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Fat chance.
I’d always hated modeling. I’m too short and boyish for anyone to actually want me in a dress or tank top or anything sexy, so instead I stand there grinning like an idiot with myTeam-USA gear and a gold medal hanging around my neck. “No thanks.” I reply firmly, closing the dishwasher and going to wash my hands. “I’m not much of a model.”
Emmett laughs. “Are you kidding? You’re way prettier than the guy we have doing it now. Let me give you my card, you can text me and-“
“She said she’s not interested.” Brooks’ cool voice cuts over Emmett’s chatter and we both look around to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes narrowed on the man beside me.
I’m not a guy, but I do have two brothers and an egomaniac father, so I know a show of“my balls are bigger than yours”when I see one.
Emmett laughs determinately, as if convincing himself that Brooks is making a joke will keep him from getting punched in the face. “She’s a friend of mine, man. Just trying to help her out.”
When neither Brooks or I respond to that, he slides away from the counter and grabs his coat and hat off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m going to take off. You want a ride, Bay?”
“Sure.” My brother agrees, walking into the kitchen, looking far away and a little sad. He’s been quiet all day, and I feel guilty again for the words I spat at him the day of my accident. I’d apologized in the hospital, and we’d made up, but I know I’d poured salt in a very real wound. He's now the only non-Olympian in the family.
I also know he loves it so much more than Lake and I do.
My chest aching for my big brother, I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist. “I love you.” I tell him gently and he squeezes me back.
“I love you too, DJ.” He pulls back, squeezing the tops of my arms affectionately. “I’m seriously alright, don’t worry aboutme.” He glances over my shoulder at where I know Brooks is standing. “Take good care of my sister, yeah?”
Brooks’ voice is strained when he agrees. “Yeah. I’ll take good care of your sister.”
Chapter Seven
Brooks
It’s still dark outside when I wake, disoriented. Blinking at the ceiling, I try to understand what startled me from what must have been a dead sleep, when I hear it. Across the hall, through two closed doors, a desperate cry.
As suddenly as if I’d been doused in ice cold water, I’m on my feet. Wrenching open my door I cross the landing in three steps to Delta’s door just as another cry shatters the silence of the house. I don’t knock or even hesitate before pushing inside.
Inside, the room is lit only by the first traces of hazy morning sunlight through the blinds. On the bed, Delta thrashes, her legs tangled in the sheets, sweet face contorted in fear.
“Delta.” I sink down at the edge of the bed, heart thundering in my chest. Her skin is clammy as I smooth back her hair from her forehead, trying to gently wake her from her nightmare. “Delta, sweetheart-“
“No.” She cries, thrashing away from me. “No, please-“
To hell with gentle. “Delta!” I shake her a little, gripping her shoulders.
“It hurts.” She whimpers, tears leaking from beneath her closed eyes. “Brooks!“
The sound of my name on her lips breaks me. I slide onto the bed beside her, lifting her back so she’s sitting up limply. “Delta. You’re dreaming.” I choke desperately, feeling as terrified as if it was me having this dream. “It’s just a dream.”
Her eyes are moving rapidly beneath their lids and, to my relief, start to flutter.
“Hey.” I smooth back her hair again. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
“Brooks.” She mutters again and, finally, her eyes open.
“I’m here.” I gather her up against my chest, both of us breathing unevenly. “Everything’s alright. It was a nightmare, Delta.”
She trembles against me, her eyes wide and unblinking in the darkness. After a long moment she finally seems to jerk herself from whatever was lingering from the nightmare and looks down at the sheets. “I’m sorry, Brooks. For waking you. I don’t usually-“
“This happens often?” I hiss in horror. I feel sick thinking of myself sleeping peacefully just across the hall every night while Delta suffers alone through whatever that was.
She rubs her hands over her face, not looking at me. “I’m fine. Seriously.”
I open my mouth to begin a speech on therapy and sleep clinics but close it just as quickly as Delta throws me a tired, warning look over her shoulder.
