Page 89 of The Sounds of Her
It’s a whole fucking chore getting us all to the airport. Brooke sits with me and when we get out, we hold hands for show. Fortunately, it isn’t awkward. She’s thawing a little, having had some time to think it through.
Does she regret it? I hate miscommunication, and Brooke is not the secretive type, which makes me suspect she is as affected by this afternoon as I am.
She just doesn’t want to admit it.
We get checked into the new hotel and I change into my outfit for the show. Brooke takes her turn in the bathroom after me.
“This is so not fair,” I groan, when she comes out of the bedroom, looking like fucking sin.
She glances down at her outfit. I won’t get to rip that dress off her later, if we don’t talk about what happened.
“What?” she asks, all fake innocence.
“You were about to say something earlier in the elevator, but DiMarco was there.”
That has been bothering me.
“Sex complicates things.”
“Does it? To me, it makes it more authentic.”
“Don’t make jokes,” she walks to the mirror to check her make-up, bending to get nearer to it.
Fuck, that ass. Not just her ass, all of her. I like Brooke. She’s beautiful, has a sarcastic humour. She riles Adam up for her own amusement, says what she means and does what she wants.
Behind it all, there is a girl who spent her whole life believing no one wants her.
My brows lift as my brain whirs. Is that why she is pulling back after we had sex? Thinking I fucked her because I want to get my dick wet, and I won’t care now we have?
“I’m not joking, Brooke.”
She finishes up and turns to face me.
“We should keep having sex, so our fake relationship is more realistic?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. What goes on in private, between us, is more than that.”
Brooke swallows, and I see that insecurity again. She tries hard to hide it from everyone, but I see her now. I didn’t fuck her out of sympathy or wanting to make it all better. That would take years to unpack by highly skilled shrinks. My dick isn’t going to miraculously fix her problems.
“What if you’re getting swept up in the fantasy of it?”
“What would be so wrong with that?”
“Are you trying to tell me you want to keep having sex, Archer?”
There’s the blunt in your face woman I’m used to. I shrug, nonchalant. I almost say it’s not like it means anything, but that would be a real foot in the mouth moment. Also, it isn’t true.
“I’m attracted to you. And you’re attracted to me. I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks or any of that bullshit Jordan keeps saying. This isn’t about anyone else.”
“I’m leaving in three days. And once I’ve talked to my parents,” her face darkens. “You could be off the hook.”
“Yeah, about that.” I rub the back of my neck.
“What?”
“Well, I agreed to do this because I want to help you, but it wasn’t completely altruistic.”
“Getting people off your back,” she says, knowing what I mean.