Page 17 of Renegade
“Yep.”
“Fitz, that’s too much,” she says, finally placing her hand in mine, making my system come alive with adrenaline.
I crack a smile and pull her to me. “Brooklyn, believe me, it won’t hurt my bank account. Like at all.” After a few minutes of staying wrapped in each other, I pull away and walk around a bit too where I know the table is waiting for us.
In the corner, overlooking the expanse of Central Park down below, a tiny white-clothed table sits. Sparkling crystal wine glasses and silver cutlery adorn the table with a bright red rose standing tall in the middle. When she sees the table set up, she stops in her tracks. “What are you doing?”
“I thought you’d like to have dinner on top of the world,” I say and pull her seat out for her. She sits down and I go to sit across from her. A waitress rushes over and pours each of us a glass of red wine, before going back to stand to the side. I’d much rather a beer or hard liquor, but Poppy said wine is romantic. “I know you don’t drink, so if you don’t like the wine, there are other things.”
“This is by far the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” she says and picks up her glass. “Thank you for taking time out of your crazy life to plan this incredible night for me.”
“Brooklyn, it’s not over yet. Let’s eat,” I say with a wink.
I asked Poppy what Brooklyn’s favorite meal was and she told me chicken parmesan, so I had two plates delivered, along with salads and warm bread.
When the waitress places our food in front of us, Brooklyn covers her mouth and looks up at me. “Are you kidding me? How did you know?”
“I’m not just a musician baby,” I say, giving her a smirk. “Now, tell me your favorite part of the city from today.”
We talk throughout the meal about everything she saw today and how she loved it. She went on and on about seeing Brooklyn and Central Park. She told me she is going to walk the park one day and I make a mental note to either be there myself or make sure she has security with her. She is too trusting, too naïve to walk around alone. We finish up dinner, which she says is the best chicken parm she’s ever had, and the waitress takes everything away.
After a few minutes of silence while she glances out at the breathtaking view of the city night life, I reach over placing my hand over hers. “Tell me something,” her eyes flitter to mine than back out to the city. I squeeze her hand, garnering her attention again, “What was your one big dream growing up?”
She pulls her hand out from under mine and puts them both on her lap. “My dream?” she asks and casts her green eyes downward, giving me a perfect view of her jawline and my body heats up at the thought of nibbling along it. I’m not sure if she’s ignoring the question, thinking of an answer, but I patiently sit and wait. She finally turns back to me and shrugs. “When I was little, I wanted to be an artist, because my teacher said my painting was good.” She gives me a small smile, while I nod my head. “In high school my guidance counselor suggested I work toward the goal of getting scholarships, so I did. I went to college and got my degree in social work, because my parents said it was a good fit for me.” I’m starting to notice a pattern here, but I grin when she rolls her eyes. “I worked at the bank while I went to college, because a friend at the time said I should work while going to school. I graduated and my boss at the bank said I was too good to let go, so I stayed. I don’t know what my dream was, I guess I’ve been living everyone else’s,” she says lifting her delicate shoulders and turning her green gaze away from me.
I have no choice, I get up and kneel in front of her, resting my hands on her soft thighs. “Have you ever done anything you wanted to do?” Slowly she shakes her head and it pisses me off. Who the fuck doesn’t let someone figure out their own dream? What kind of people is she surrounded by at home? “Brooklyn, what do you want to do?”
“Fitz, I don’t know. Banking is what I know. Social work is what I’ve learned. I don’t know where my heart lies,” she whispers.
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“Don’t think so hard,” I say, moving my face closer to hers. “Tell me what you want, Brooklyn.” I don’t know how it’s turned from her dreams, to mine, but this is mine. I want, no I need to kiss her.
“I want a lot of things I can’t have, Fitz, but I’m scared” she says and stands up wrapping her delicate arms around herself. “I think we need to go.”
Unfuckingbelievable. I stand up, pull her to me and hold her close. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do,” I say, taking advantage of this moment of her letting her guard down.
“What’s your dream Fitz?” she asks, still wrapped around me.
“I’m living my dream, baby,” I say.
“You never want more?”
Well that’s the million dollar question, but I’ll never say it aloud. “Maybe, but for now, I’ve got everything I want.” I mean it too, because at this moment, with her in my arms, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
She finally pulls away and we end our night, high above the city. When we get back into the limo, she smiles at me and lays her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for a magical night. I’ll never forget it.”
“Neither will I, Brooklyn.” Neither will I.
I’ve slept a total of four hours. I can’t sleep, because every time I close my eyes, I see piercing blue ones staring into my soul. Trying to figure me out and making me want to do things I’ve never thought of before. It’s no better when I open them, because the only thing I can think about is the night Fitz planned for me. A magical night that would never have happened if he wasn’t the popular, wealthy rock star he is. Part of it turns me on and part of it scares the shit out of me. I’m not sure if he’s trying to seduce me or if he generally wants me to experience all these wonderful things.
When we are together, he makes me feel so special, so beautiful. I find myself getting sucked into his words, his touch and his stories. Although, when I’m laying here, staring at the ceiling, it makes me wonder how much of it’s real and how much of it’s an act. I just don’t know.
“Brooklyn, are you up?” Poppy says as she opens the bedroom door.
“I’m up.” I turn to face her.
She sits on the bed and has that big ass smile on her face again. She raises her eyebrows and shakes my legs, before bouncing up and down on the bed. “Damn it, tell me how your night was. Nate and I heard you come home pretty late.”