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I blinked, trying to stop the tears from sliding down my cheeks, from blurring my eyes, but they wouldn’t abate. Just like the pain in my chest, this agony refused to abate, slicing at me over and over again.
“Sam, do you need to talk it out or cry?” they asked in the same calm tone. “Either way, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Oh fuck.
My chest convulsed. They hadn’t realized how badly I needed to hear that—that I wasn’t completely fucking alone in this world. I looked back at Brooks, who stared at me, the understanding clear in their green eyes.
Maybe they did know.
I sucked in an inhale, the breath unsteady as tears leaked down my face. Brooks wrapped their arms a little tighter around me, and I leaned against them like I’d lost all the bones in my body. Words weren’t rising to my lips yet, no matter how much I wanted to tell someone what had happened, to feel like I hadn’t lost everything—all over again.
I stared at the cement floor, the mottled surface speckled with my tears. Brooks’s warmth filtered through me, their arms in a steady lock around me, like a hold in a fight, but I didn’t want to escape. I just wanted something to go right, for once.
Slowly the tears began to dry on my cheeks, sticky like paste. My breaths came in a little easier, albeit shaky.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Brooks,” I murmured, my voice raw.
“None of the apologizing bullshit.” They loosened their grasp slightly.
I pulled the rest of the way out of their grip and sat on the floor facing them. The cement was cool on my ass, grounding me in a way I needed. I tugged my knees to my chest, sucking back the shuddery breaths that exploded out from me in the wake of my breakdown. Shame washed over me, but Brooks wasn’t looking at me with disgust—just a steady kindness I didn’t deserve.
“Just saw my sister,” I whispered, staring down at my scuffed sneakers with their ratty laces.
“Shit, Taylor,” Brooks said. A moment later, their shoe nudged against mine, and a bubble of warmth burst inside me at the simple gesture. There was a reason I’d come here rather than heading to my apartment. Because these people, this place? This was home.
“Yeah, the hookup I got involved with? My sister’s best friend.” I tugged at the end of my ponytail, realizing now that my tank top was on inside out. I’d been in such a rush to get out of Ames’s apartment I hadn’t been aware of what the fuck I put on my body or how. “We were in her apartment, and Nina showed up, and…”
“That sucks” was all Brooks said, but honestly, it was all I needed.
My relationship with Ames had been destined to end in heartbreak. I’d known that from the start, yet I’d been so enthralled by our connection, so smitten with her, how she looked at and listened to me that I couldn’t help but fall.
“I don’t even know where we stand,” I admitted out loud, the realization sending a shudder through me. “I just ran out of there in a blind fucking panic.”
“When was the last time you saw your sister?” Brooks asked, sitting across from me, all casual, like I hadn’t been crying my eyes out a second ago.
“Ten years ago. I’d tried to call her after my parents cut me out, but she’d severed ties too.”
“I’m not saying anything about your sister, because she clearly made her own bed, but when you’re feeling calmer, would it help to talk to your not-quite-hookup?”
I huffed out a breath and hugged my knees tighter to my chest. They were speaking reason, which wasn’t what swilled through my veins. Another shuddery breath escaped me. “I’m not sure I have the strength to.”
Brooks snorted and delivered a pointed look at me. “Samantha Taylor, you’re one of the strongest women I’ve met. I’ve watched you pull yourself up from nothing, and if this relationship with her crumbles, you’ll still have everything you built. You’ll still have all of us.”
My eyes watered again, and I resisted the urge to break down sobbing for the second time today.
“My one client canceled, so I’ve got a quick break,” Brooks said. “Want to go grab a coffee?”
“Ugh.” I wiped at my puffy eyes. “Everyone’s going to know I was bawling my eyes out.”
“I could punch you a little—black eyes instead?” Brooks said dryly.
“Thanks, asshole,” I said, lifting my middle finger. Still, the slightest bit of lightness tugged at my shoulders. Maybe getting some coffee would clear my head. Not enough to go back to Ames’s apartment but enough to stop losing my shit in the storage room of Knockout.
“Anytime.” Brooks rose to their feet. They reached out and offered a hand. I took it, the warm clasp grounding. I pushed myself up, my legs shaky and the cement chill clinging to my body. My eyes felt swollen as fuck. If only I had brought a pair of shades or some shit—anything to hide my puffy eyes when I walked through the gym.
“Wait, can we go through the back exit they use for loading?” I asked.
Brooks lifted a brow. “You really don’t want everyone to see you, do you?”
