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“Hey.” I lean forward. “Everything okay?”
He blinks, meeting my eyes. “Yeah. Fine. Just a long day.” He puts a hand on my thigh. I can feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of my yoga pants. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“That was fast.” I put my plate on the coffee table beside his. “You giving me a key.”
His eyes bounce between mine. “I want you here. Every night. We’ll figure out the rest.”
My heart skips a beat. Words bubble up inside me. Words I’m not sure I’m ready to say, or that he’s ready to hear. I’m terrified to let my guard down.
I’m terrified to be honest with Brooks and with myself about how I’m feeling. It’s all so overwhelming.
“I’ve never felt like this about anyone, Brooks,” I say, choosing my words carefully. My pulse pounds. “You said you needed to be careful with me. I hope you meant that, because . . .”
I don’t want to get destroyed.
Brooks gets this pained look on his face. “I meant every fucking word, sweetheart.”
The intensity of his reply makes my stomach seize.
“Tell me.” I set down my chopsticks. “What’s going on with you. I know something’s up.”
Hand still on my thigh, his eyes toggle between mine for a long beat. “My Dad came to my desk today and threatened to kick Drury Lane out of A&T’s building if I don’t stop seeing you.”
Everything inside me plummets. “He did what?”
“Yup. Our little ‘altercation’ even ended up on Wall Street Bathroom.”
“Oh God.”
“I’ll handle him.”
“I don’t even know where to start with that one.” I blink. There’s a sharp, unpleasant feeling in my throat. “What can I do? He really hates me that much?”
Brooks gives my leg a firm squeeze. “He doesn’t hate you. He hates not being able to control me. I promise, Greer, I’m not going to let him hurt you. I’ll figure this out.”
“Let me help. George has mentioned your dad. He’s a powerful guy, right?”
Brooks exhales noisily. “I’ll think of something.”
“Let me help.”
“Greer—”
“I don’t want him hurting you, either. You’ve endured enough pain as it is.”
“I don’t want you being scared.”
I search his eyes. “I’m terrified. But not because of your dad.”
He scrunches his brow. “What does that mean? You feel okay?”
“I’m okay.”
So into you it hurts. But otherwise okay.
My eyes sting. I close them, pulse thundering. I knew pairing off with Brooks wouldn’t be simple. But I had no idea how complicated it would get.
“Hey.” Brooks squeezes my thigh again. “Look at me.”
“I can’t—”
“Open your eyes and look at me. Right now.”
Electricity bolts up my spine at the authoritative edge of his command. I do as he tells me, and his eyes—they’re so blue in this light, depthless, dark, determined—immediately lock on mine.
“I’m not perfect, sweetheart. And I’m not the kind of man who makes promises often, because when I promise someone something, I always come through.”
“I get that, but—”
“Listen. I don’t make promises often, but I am going to make one to you. I promise you, Greer, I’ll protect you—protect us—and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You understand me?”
I can only stare at him, transfixed by the silent roar inside his words. His eyes.
Talk about overwhelming. His desire for us, for me, has my heart swooping inside my chest. The room, the couch, it all swoops too, making me feel unsteady and giddy and violently joyful all at once.
“I understand,” I manage.
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Good. Now let me have you for dessert.”
I let out a breathy little laugh. “Not before we have actual dessert.” I get up and grab our plates with hands that shake. “I brought our cupcake of the month. It’s a riff on my most favorite combo ever, peanut butter and milk chocolate, topped with a Reese’s peanut butter cup.”
“I fucking love peanut butter and chocolate together.”
I fucking love you.
There they are. The words I haven’t let myself think, much less say aloud. I have no idea if Brooks feels the same way I do. But I’m brimming with feelings for this man.
I’m in love with him. I can’t pinpoint when it happened, exactly. Maybe it’s slowly been happening for years now, or maybe it happened the moment he told me to make myself heard—implying that I’m worth hearing.
That I deserve good things like happiness and great sex and a guy who treats me like gold.
That I shouldn’t only like myself, I should love myself too.
Really, how could I not fall for Brooks?
In the kitchen, we peel the wrappers off our cupcakes. Brooks takes a massive bite. I wait for the crease in his forehead to disappear. It doesn’t, but he offers me a quirk of his lips, chocolate cake crumbs spilling out of his mouth.
“Wow,” he says. “That’s just right.”
I cup my hand to catch the crumbs, laughing. “The Reese’s people know what’s up.”
