Chapter 1
CHAPTER
ONE
PRESENT
brOOKE
A groan and a hand squeezing my boob bring me out of a dead sleep. It was actually the deepest sleep I’d had in a long time. I’m lying on my back, cozy and nestled against a warm body. Jude Law’s voice is in the background of my consciousness.
My own hand, I realize, is touching something that feels like an arm. A very hard yet soft forearm. I let my fingers skim along the skin for a moment, feeling the lines of muscle.
My eyes slowly open, and I tilt my head to the side to see Silas Arbuckle resting his head on the pillow under us both. His arm is draped across my chest, and his hand has a firm grip on one of my breasts. I gently remove his hand and blame the sleep-induced lust for the inappropriate placement.
If he were awake, I’d be mad. I have a boyfriend after all.
Ending up on this couch with him was already a bad enough decision—too much RumChata and cozy Christmas movies blurred my judgment.
If I were a wise woman, I’d jump off this couch and run for the door.
But when I take in Silas’s stupidly sexy face, I allow myself to daydream for a minute about what it would be like to lie next to him every night.
I look at his long lashes, which should be illegal for a guy to have; his nose, which has a slight bend to it; and a small scar under his eyebrow.
Both are probably from football injuries, I would guess.
And his lips? Sweet baby Jesus. His bottom lip is a little fuller than the top, which dips slightly, creating a perfect Cupid’s bow.
It’s unfair for a man to have such perfect features.
My gaze travels over the tattoos covering his body—from his neck all the way down to his feet.
I only know that because I’ve seen him shirtless and in low-riding shorts.
Tonight, he’s wearing pajamaralls, just like I am, and one strap is unbuttoned now, so the front hangs slightly, showing half of his muscled chest.
What I would give to run my tongue over these ridges.
Stop it, Brooke. You have a boyfriend!
I first saw Silas last year, when he transferred to Walker University from Georgia.
He had moved in with my brother and his other roommates, which meant I saw him fairly regularly.
But I was still in high school at the time, and I felt like I was tongue-tied whenever I was here visiting because he was just that hot.
Since I’m at Walker now, I’ve spent more time with him and gotten to know him better as a person. Yes, he’s an amazing football player, but he’s a great guy off the field too. And he’s really funny.
Silas shifts his body as my fingers continue to drag up and down his arm, but his hand stays firmly on my boob. His eyes flutter open, and he hits me with his blue eyes. A smirk on his face, he winks at me before slowly removing his hand from my chest.
“I would say I’m sorry, but that would be a lie.” He smiles widely now.
I should get up and move away from him. I’m on the edge of the couch after all, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
“Tell me the truth,” he says in a deep, grumbly voice from being asleep. “Did you see my pajamaralls on the table when they came in the other day and you wanted to match me tonight?” He takes my strap and unbuttons one side, making me suck in a breath.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve had mine since October. I was just waiting for the perfect time to wear them.” I huff half-heartedly.
It’s two weeks before Christmas, so Charlie wanted to do an early birthday party for Noelle and have a little pajama competition, and most of the couples matched.
Ace and Aston—the Griffith twins—Lily, and Arbor all had funny designs, but somehow, Silas and I both wore pajamaralls.
He has caribou on his, and they’re … banging.
Mine are cute with a Christmas tree pattern, and I have a white crop top underneath.
“Hmm … I don’t buy it. I think you saw mine and thought it would be the perfect time to let me know how much you were into me.” He tips his head down, and his lips graze my shoulder, making me shiver.
“Oh, please. You wish.” I start to roll to the side to get off the couch, but he holds me to him.
“You’re right. I do.”
He places a soft kiss on my cheek, and I shut my eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips on my skin. But then his words hit me, and I feel the blush hit my cheeks.
“You’re staying here tonight, right? I can walk you home if you’re leaving.”
I nod. “I’ll go sleep in Charlie’s room with her.”
“Or we could just stay here and cuddle all night.” He places his hand on my hip and pulls me into him.
I lift his arm off of me and place it on his leg. “We could, but I don’t think Eli would like that too much.”
“Eli can suck my—”
I cover his mouth with my hand, and his tongue licks my palm, so I yank it away.
“Silas! Gross.”
He chuckles. “But seriously, he’s a douche. Why are you dating that guy?”
“He’s smart. We have a lot in common. I don’t know.” I lift my shoulder. “He’s the first guy who didn’t want to date me to get invited to the football games or parties, so that was nice for a change.”
“You’ve been dating the wrong kind of guys.”
He studies my face, making me feel like I want to kiss him, but also wanting to get away from him before I follow through with it.
“I think it’s time for me to go to bed.” I sit up and stand, and my strap drop, and the front of my pajamaralls open low enough to expose my stomach.
When I look at Silas, his heated gaze is on my bare skin.
