Chapter 5 Brooke
Brooke
Ihave successfully gone almost the entire first day in Grand Oaks without running into Drew, and I haven't decided yet if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Part of me is dying to see him. I want to know if he'd even recognize me after all this time—and if my body would remember him in person the same way it does when I see him on TV.
The other part of me, though, is happy to avoid the situation altogether. I'm not sure what would be worse—the two of us gravitating toward each other like we did ten months ago or the illusion of the connection I thought we had burning to the ground.
It helps that Al, Cooper, and I have gotten to do our own thing. McHottie flew with the boys and they had a team meeting this afternoon. So, once we got to Grand Oaks, we decided to explore a little before checking into our hotel.
This town is adorable. It's almost the same size as Golden City, but it gives off a much cozier vibe.
There's a small park in the center with walking paths and a water fountain where people throw their coins, and benches on nearly every street.
There's a dog park and a flourishing community garden, and the light poles are adorned with banners.
Each one contains the names and faces of one citizen who went off and changed their little corner of the world—business owners, authors, a cellist in the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra.
The main strip is lined with more indie shops and small boutiques than name brand stores, and all the food places seem more Mom and Pop than franchise business.
There's a bakery we stopped in for lattes and cinnamon buns when we first arrived that was decorated with twinkle lights and hanging plants.
And then there was the pizza place.
Al and Coop both raved about it on the car ride here, but damn, that shit was good.
The restaurant itself was awesome—the perfect combination of modern and traditional.
There were black and white tiled floors, red leather chairs, and pictures of Italian mobsters framed on the walls.
Not to mention Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome throwing pizzas behind the counter.
My first reaction was that I'd let his beard do unspeakable things to my inner thighs, but then future-Brooke showed up, waving her red flag and cockblocking me like the responsible grown-up she's trying to become.
All in all, our exploration of the town was great. But as late afternoon approached, Cooper and Alex were both itching to get to the hotel to see their boys.
"So, what time is everyone leaving me on my own?" I ask, now laying back on Alex and Levi's king-size bed, flipping through the room service menu.
My best friend pauses her hand mid-swipe of her lashes before sticking her mascara wand back into the tube and finding me in the reflection of the mirror on the wall.
"I'm sorry you'll be on your own tonight.
You're welcome to join me and Levi. I didn't realize the assistant coaches would invite Coop to dinner with them. "
"Wow, Mom, thanks a lot," Cooper chimes in, glancing up from his phone at the foot of the bed where he's been watching highlights from some other games this week.
Alex spins around and parts her lips to explain, but he peers up and smirks at her. She physically settles, her shoulders dropping back down from her ears as she turns to me and sits back on the desk. "Levi and I are just going to the hotel restaurant. You should come."
Dropping my chin, I raise one eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest, remembering exactly what went down in that restaurant's bathroom last time Alex and Levi were here.
Not to mention what happened back in his hotel room afterwards.
I peek over at Cooper, who looks completely invested in his screen, but at the ripe age of thirteen, he's always listening.
Glancing back at Al, it's clear from the color of her cheeks that she can read my mind.
"I think I'll let you and your husband enjoy your dinner, but thanks.
" She tries to hide her smile as I continue.
"I'm actually kind of excited. This is the first night I've had off in a while.
I'll probably just hang out and wait for Cooper to come back so we can order one of every dessert on the menu and charge it to the Flames' account. "
Alex and I look at Cooper, who shrugs without glancing up from his phone. "Works for me," he says.
We both laugh as Al turns back toward the mirror. "What about dinner?"
Sitting up against the headboard, I cross one foot over the other. "Al, don't worry about me. I can order that too, or run out and grab something. I'm here to babysit, remember?" I wink at Alex right before Coop's head snaps back in my direction.
The look he gives me is borderline feral as I move the tip of my foot toward him. "I'm kidding," I say as I smack my shoe against his thigh. "I can't wait to watch Zombie Tsunami."
Now, it's Alex's head that spins around. "Isn't that rated R?"
Swinging my legs to the side of the bed, I hop off the mattress. "Maybe," I say, striding toward her. With my back to Cooper, I lean in to whisper. "But I'm pretty sure whatever you and Coach McHottie will be doing in your room would be rated worse than that."
Her whole chest lights up pink as she tries to fake devastation, but the second our eyes meet, we both completely lose it.
"You're probably right," she says softly.
