Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Avery
T he soft glow of the moon illuminated Brody as he stared out at the sea, looking like a Greek god who'd stumbled straight off Mount Olympus.
Seriously, how did the man make brooding look so damn good?
I stood at the base of the hilltop, my heart trying to wrench itself from my chest as I watched him. Gone was the cocky social media bro, replaced by a man who looked like he was one existential crisis away from writing angsty poetry.
Saltwater breeze whipped my hair into a frenzy, and I realized I was utterly, irrevocably screwed. My feelings for Brody had snuck up on me, and now they were doing a victory dance all over my common sense.
Love? It terrified me more than the thought of spending eternity trapped in a small Greek village with no WiFi. But denying these feelings? That ship had sailed, along with my sanity. Zeus help me.
I trembled as I began to climb the hill, torn between my instinct to flee and my desire to comfort Brody—the poor guy looked like he needed a hug. Or tequila. Possibly both.
But then Brody's thumbs were flying over his phone screen like he was trying to set a world record, and my stomach performed an elaborate sinking maneuver.
I sighed. Another perfectly curated post coming up. Because nothing says “living in the moment” like ignoring the actual moment, right? I could already picture the caption: “Finding myself in Greece #blessed #NoFilter.” Yeah, right. More like #ActuallyTonsOfFilters.
Just as Brody dropped his arm, looking way too pleased with himself, my phone buzzed. I jumped like I'd sat on a sea urchin, fumbling with it like an idiot.
It was a notification from Brody's account. Because of course it was. I braced myself for the usual onslaught of abs on display.
But as I saw the close-up of his face with a real, genuine smile and started reading, my heart began to speed. His post was about real connections and unplanned moments. It was honest. Raw. Definitely not the usual Brody material.
I blinked hard, wondering if I was hallucinating. Nope. The words were still there.
I continued my ascent, my emotions raging harder than a frat party during spring break. Hope and uncertainty battled it out in my head, leaving me dizzy.
My foot slipped on a loose stone, and I let out a squeak that would make a mouse proud.
Fuck.
Brody whirled around, his eyes wide with surprise and vulnerability. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked like a deer caught in headlights. A very attractive deer. With amazing hair.
For a moment, we stood frozen, the weight of heavy silence hanging between us. The white-washed buildings of Mykonos spread out below us. Because obviously, even our emotional crisis had to have a picture-perfect backdrop.
I took a tentative step forward, my voice barely above a whisper as I called out, “Hey.”
The sound seemed to break a spell, and suddenly words were tumbling out of both of us like we were in a verbal vomiting contest.
“Avery, I… I didn't expect to see you here,” Brody stammered, his usual confidence replaced by a raw openness that made my heart ache. And my ovaries nearly explode, if we’re being honest.
“I couldn't sleep,” I admitted, taking another step closer. “I saw you from my window and I just… I needed to see you. Also, there was a suspicious lack of shirtless pics on your Insta today. I got worried.”
We moved closer, drawn together like magnets.
“I'm sorry,” we both blurted out simultaneously, then laughed softly at the synchronicity. Great, now we were finishing each other's sentences. Next thing you know, we'd be wearing matching outfits and calling each other 'schnookums.'
Brody took my hand in his, our fingers intertwining naturally.
“I'm so tired of faking it, Avery,” he said, sounding beat. “Every damn post feels like I'm losing a piece of myself.”
I nodded, afraid to break the spell of his confession.
“My followers expect this crazy-adventurous dude who's got it all figured out,” he went on. “But honestly? I'm scared shitless of letting them down. Of being… boring.”
I snorted. “Boring? Have you seen yourself?”
He laughed, but it sounded off. “Yeah, well.” His eyes met mine, and damn if he didn't look like a lost puppy. “And Jason… fuck, sometimes I feel like I'm crapping all over his memory with this fake bullshit.”
My heart clenched. Jason. The reason Brody had started this whole influencer gig in the first place.
“He wanted to see everything,” Brody continued quietly. “And here I am, seeing it all, but not really living it, you know? Always thinking about the next post. It's fucking exhausting.”
I listened, my chest tight. “You know, the real you? He's pretty awesome too.”
His eyes went a little glassy. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, feeling my face heat up. I’d never been great with heavy feelings. “And I bet Jason would be proud as hell. Not because of your followers, but because you're finally being real.”
“Christ,” Brody said, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to find the meaning of life in my irises.
“I've been so caught up in maintaining this image. I thought it was what I wanted, what I needed to do to honor Jason. But being here with you, Spark… it's made me realize how empty it all is without some other kind of connection.”