Eli doesn’t look at me like this. He’s the only person I’ve had sex with, so I don’t have a lot of experience to compare, but I feel like I’m either doing something wrong—although he’s very much the kind of guy who would tell me if I was doing something wrong—or he’s just not attracted to me.
Nothing like the heat in Silas’s gaze is the way Eli looks at me, even when I’m naked.
He looks back up at my face, and our eyes connect. “I’ll get the lights. Good night, Brooke.”
I start to walk toward Charlie’s room and look over my shoulder. “Night, Silas.”
When I shut the door to the bedroom, I glance at the bed and see Charlie sleeping with her phone in her hand and my brother’s face filling the screen. He’s also sleeping. These two are crazy.
I can’t imagine Eli and me doing something like that. He wouldn’t want to disrupt his sleep pattern.
I tiptoe to the bathroom and close the door behind me softly so I don’t wake Charlie. I need to get the little makeup I have on off before I climb into bed, or I’ll look like a raccoon in the morning.
Once I’m done in the bathroom, I climb into bed, trying not to wake Charlie, but I must make some kind of noise because I hear my brother say, “Night, B.”
It makes me smile because I miss him, and I know he feels better when Charlie and I are together. He worries about us both since he’s gone.
“Night, Beck.”
I roll to my side and reach for my phone on the nightstand that I plugged in earlier when it died. Not a single message from Eli. With a sigh, I set it back down and try to fall back to sleep. But every time I close my eyes, I see Silas’s blue eyes staring at me.
SILAS
Did I know she was looking at me? I had a feeling she was, and I hoped she was. I was asleep, but when I felt her shift, I woke up completely. I’m a light sleeper, and then when her hand started moving up and down my arm, I had to decide if I wanted to pretend or let her know I was awake.
Brooke Linson. This girl has had me tied up for a while now.
When I first met her, she was still in high school.
Beautiful, but too young. Now, I can’t take my eyes off her.
And every time she comes over to the house, I find reasons to be near her.
Lucky for me, she’s here more often than not, so I get to see her a lot, which isn’t helping my mad crush on her.
Yeah, she has a boyfriend, but I don’t really give a shit. I was serious about what I said to her on the couch. He’s a douche, and he definitely doesn’t deserve her. Not that I do either, but I’d do a damn good job of making her feel like a queen every day.
In the fall, right as we were getting deep into the season, I realized just how much I was attracted to her. She’s more than a pretty face. And she’s smart, which I find incredibly sexy.
It’s funny because her brother is the opposite of her. Beck has been a broody kind of guy for as long as I’ve known him. Almost like he was carrying something heavy he never learned how to set down.
But he’s a different guy with Charlie and Brooke.
Charlie is definitely the calm to his storm. And Brooke seems to keep him steady. He’s very protective of them both, but in a different way with his sister.
Over the past year of knowing Brooke, I’ve watched her in the small, unguarded moments. The way she listens. The way she grounds a room without trying. She carries a quiet strength that doesn’t ask to be noticed, and I don’t think she realizes how rare that is.
Maybe that’s why I did.
I don’t know where that strength comes from, only that it’s there—steady and sure. And somewhere along the way, without meaning to, I started falling for her in the spaces between conversations, in the moments I wasn’t supposed to be looking.
With a sigh, I shift my body and get up from the couch. I turn off the TV, the tree, and make sure the front door is locked before I make my way to my bedroom.
I undress in my room and then head to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
I’m in my boxers and still sporting a semi from waking up, snuggled against Brooke, and maybe I should be a little more cautious since there are females in the house, but Charlie and Brooke are at the other end of the hall, and Bo and Chelsea are either sleeping or still making up for lost time.
It’s pretty quiet now, so I’m guessing I’m in the clear.
When I get back to my room, my mind is awake, so I’ll need to do some reading or something to get back to sleep. Especially because thoughts of Brooke’s curvy body against mine are making it really hard to clear my head.
I slide on my glasses and grab a book from my bag—a novel I’m supposed to be reading for my English class—then pull out my phone and open the audiobook app. I hit play and flip to the page where I left off.
When you struggled to read growing up—when the lines zigzagged and your eyes couldn’t quite keep their place—you learned to use whatever tools you could.
I follow along as the voice pours into my ears, eyes tracking the page.
It should be enough to distract me.
It isn’t.
My mind keeps drifting back to Brooke.
To how a woman who isn’t mine—won’t ever be mine, and honestly shouldn’t be—has somehow taken over every spare corner of my thoughts. I can’t remember the last time someone got under my skin like this.
Frustrated, I toss the book onto the floor and switch my phone to music instead. I let the songs carry me under—music about brown-eyed girls who smell like cupcakes, with lips I’d give anything to kiss.
Yeah …
It’s good to dream.