Grabbing my purse from the desk, I toss it over my shoulder. "Oh, I know I am. Come on, Coop. Let's head to our room and let your mom finish getting ready."
I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tight. "Have fun tonight. We'll see you at breakfast in the morning."
She tightens our embrace. "Thanks again for doing this."
Cooper steps up behind me, and I move toward the door to let him hug his mom goodbye. "You listen to Aunt Brooke," Alex says sternly.
Cooper rolls his eyes teasingly. "Have fun, Mom. Tell Coach we have a big game tomorrow. I want you both home at a decent hour.”
Alex and I shoot each other a cocked brow. Cooper strolls past me and walks right out the door.
Flicking off the TV after only half an episode of Food Truck Wars, I decide I'm starving. This is why I can't watch shows like this. Especially when I'm not at my apartment with showtime snacks readily available.
Cooper left about a half hour ago to meet up with Erik and Gavin, the Flames' assistant coaches.
Tonight the team is doing their own thing for dinner, so they decided to try out a restaurant downtown.
With Levi out with Alex, there was room at their table, and when they found out Cooper was coming, they insisted that he join them.
It's sweet how they've bonded with Coop since his spotlight for the Spark the Flame program.
He spent about a month interacting with them a few times a week—joining them on the bench and at practices, even attending meetings and a coaches breakfast. And now, with Alex and Levi married, they see each other more than ever.
All I asked was that they have Coop back to our hotel room in time to watch the new zombie movie and fall asleep sick to our stomachs on dessert.
My nephew may be getting older, but he's still one of my favorite people to hangout with.
They made no promises, but if they know what's good for them, they won't come between me and movie night with Coop or some molten lava cake.
Now, though, I'm on my own for dinner. I contemplate ordering room service and eating a toasted veggie panini, fries, and a carton of ranch in bed—this is as close to a vacation as I've gotten in a while, and I might as well indulge.
But it's also my first time in a five-star hotel and my one—or at least safest—opportunity to explore it.
Crawling off the mattress, I walk the four feet it takes to get to the bathroom.
I tousle my brunette, collarbone-length hair and use my fingertips to fluff it at my roots.
Leaning onto the white and gray quartz countertop, I bring my face just inches from the glass and spin my thin gold nose ring so the spot where the metal clamps together is hidden underneath.
This was my most recent addition to my look.
Every once in a while I get the itch to go under the needle, either piercing or ink.
I have a dozen tattoos stickered on my body.
Nothing overly big or extravagant, but enough that you can see at least a few unless I’m dressed for a blizzard—another thing about me that drives my mother crazy.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s really the permanent markings on my skin that she can’t stand or the idea that it’s the only thing I’ve really committed to in life.
Part of me would like to stay single forever if not just to watch her squirm.
But then I think about why I’m here alone and my best friend is off doing God knows what with the man that she loves, and I'm reminded that driving her nuts isn't worth it.
Barely.
Reaching over, I flip on the light to check my makeup more closely.
The room is immediately illuminated in an offensive brightness that most hotel restrooms offer, but because this one is fancy, there aren't just fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling.
The mirror is backlit by an LED strip that erases every shadow and ensures there is no running from fine lines or wrinkles.
And it leaves me feeling way too exposed.
I tilt my chin from side to side, then lean in closer, before once again pulling away from my reflection. I'm no witch, but man. Drew's now not the only thing I'll be hiding from in this hotel. Smacking down the switch, I use just the light from the main room to check my reflection. Much better.
Maybe it's the idea that I'm currently hiding away from a twenty-five-year-old. Or maybe it's my mom's voice that seems to live inside my head, reminding me my clock is ticking. But right now, I feel every bit of thirty-one.
It's then that I decide a seat at a bar that's not The Pub's and a cocktail I didn't mix is calling my name.
Maybe there will be an older single guy there sipping a scotch.
A little flirting never hurt, and there's no temptation when I'm coming back to Cooper.
But nothing says young and vibrant like someone buying you a drink.
And who knows, maybe there's a boyfriend waiting there for me.
Digging through my suitcase, I grab my favorite leather jacket and slip it on over the cropped gray t-shirt I’ve been lounging in.
I never changed out of jeans, but these faded Levi’s are more comfortable than any pair of leggings.
So, I tug on the high waist, slip my feet into my combat boots, and head for the door.
Single and starving. Party of one.