing mine as we reached for the bottle of wine the other night.
I roll out from under the car, wiping my hands on a rag. My gaze falls on the radio, and I can't help but smile. Brooke's enthusiasm when I mentioned my love for jazz was infectious. Her eyes had lit up, and she'd said, ‘ I never pegged you for a jazz man, Dr. Jacobs. You're full of surprises. ’
I chuckle at the memory. "You have no idea, Brooke," I say to the empty garage.
The urge to call her is overwhelming. I want to hear her voice constantly, to tell her about this classic car restoration project I’m working on. She'd probably tease me about being a ‘grease monkey’, her eyes sparkling with mirth .
I run a hand through my hair, realizing too late that it's covered in oil. Smooth move, I groan. Real smooth.
"Focus," I tell myself sternly. "The car needs your attention. Brooke doesn’t."
But even as I say it, I know it's a lie. The truth is, I need her. Her warmth, her kindness, the way she sees right through my carefully constructed walls. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
What the fuck is happening to me?
I pick up a wrench, determined to lose myself in the familiar routine of tightening bolts and checking fluids. But instead, I just sit here on the garage floor thinking about her,
"Damn it," I mutter, tossing the wrench aside. "What are you doing to me, Brooke Edwards?"
I reach for my phone, my heart pounding. Should I call her? What would I even say? 'Hey, I can't stop thinking about you'? Yeah, that wouldn't sound desperate at all.
My thumb hovers over her name in my contacts when suddenly?—
"Trying to summon your lady love through sheer willpower?"
I nearly jump out of my skin, dropping my phone. "Shit, Reid! Wear a bell or something, will you?"
My colleague, and friend, is leaning against the garage doorframe, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your brooding session. Though I gotta say, it's a good look on you lately. Very tortured artist vibe."
I roll my eyes, trying to hide my embarrassment. "I wasn't brooding. I was... contemplating."
"Uh-huh," Reid says, unconvinced. "Well, consider your contemplation over. We're going out."
"What? No, I've got plans?—"
"Staring at your phone isn't a plan, Trevor. Come on, I’ve got a rare night off and Hoopla's is calling our names."
I hesitate, torn between the desire to wallow and the knowledge that Reid's probably right. "Fine," I concede. "But I'm not staying out late."
"That's the spirit!" Reid claps me on the back. "Now, text your girl so she doesn't think you've fallen into an engine or something."
Sighing, I pick up my phone and type out a quick message to Brooke.
Me: Was about to call, but I've been kidnapped for boys' night at Hoopla's. Save me?
Her reply comes almost instantly.
Brooke: From boys' night or from yourself?
I can't help but grin.
Me: Both? Though I'd hate to deprive you of my chivalrous side.
Brooke: Wouldn't dream of it. Have fun, Sir Trevor. Try not to slay too many dragons.
I pocket my phone, feeling lighter already. "Alright, Reid," I say, grabbing my stuff. "Let me grab a quick shower and then let' s see what kind of trouble we can get into."
The familiar clack of billiard balls echoes through Hoopla's as I line up my shot. The warm glow of the overhead lamps casts a golden hue over the green felt.
"You gonna take that shot sometime this century?" Reid teases, leaning on his cue stick.
I chuckle, shaking my head. "Just trying to psych you out, man." I sink the ball with a satisfying thunk, but my mind's not really on the game and my friend knows it.
"Alright, spill it," Reid says, eyeing me over his beer. "You've got that look again."
"What look?"
"The 'I'm-trying-to-solve-a-medical-mystery-but-it's-actually-about-a-girl' look."
I groan, running a hand through my hair. "Is it that obvious?"
Reid grins. "Only to someone who's known you forever. So, what's going on with you and this girl Brooke? You in love with her or something?"
The question hangs in the air, and I find myself wanting to answer. "I don't know, man. It's... different with her. She's not just beautiful, she's... intriguing. Smart. Kind. But there's something else, too. Like she's holding back a part of herself."
"Sounds like you're pretty smitten," Reid observes, taking his turn at the table.
"I think I’m more than smitten," I admit, surprised by how easy it is to say that out loud. "But I don't want to screw this up. What if I'm reading too much into it?"
Reid straightens up, his expression turning serious. "Look, man. I've seen you go through some real rough patches. But I've also seen how you light up when you talk about Brooke. My advice? Jump right in with both feet."
His words resonate deeply, and I nod, mulling them over. "Maybe you're right. I just... I can't shake this feeling that there's more to her story."
"Then give her some time to tell it," Reid says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Good things are worth waiting for."
I smile, feeling a weight lift off my chest. "When did you get so wise, Lawson?"
"Must be all those medical journals I read," he quips, lining up another shot. "Now, are we gonna finish this game, or are you gonna keep daydreaming about your librarian?"
I laugh, picking up my cue stick. "Game on, buddy. Just don't cry again when I wipe the floor with you."
The bell above Hoopla's door chimes, and my heart skips a beat when I see Brooke walk in. Her red hair catches the warm light of the bar, and her eyes sparkle as they find mine. She’s stunning, in that effortless, understated way that has me completely captivated every time I see her.
