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"Yeah, likewise," I tell him, wondering what the hell I'm saying.
Brody walks up to me and opens his arms for a hug. I can't help but look around in search of watchful eyes. It's just a hug, but why does he feel the need to hug me?
I don't stop the embrace, but I don't participate either. He holds me tightly. "I'm honestly sorry for what you're going through. I didn't mean to be a jerk to you in the school. I'm protective of Parker."
"I understand," I tell him.
"Maybe I'll see you around sometime," he continues.
I shrug rather than respond. "If you lose the beard, maybe." It was a joke, but in all seriousness, that thing is scratching the hell out of my neck as he continues to hug me for this awkwardly long minute.
"My beard?" he says, pulling away as if I made a derogatory comment. He runs his fingers down the side of his facial hair and my lip perks into a snarl. It's gross. I hate thick beards.
"It's not the best look," I tell him.
"On the contrary, it is the best look," he argues.
"Okay," I respond, ending the argument.
"The single mom's club at the school has no complaints about it," he says with a wink.
"Well, evidently, there is plenty for you to choose from."
"This is going to sound like an asshole comment, but I can hardly handle my daughter, never mind getting involved with someone who has an additional kid. You know?"
As a matter of fact, I do know. "That makes sense. You have a tough time with Hannah?" I ask, not that it's any of my business.
Brody runs his hand up the back of his head. "Goddamn, that girl has it out for me. I don't know if it's this tween thing or what, but her attitude—I sometimes think she might suffocate me in my sleep."
His statement earns a short laugh from me. "I like her style. Never underestimate a tough girl."
Brody shakes his head. "Yeah, I guess."
"Why are you doing all his PTA stuff if it's so hard to be a dad?" I question.
"To torture her back. She wants to give me hell every minute she's awake, so I'll be as involved in her life as I can. It's payback until she wants to be nice to me again. I miss my sweet little girl."
"I think that's a fair game," I tell him.
"I'm probably screwing it all up, but whatever. Her mother is a head case, so it's up to me to keep her on the straight and narrow."
I look back at my Jeep, making sure Parker isn't trying to get my attention. "I should probably warm up the car," I tell him.
"Yeah, same," he says.
"Well, if I see you, I'll pretend like you don't exist," he says.
"That would be for the best," I agree.
Brody steps away to walk toward his truck. "Just out of curiosity, why would that be for the best?"
I don't have a logical answer to this dumb question. A dark thought rolls through my mind, though, and I make my way over to where he's standing. We are away from the overhead lamp and in the blind-spot of our two vehicles. "Because I'm good at making things very uncomfortable," I tell him.
Brody tilts his head to the side with a look of question. "I'm not following," he says. "I don't get uncomfortable easily." He doesn't seem too sure of himself when he says this.
I look around once more to make sure no one is watching. I place my hand on his burly chest and clench his shirt into my fist. "I've learned a lot since our seven-minute closet game way back when Brody. I press up on my toes and bring my lips a half-inch from his. "The game of making a man uncomfortable is one I enjoy winning." I brush my lips against his and drag the tip of my tongue along his bottom lip.
Brody's hand loops around my back and pulls me in against him. "Don't assume you'll win a game with an opponent who has perfected his skills over the years," he mutters near my mouth. "Got it?"
