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“You know what?” I pointedly shut my notebook. “We can work after we get back or during dinner or something. We’re only in Chicago until tomorrow afternoon, so we may as well see the city. Do it up right.”
Do it up right? I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve never said something like that before in my life.
Brooke’s smile is a million watts and a million more times worth it. When she smiles or laughs, it transforms her whole face from something interesting to something that takes the air right out of your fucking lungs. It makes sense why Netflix wanted to do the tour with her—whether she knows it or not, she’s enchanting.
“Yes!” She fist-pumps the air and does a little jig of a dance in the aisle of the motor home. “That’s the spirit! You know, they say to write what you know, and in order to know, you have to get out there and do! So, let’s do, Chase Dawson. Let’s do!”
“Do the Dew?” I ask through a teasing grin.
“Do the Dew!” she agrees excitedly, following it up with one more fist pump.
“Do you like Mountain Dew?”
“I do not!” she yells.
A chuckle starts in my chest and makes its way up my throat easily. “You’re a lot of fun, Brooke, you know that?”
“I don’t get out a lot, but I do keep myself and Benji highly entertained, so hearing the news from you isn’t a huge surprise.”
Benji lets out a little bark at the sound of his name and comes trotting out from the back bedroom with his service vest intact.
And I rise to my feet, the entire time my eyes taking in the smiling enigma that is Brooke Baker.
Man, I like her confidence. I like her playfulness. Truth be told, I like that my changing my stance on work and agreeing to go exploring in Chicago was all it took to make her feel this way.
But beyond all that, I like Brooke. And if I considered my feelings for anything longer than a second, I think I might realize I like her a little too much.
Brooke
I come out of the bathroom, final pre-outing pee accomplished and teeth brushed.
Benji is all set to go in his service dog vest, and Chase is packing up the manuscript into a binder and placing it back inside his canvas bag in the kitchenette booth. At a glance, my long-forgotten leather backpack on the other side of the table gives me the middle finger.
Man, I really am a procrastinating fool. The reality is, I’m going to have to make time to work on Accidental Attachment eventually. The deadline is coming, and believe it or not, the work will not do itself.
But not today. Today, I’ve already got a whole other thing in motion. Not even Dolly’s “9 to 5” could motivate me to sit down and stare at a computer screen rather than going out and exploring the city of Chicago right now.
“I’ll call an Uber,” Chase offers, and I wince a little.
“Yeah, see, about that…”
“What?” He laughs with a shake of his head. “You already called one?”
“Well, kind of.” I tilt my head from side to side like a Valley girl. “I mean, I might’ve already called an Uber before I even came out. I didn’t want to waste any time, you know, waiting until I could ask you and get an answer and such.” He guffaws, and I rush on. “I totally would have canceled it if you’d said no, though!”
“Of course.”
“I would have!” I gesture wildly with two hands. “The car was coming from downtown, and it was going to take a while to get here, and I didn’t want to waste any of our time, so that we can get back here early enough and still be able to work.”
I’m spitballing lies like a stand-up comedian doing crowd work, but if there was ever a time for the “whatever it takes” motto, this is it. I ain’t about that “I have a job” life today.
“Oh, I believe you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Then what’s that face about?”
“What face?”
“The one you’re making that no human as hot as you has ever made before!” I snap, getting impatient. “Your brow is overly furrowed, Dawson, and it’s obvious.”
“You think I’m hot?”
My heartbeat hits the shifter and revs my rhythm up to sixth gear. Do I think he’s hot? Pfft. That’s like asking if pigs like to roll around in shit.
“Oh, come on,” I grumble. “You know you’re hot, and you’re stalling. What are you making the face about?”
“I guess I’m just girding my loins for whatever you get me into today.”
I chortle. “Trust me, I’m not a wild woman. We’re going to get into some deep-dish pizza, at best. No hardened prison stays or the like in our future, pinkie promise.” I hold out my most delicate finger, and Chase considers it for a long second while Benji crowds me.
