FOUR
brOOKS
As we step into the elevator in our building, Sara suggests we hang in my apartment rather than hers.
I’m surprised by the request. I thought she’d be exhausted. She was up late last night, and the insanity that occurred tonight at Beckett’s house even had Finn and the puppy passing out early. And all of that aside, we never go to my apartment. We always hang in hers. And I’m normally the one inviting myself over.
So I’m a little thrown. Especially when she ducks her chin and tucks a strand of hair that’s escaped her ponytail as she asks, like she’s suddenly shy around me.
“You want to pick a movie?” I drop my keys into the bowl by the door and head to the kitchen to grab drinks. A Powerade for me because I need to hydrate for practice tomorrow, and a bottle of water along with a glass of red wine for Sara because she likes to have one before bed.
“Um, let’s get another episode of the Creek in,” she says, tugging at the blue Bolts blanket I leave draped over the back of the couch just for her. The woman is always cold.
I settle beside her and hold both the water and the wine out to her. Unsurprisingly, she grabs for the wine with both hands.
With a chuckle, I set the water on the table in front of us. “Make sure you drink that before bed, or you’ll have a headache tomorrow.”
“Whatever you say, Brookie.” She pulls her legs up under her and gives me a wicked grin.
Blowing a breath out through my nose, I grit my teeth. When she talks like that, I want to pull her over my lap and spank that teasing smile right off her lips.
But I’m the good boy, so I push those thoughts out of my mind and stretch my legs out on the ottoman in front of me, crossing one ankle over the other, while she starts up the teenage drama. “Remind me of what happened during the last episode.”
It’s been over a week since the last time we watched this show. She’s been on a romantic comedy kick lately.
“It was the one where Pacey bought her the damn wall. God, I just love him. It was so obvious they were always endgame.”
I let out a big sigh and drop my head back. “Sar, if you want me to watch the show, you can’t keep telling me what happens in the last episode.”
She sips her wine unapologetically, her eyes dancing. “I don’t understand how you never watched this. It’s insane to me.”
“You’re younger than me. How did you watch it?”
She sighs as she curls further into herself. “Reruns. And I had a lot of time, Brookie.”
This time the nickname doesn’t even faze me.
Sara has only offered me glimpses of her life outside of Boston. Hell, I barely know anything about her life outside the Bolts. For a woman who lives out loud and unapologetically, she’s notoriously quiet when it comes to personal matters. But from what I’ve gleaned, she had a lonely childhood.
While I have an abundance of siblings, I understand the feeling. Most don’t get the sentiment, but constantly being surrounded by people can get lonely too. So I reach over and pull her closer.
Her wine sloshes dangerously close to the rim of her glass, and she gasps, bringing her other hand to it to hold it steady. “If I spill on your couch, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Shut up and cuddle me, Sar.”
Her response is a soft chuckle that reverberates against me. Then she does just that, settling her head on my chest and stretching her legs out across the couch.
When my phone vibrates in my pocket, she tries to pull away so I can reach it, but I band one arm around her so she can’t shy away, then dig the device out awkwardly.
Beckett: Thanks for tonight. Appreciate you guys being there.
Gavin: Proud of you, bro. You’re already one hell of a father to Liv’s kids. Can’t wait to see you with your own.
Aiden: I have tears in my eyes. That was probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said. Say something nice to me.
Beckett: Thanks Gavin. Wouldn’t be here without you pushing me, though.
Gavin: Nah, you woulda figured it out eventually. Just would have driven Liv crazy for a few more years.
Aiden: Cool, you’re just ignoring me. Hey Brooks, you ever gonna chime in?
I shake with laughter as their texts pop up, one after another, then hold the phone down in front of her so she can read them all as I text a response.
Me: Excited for you, Beck. You’re gonna be great with twins. Agree with everything Gavin said. Aiden, you’re a good boy.
Aiden: I’m not a ducking dog.
Gavin: image of a duck
Aiden: I meant *fucking dog*
Gavin: Dog fucking, that’s low even for you.
Beckett: Duck, what the hell did I start? I’m going to bed. Don’t forget dinner tomorrow night for Dad’s 70th.
Gavin: You bringing the baseball team?
Beckett: Duck you. It’ll just be Livy and the kids and me.
Gavin: And that makes…?
Aiden: Tell Finn to bring his game boy.
Gavin: You’re a toddler.
Aiden: Finn is six. That makes me at least six.
Sara erupts in laughter. The sound of it and the absolute glee in her expression make my chest squeeze. “Oh my God. I seriously love your brothers.”
I arch a brow at her and press my lips together.
“Don’t worry, Brookie. You’re my favorite.”
I squeeze her hip in response, and she squeals, pulling away.
“But seriously. They are so fun.”
“You should come tomorrow.”
She shifts so she’s sitting cross-legged beside me and tilts her head, like she’s surprised by the suggestion. “To your dad’s seventieth?”
“Not as a date,” I add. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. Then she’d definitely shoot me down. “But as my friend. You had fun tonight, right?”
With a soft sigh, she sets her wineglass on the table, then gets back to cuddling. This time she rests her head in my lap and smiles up at me. I might like that smile a bit too much. “Yeah. I really enjoy spending time with your family.”
“Then come.”
She nibbles on that bottom lip of hers, considering.
I force myself to look away. It’s what I always do when she does something that makes me want to kiss her. I have no poker face when it comes to Sara. It’s impossible to hide the longing that hits me like a punch to the gut when she pulls that lip between her teeth or when she laughs or gives me one of those soft smiles. It’s better this way. Safer. Because she certainly isn’t looking back at me in any sort of way.
“Okay, I think I will. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” I point to the clicker, signaling that she should start the show, but I continue to keep my gaze averted. Two seconds after she hits Play, I’m talking again. “You going to tell me why you wanted to come back to my place?”
She glares up at me. Sara hates when I talk during movies or shows, but it’s virtually impossible not to. I never run out of things to say to her. Why waste that time zoned out on a screen when I could be listening to her adorably insane ramblings?
When I drop my chin and stare at her, refusing to cower, she relents. With a huff, she rolls her eyes. “Got in a fight with the boyfriend. Don’t feel like dealing with him tonight.”
My stomach sinks at the mention of the other man in her life. The one I like to pretend doesn’t exist. I’m not sure why she’s hiding him or allowing him to hide her. All I know is that if I were dating a girl like Sara, I’d make sure the world knew she was mine.
I use one finger to gently sweep a piece of hair from her face and swallow thickly. Her blue eyes hold so much hope. As if she’s counting on me to respond in a way that will make her feel better.
Wanting to say the right thing, to be the person she needs in this moment, weighs heavily on me, even as I keep my tone light. “You can always come here. Always.” I don’t look away, and I don’t stop stroking her hair. I want her to feel just how sincere I am.
The softest smile stretches across her pretty face. “You’re the best, Brooks. One of the greats.” With that, she shifts onto her side, but she keeps her head in my lap. “Now be quiet and fall in love with Pacey with me.”
I lean back and let out a chuckle, determined to enjoy this angsty teen drama with my favorite person.
Problem is that with her in my arms like this, Pacey is not the one I’m falling for.