Chapter 9 #4
“Babies are down,” Tyler says, coming downstairs to plant a soft kiss on Brooklyn's temple as he reaches for the monitor. “You girls have fun.” He winks, “and make sure you send my wife upstairs drunk later.”
“Hey,” Brooklyn jumps as he swats her ass playfully. “Easy Slade, that’s how we ended up with those two.” She points toward the stairs where Tyler is headed.
“Oh, but it was a helluva time making them.” He laughs, disappearing upstairs.
“Okay.” Brooklyn slides into the chair across from me, eyes narrowing with that lawyer-turned-mom precision that could make a grown man sweat. “You look different.”
Amelia nods, smirking. “She’s glowing. Like… post-vacation, post-orgasm glowing.”
I choke on my wine, coughing into my napkin. “Oh my God.”
Brooklyn grins. “She’s right, isn't she? Look at her. She’s been smiling since she walked in. Hair down, skin all dewy, eyes sparkly. Spill it, Slade.”
“I’m fine,” I say, too quickly. “Just… been a good week. Work’s been calm.”
Amelia laughs softly. “Honey, you’re many things, but calm isn’t one of them. Start talking.”
I last exactly three seconds before the words tumble out. “Fine. We hooked up.”
They both freeze. Brooklyn’s eyes go wide. Amelia’s lips part. “Scotty?” she asks, though she already knows.
I nod, biting my lip. “It just… happened.”
Brooklyn gasps dramatically. “Oh my God, Adrienne. Finally.”
Amelia leans forward, slower, more cautious. “When you say hooked up, do you mean…?”
“Everything,” I admit, heat crawling up my neck. “All of it. And before you ask, it wasn’t just sex, okay? We laughed for hours after. It wasn’t awkward or rushed or weird. It was… easy. Like we’d been circling each other for so long, we finally stopped fighting it.”
Brooklyn covers her mouth, trying not to squeal. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. How did it start? Did you make the first move or did he?”
“Brook,” Amelia warns gently, though she’s smiling too. “Let her finish before we start the inquisition.”
I lean back, swirling my wine, already feeling the judgment from Amelia building.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. It wasn’t some wild mistake or rebound thing that I regret.
I don’t know. It felt different. He was so…
” My throat tightens. “Gentle at first, making sure I was comfortable. And funny. He kept making me laugh, even when we were—” I break off, laughing into my glass. “God, I can’t even say it out loud.”
Brooklyn fans herself dramatically. “No, please do.”
Amelia hides a smile. “Okay, but slow down. You and Scotty…”
I groan. “Here it comes.”
“You know we love him. He’s a great guy and a great friend. But he’s also had his fair share of… company.”
Brooklyn points her glass toward Amelia. “A fair point, but in her defense, we have told her this before.”
I bristle before I can stop myself. “I know his past. I’m not na?ve. Brooklyn’s right.”
“Didn’t say you were,” Amelia says gently. “But it’s worth remembering. He’s charming, he’s fun, and he’s good at making people feel special. That’s part of why everyone likes him.”
Something in my chest tightens, and as much as I love the fact that Amelia doesn’t want to see me get hurt, would it kill her to just join in on the moment and be happy for me? “You think that’s what this is? That I’m just another one of the women he makes feel special in his bed?”
“No, that’s not what I said. You’re getting defensive.” Amelia’s voice softens further. “I know he does care about you, I don’t doubt that. But I also think you’ve always seen a version of him no one else gets to. That’s dangerous territory because it makes you really vulnerable to getting hurt.”
Brooklyn nods, more cautious now. “She’s right, babe. I mean, we all love Scotty, but he’s not exactly known for commitment. He’s the kind of guy who lives day to day. You’re… not. I think what Amelia is saying, what we’re both saying, is, don’t try to read more into this than it is.”
I push back from the table, pacing toward the window. Outside, the porch light glows softly across the yard, and I try to swallow the sting in my throat. “I know that, okay? I’m not blind. But he’s different now. He’s grown up. And I’m not trying to make this something it isn’t.”
Brooklyn tilts her head. “Aren’t you?”
“No.” I turn back, forcing a laugh that sounds too thin.
Panic clutches at my chest. I thought I was keeping an arm’s length from this whole thing, but the way they’re looking at me right now, I’m starting to think I might be in way over my head.
“We’re just… friends who hooked up. Having fun. That’s it.”
Amelia’s brow lifts. “Friends who hooked up?”
“Yes,” I insist, even though the words scrape against my chest. “It’s not complicated unless I make it complicated. I know what he is, and I’m fine with that.”
Brooklyn’s eyes soften. “You’re sure?”
No. “Yes.”
The room falls quiet for a beat. Then Amelia smiles, gentle and real, like a small weight has just been lifted from her shoulders. “Well, we both said our peace, and you seem to know what you want. So, if you’re happy, then we’re happy.”
Brooklyn lifts her glass in a mock toast. “To reckless choices and hot mechanics.”
I clink mine against theirs, laughing, even though it feels a little hollow. “To bad decisions, good memories, and toe-curling orgasms.”
“Speaking of,” Brooklyn giggles, “tell us everything.”
But later, when the laughter fades and the conversation drifts to work and toddlers and Amelia’s new wine label, I can’t stop the quiet ache pressing behind my ribs. Because they mean well, they always do, but their words replay in my head like a warning.
I drive home with the windows down, the cool night air rushing through my hair.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That they’re just being protective.
That they don’t see the Scotty I see; the one who listens without judgment when I rant about the cage I’ve built around myself, who slows down when I’m seconds from panicking and talks me off a ledge, who makes me laugh until my sides ache when all I want to do is cry.
But when I crawl into bed and see his face behind my closed eyelids, I can’t lie to myself. I want more. And I’m terrified he doesn’t.