Page 49 of The Sounds of Her
“Find your own boyfriend.”
“Just like that,” I run a hand through my hair, pulling it away after the breeze has blown it into my face. It’s getting a little chillier.
“How hard can it be? Have you seen you?”
“This issue is imminent, Archer. Do you think I’m going to find a boyfriend in the next couple of days, one who can scare my mother off? Maybe I’ll meet a rich old dude next week?”
I turn and walk away from the water. He follows me again, catching up so we’re side by side. I see my villa in the distance. I need a long hot bath and my bed. I’ll download one of Elle’s books. I didn’t bring any toys, but my fingers work perfectly fine.
I flush, thinking about touching myself when I can feel the heat of Archer’s body beside me. Get your head out of the gutter, for God’s sake.
It’s helped a little, getting this off my chest. I appreciate him listening, and getting some insight into his life has been interesting too.
His idea of getting a boyfriend to force mom to back off is insane.
Well, not exactly, it’s just not possible. I don’t know anyone who could help me. The only man who I might ask is closed off, barely able to talk about his feelings. As bad ideas go, asking Ciro is the worst.
“What if I do it?”
My feet stop and I whirl around to face Archer.
“Excuse me, what?”
Chapter Twelve
Okay, I said that. Brooke is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Why else would I offer to do this?
We stand in the sand, staring at each other. I’ve rendered her speechless. That has to be a first. I’m about to make a quip, to say it was a joke when her brow creases. Her lips pucker out. Is she considering this?
Then I notice she’s shivering, the night has cooled off. I’m only wearing a short-sleeve shirt that won’t help keep her warm if I offer it. Her villa is a little way down the beach.
“You’re cold,” I say.
“Cold? I’m… Confused.”
“Let’s get you warm. That was a dipshit thing to say.”
She looks too stunned to argue, so I put my hand on her lower back and guide her across the sand towards the path that leads to her villa. She keeps eyeing me but says nothing. It’s best if I make sure she gets back to her villa, tell her I’m full of shit and leave.
We walk through the plants up the narrow path until we come to her back deck. The pool lights illuminate the way. I pause at the steps up to the deck. Brooke is at the doors before she notices I’m not following.
“Nope.” She walks back and grabs my hand, dragging me up to the door. “You don’t drop that and get to walk away.”
It feels different stepping inside tonight. I’ve made a stupid suggestion, and she’s not letting me back out of explaining myself. Me and my big mouth.
A bikini lies on the floor by the door to the bathroom, it’s white, skimpy and my mind conjures images of her wearing it, lying on the sun lounger outside. Her bridesmaid dress hangs on the front of the closet. I can’t help but remember how she looked in that dress.
Why am I picturing her in these outfits instead of facing what I just suggested?
All thoughts leave my head when I turn around. Brooke stands in the centre of the room, her arms crossed as she stares at me.
“What?”
“Don’t what me,” she drops her arms. “What did you mean, what if you do it?”
“Got any of that tequila left?” I walk to the bar, spot the bottle, and grab two shot glasses.
Brooke watches in silence as I pour out two, then hand one to her. She takes it but doesn’t drink anything, still watching me with those perceptive eyes of hers.