“I owed some guys some money. From before,waybefore. But I got nervous because I’m not really making any money right now, so I told my mom, my mom told my dad, and it turned into a shit show. But itishandled.”
I rolled my shoulders back as I processed Brooklyn’s story. I only really wanted to know one thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Brooklyn ran a hand down his cheek. “Nat, I don’t know if I’ve made it obvious enough yet, but I really like you. I don’t want you to think I’m this fucked up.”
“I don’t think that at all,” I insisted. “Brooklyn, I trust you, but you need to talk to me if you want this to work.”
I still didn’t even know whatthiswas. We’d already passed the point of no return, but I’d been so caught up in the moment I hadn’t considered what came after.
“You’re right.” Brooklyn nodded. “Listen, everything’s fine now, okay?”
He finally smiled at me in that effortlessly endearing way. He really could have convinced me to do anything when he looked at me like that. He reached up and gently caressed the side of my cheek, and all of the tense, hard edges of our night fell away. It was like the rain had come to extinguish a fire.
“Okay.” I felt myself melt into his touch. “Because I really like you too.”
“God I hope so,” he whispered, leaning over and softly brushing his lips over mine. “You know, what happened the other night, that’s a big deal to me, and I don’t want it to be something that happened and then we forget about it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He smiled and brought his lips back to mine. Even though we’d kissed quite a few times by now, it was as if we were kissing each other for the very first time over and over again. I moved my hands to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as he ran his tongue along the inside of my cheek. He tangled his hands in my hair, and without breaking our embrace, we lay back into the bed.
I felt him everywhere, and the sensory overload consumed me. His hands roamed my body, gentle but eager at the same time, finding my waist and flipping me so I was pinned underneath him. I reached down and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it off of him and tossing it to the floor. He did the same, gingerly tugging my sweater over my head. He smelled like vanilla and suntan lotion, and I was starting to believe that if the perfect summer romance had a smell, that was it.
A sharp knock on the door made us both jump, and in a knee-jerk reaction, I pushed Brooklyn off of me, sending him over the side of the bed and to the floor with a thud. I ignored his groans and jolted upright, patting around on the bedspread for my sweater.
“Brooklyn, I’m coming in,” Stella called from the other side of the door. She swung it open just as I was pulling my sweater back on.
“Hi, Nat.” She gave me a quick smile, either completely oblivious or completely indifferent to what she’d interrupted.
“Hey,” I greeted her with a weary smile.
“What do you want, Stella?” Brooklyn groaned as he stood up, tugging at his shirt, which was clearly inside out.
“You ass, I knew you had my phone charger.” She marched over to the wall beside the bed and yanked a charger out of the outlet, shaking it at Brooklyn. “Mine has electrical tape on it, so I know you stole it.”
“Well I, uh, lost mine, so . . .” He spoke through a grimace. “Thanks for letting me borrow it. Now leave,please.”
Stella turned to leave, but spun back around in the doorway. “Oh, Nat, we’re all going out for my birthday slash Fourth of July next weekend, so obviously would love for you to come. Your sister too. I like her, she’s funny.”
“Sounds great,” I replied. “As long as you promise not to tell her she’s funny to her face, it’ll go to her head.”
Stella grinned and nodded before twirling on her feet and walking out.
“Sorry about that.” Brooklyn gave me an apologetic grin. He put his hand on top of mine. “You’re still gonna make me watch this movie, huh?”
I smirked and elbowed him. “Yes, it’s a cult classic.”
June 30
Hey Dad,
I’m sorry we haven’t caught up in a while. I didn’t mean to go quiet on you, time’s just been moving faster lately. I used to roll my eyes whenever people said “time flies when you’re having fun,” but I get it now. I am having fun. For the most part.
There’s been a lot of small, good moments. Things that don’t sound like much when I write them down—the way the ocean smells driving home from the bookstore, the way Nikki hums when she’s in a good mood again, the way Brooklyn says my name like he’s trying it out every time, to make sure he still likes the way it sounds.
But there’s also this other part. This buzzing, uneasy current under everything. Weird little things I can’t quite name. Sometimes he goes quiet mid-conversation, like his thoughts disappear somewhere I can’t follow. Sometimes I feel like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it’s not mine, it’s his.
My brain keeps trying to warn me something could be wrong. But the key word is could, and my instincts, they say stay. This time it’s different. This time I’m doing it all right.