"Well, well," I say, leaning casually against the pool table, a grin tugging at my lips. "I see I have a damsel in distress needing saving.”
Brooke raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into that playful smile I can’t get enough of. "Actually, I heard there was a knight in shining armor in need of saving himself. Though you seem to be handling yourself just fine."
I set the pool cue against the table, stepping closer to her, close enough to catch the intoxicating hint of her floral perfume. It’s subtle, soft, and completely distracting. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment to be rescued. "
She tilts her head, a teasing gleam in her eyes. "Is that so? And what would this rescue entail, exactly?"
The challenge in her tone, the spark in her gaze—it’s all too much to resist. My pulse quickens, and before I can overthink it, the words are out. "How about a midnight boat ride?"
Her eyes widen, surprise flickering into excitement. She glances towards the door, then back at me. "That sounds... adventurous. Are you sure we can do that this late?"
I take her hand in mine, marveling at how perfectly her fingers fit between mine. Like they were meant to be there. "With you? Absolutely. Hell, it’s my boat. I can do whatever I want to with it. What do you say we get out of here?"
“Nah, thanks for asking, but I’m not feeling like going out on the water this time of night.” Reid waves us off sarcastically from the other side of the pool table, where he’s nursing his third beer.
“Sorry, dude. This is only a boat ride for two.” I shake his hand and flash him a grin, before turning my full attention back to Brooke. “Thanks for the beers and the games.”
Reid chuckles deeply, calling after us as we head for the door. “Try to keep him honest, Brooke.”
She glances over her shoulder, throwing him a mischievous smile. “No promises.”
Reid’s laughter follows us as we step out into the cool night air. The salty tang of the ocean carries on the breeze, mingling with the faint sounds of laughter and live music drifting from the bar. Hand in hand, we make our way toward the marina.
The quiet anticipation between us is electric. I steal glances at Brooke as we walk, the moonlight catching the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her hair moves with the breeze. She’s breathtaking, and I wonder if she feels the same pull I do—a magnetic force drawing us closer, like it’s impossible to resist.
Once we’re on my boat, I start the engine, the low hum blending into the peaceful symphony of the harbor. The water is calm, the surface reflecting the stars above like a mirror. Brooke moves to the bow as I maneuver us out into the Atlantic Ocean, her silhouette framed against the endless expanse of the night sky. The breeze plays with her hair, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
"You know," she calls over her shoulder, a playful lilt in her voice, "I half expected you to have a saxophone hidden away on this boat somewhere."
I laugh, stepping closer to join her at the bow. "Sorry to disappoint you. It’s at home. Although, I could always serenade you with my stunningly terrible vocals instead."
She giggles, the sound light and melodic. "I think I’ll pass on that offer, but thanks anyway."
The boat glides effortlessly through the water, the harbor lights growing smaller behind us as we venture farther into the open ocean. The stillness of the night wraps around us, broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the hull.
Brooke leans against the railing, her arms resting on the edge, her gaze fixed on the horizon. I watch her for a moment, caught in the way the moonlight dances across her features. There’s a vulnerability in her quiet moments, a softness that makes me want to protect her, to hold her close and never let go. I take a breath; the realization hits me hard and fast.
I’m in love with Brooke.
The thought is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. My heart pounds in my chest, and for a moment, I’m completely thrown by the weight of it.
Before I can spiral into full-blown panic mode, Brooke turns to me, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
I shake my head, forcing a smile. "Not a ghost. Just… realizing something."
We sit on the edge of the boat, our feet hanging from the side as we talk about everything and nothing at the same time. It’s been hours since we left the marina, and although we can see it in the distance, it feels like it’s just her and I all alone in the world.
I gesture to the horizon. "Look."
She follows my gaze, her eyes widening as the first rays of dawn break over the water. The sky comes alive with vibrant hues of pink, orange, and gold, the colors spilling across the horizon like a masterpiece.
"It’s beautiful," she whispers, her voice filled with awe.
"Not as beautiful as you," I murmur, pulling her closer to me, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
She turns to face me, her expression softening, her cheeks tinted with the faintest blush. "You’re full of surprises tonight, Dr. Jacobs. Thank you for this." We both climb back up and face the horizon.
The moment stretches between us, the world around us fading until it’s just the two of us, bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun. Slowly, hesitantly, Brooke steps closer, her hands resting lightly against my chest. My arms slide around her waist, pulling her against me.
"Trevor," she begins, her voice barely above a whisper.
I tilt her chin up gently, my thumb brushing across her jaw. "Brooke, I?—"
Before I can finish, she closes the distance between us, her lips pressing softly against mine. The kiss is tentative at first, but then it deepens, the warmth of her body against mine anchoring me in the moment.
When we finally pull apart, her forehead rests against mine, her eyes still closed. The corners of her lips curve into a small, contented smile. "I think I’ve been waiting for that," she whispers.
I chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "So have I."
As the sun continues its ascent, casting its golden light across the water, I hold Brooke close, knowing with absolute certainty that this moment—this woman—is everything I didn’t know I needed.
But now, a new thought takes root. Now that I know I love her, what the hell am I going to do about it?