Page 58 of The Sounds of Her
“You believe that?”
“No. Not with Roman sending me that stupid picture of the ring.”
I don’t need the reminder of that. I make a mental note to check out this Roman Campbell dude. Regardless of what Brooke and I are doing, he needs to back the fuck off. I want to know everything I can about him. I bet he’s one of those assholes who posts gym selfies.
“I should find out as much as I can about you if we’re gonna go public,” I say. “Nothing says fake like not having a clue about the person you’re supposed to be in a relationship with.”
“What do you want to know?”
I rub a hand over my beard. “Birthday would be good. Middle name? Favourite colour?”
“Does that come up when you’re being interviewed?” she laughs.
“You’d be surprised.”
“January eighth, Madeline and red.”
“Red,” I grin. “Nice.”
Brooke rolls her eyes at me.
“How old are you?”
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to ask a lady how old she is?”
“You’re no lady,” I laugh. “Come on. I’m thirty-one.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Twenty-eight.”
We run through a few more of the basics until she says she wants to take a shower and have a nap, reminding me tomorrow I have a day of press and a boat ride around the Sydney Harbour Bridge. She asks if she has to come along, but she’s off the hook.
“It’s not a day off. The boat is private and even with the interview and pictures, it should be pretty cool. They’re filming us for the tour video too.”
She nods and heads for the bathroom, disappearing behind the door. After a while, the shower starts. I will myself not to imagine her under the water, but it’s damn hard.
I don’t like how overwhelmed she looks and wonder if she is having second thoughts. If she is going to call her parents, I’m not sure whether to offer to be there or avoid it. I’ll leave it to her to decide. I stand in the doorway to the bedroom, looking at the few things she’s set out.
Sweet Jesus, how am I supposed to share a room with her for the next seven days? The only saving grace is, I’ll be exhausted from long days and the two and a half-hour shows we perform. And sleeping on the fucking couch.
My phone buzzes. Adam wants me to come to his room for a band meeting. Elsa and Jenna will come here. I grab a fresh t-shirt from my bag, change, then shove my phone in the back pocket of my jeans.
The shower stopped a couple of minutes ago, so I knock on the door. “I’m going to Adam’s room for a band meeting. The girls are gonna come here. Is that okay?”
“Yes, fine,” she calls through the door.
“Okay, see you later.”
I head to the door and am about to go through it when I remember I need the key card. I dropped it on the bedside table with my wallet when we got here. I whirl around and head back to the bedroom to grab it right as the door to the bathroom opens and Brooke comes out, wrapped in the smallest towel known to man. It barely covers her ass, which I see when she bends over to pick up something she dropped.
“Shit,” I hold up a hand. “Sorry.”
“I thought you left,” she squeals, straightening up and spinning around. She clasps the towel tight between her breasts and tugs at the back of it to make sure her ass is covered.
I can’t help it, my eyes have a mind of their own and lower down her chest. Her skin is wet, water droplets run over her collar bone, trailing down her chest.
“Forgot the key card.”
Brooke’s eyes narrow at me. I expect her to give me hell for getting an eyeful of her naked ass, but she stares at me, almost challenging me to say something. I blink out of the trance and grin at her, my eyes roaming her blatantly now.