I squeezed Brody's hand, surprised by how natural it felt. When was the last time I'd held hands with someone like this? Even with Mark, physical affection had become… perfunctory. Expected, but not really felt.
“I…” I started, then stopped. What could I say? That I understood? Did I?
Brody's confession had cracked something open inside me, like a dam breaking. Suddenly, I was drowning in realizations I'd been avoiding for years.
“I always thought I had it all figured out,” I said slowly, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. “Great job, stable relationship, clear goals. But listening to you… I'm realizing I've been going through the motions for so long, I've forgotten what it’s like to actually feel something.”
The truth of it hit me like a ton of bricks. When was the last time Mark and I had a real conversation? Not about work or bills or what to have for dinner, but about our hopes, our fears, our dreams?
I looked at Brody, really looked at him. His eyes were so open, so honest. When was the last time I'd allowed myself to be that vulnerable with someone?
“This trip, these adventures with you… they've made me feel more alive than I have in years,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And it scares the crap out of me because I didn't even realize how numb I'd become.”
My chest felt tight, like I couldn't get enough air. “I've been so focused on being the perfect girlfriend, the perfect writer, that I forgot to just be… me. And the worst part is I didn't even notice.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “God, I'm a mess. I came on this trip thinking I had it all together, and now I'm realizing I don't know anything at all.”
Brody squeezed my hand, his touch grounding me. “Maybe that's not such a bad thing,” he said softly. “Maybe not knowing is the first step to figuring it all out.”
A comfortable silence fell between us as we processed each other's words. I leaned into Brody, my head resting on his shoulder.
The beauty of Greece stretched out before us, the gentle lapping of waves providing the soundtrack. It was so perfect, I half expected a chorus of singing fish to pop out of the water and start serenading us.
“I've been so stupid,” Brody murmured, his arm wrapping around me like a warm, muscular blanket. “I thought I needed to maintain this larger-than-life persona to be successful, to make a difference. But seeing how you approach your work with such authenticity and passion… it's made me realize there's another way. It's like I've been trying to be a peacock when really, I'm just a… a really attractive pigeon.”
I laughed, lifting my head to look at him, his eyes full of sincerity. Fuck, he was hot, even when he was having an existential crisis.
“Well, you've shown me that sometimes you need to take risks and step out of your comfort zone to truly experience life,” I replied. “Maybe we balance each other. When we work together, when we're just being ourselves, that's when the magic happens.”
“Spark,” Brody said, his voice taking on a serious tone that made my heart do a somersault. “What I feel for you… it's real,” he continued, and I felt my insides turn to goo. “Not some bullshit act or game. You've seen the real me, neuroses and all, and you're still here.”
I blinked back tears, probably looking like a raccoon with all the mascara running down my face. But who gave a flying fuck about makeup when this Greek god of a man was laying his heart bare?
“Brody,” I whispered, reaching up to grab his face. His stubble scratched my palm, sending a jolt straight to my core.
“I feel the same way,” I said, my voice husky. “You've knocked down all my walls, and trust me, those fuckers were built to last. We're talking Fort Knox. And as terrifying as it is, I don’t think I would have it any other way. You've turned my world upside down, and I kind of love it.”
Brody leaned in, his forehead resting against mine.
“So, where do we go from here?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and uncertainty. It was like watching a puppy try to navigate a slippery floor—adorable, slightly clumsy, and impossible not to love.
I felt a smile tugging at my lips, a lightness in my chest that I hadn't felt in weeks, despite the breathtaking scenery we'd encountered.
“Forward,” I said simply, channeling my inner fortune cookie. “Together. No more hiding, no more pretending. Just us, being real, sharing our adventures with the world in our own way. Think 'Bonnie and Clyde' meets 'Travel Channel,' but with less robbing and more gyros.”
I paused, a thought hitting me like a runaway souvlaki cart. “Although, fair warning: I’ve been told my real self snores like a congested rhinoceros. Still want in?”
Brody's laugh rumbled through his chest, making my insides do the macarena. “Bring it on, Spark. I've got a drool problem, and I'm pretty sure I sleepwalk. We can be hot messes together.”
As we stood together on the hilltop, our hearts laid all the way out, a sense of peace settled.
Brody took my hand, a mischievous glint in his eye that made me simultaneously excited and terrified. He led me toward the edge of the hill overlooking the sea, and for a hot second, I wondered if this was his elaborate plan to get rid of me. Death by romantic clifftop tumble.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice husky and low. It was the kind of voice that could make reading a phone book sound sexy.
With a smile that probably made me look like a love-struck idiot (which, let's face it, I totally was), I nodded.
“Always.”