I blinked at him. “Huh?”
Maybe it was the wrong reaction because he shook his head mutely and then stalked past me, towel in place, and I felt like an idiot for missing something that was probably really important. Then it hit me, I never said any of that stuff, so who did? The ex-husband? Brody was gorgeous, and I loved his hard bits, and I freaking adored his soft bits, and I wanted more of it all.
“I need to go to my room.” Brody began to dress, and I didn’t want him to, I wanted to tell him it was all okay, and that his ex was an asshole, and that he was perfect.
I scrambled to stand and grabbed for his pants to stop him from walking away, which was just freaking stupid. He yanked back, and we entered into a tug of war that neither of us were willing to lose for some ridiculous reason that would have been funny if it wasn’t for the look of distress on his face. What am I doing? I let my hold drop immediately.
“I’m sorry if I did something wrong.” I slumped back to the bed. “I’m not good at this relationship stuff.” He seemed to pause, torn between grabbing his pants and leaving or staying. Then he sat so heavily on the desk chair it slid back and hit the desk, and he seemed startled as if he couldn’t believe what he’d done.
“Well that was shit,” he let out after a few moments of silence. “I just did exactly what Marc accused me of, freaked the hell out and panicked.”
“You want to talk about it?” I asked even though I didn’t want him to say we were done with whatever it was we were doing.
“Marc wasn’t good for me.” He glanced up at me. “Well you know we’re not together, so that speaks volumes.” He stopped.
“I know, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you.”
He smiled at me, but there was sadness in his smile. “He had this way of making me feel as if I was less than him, and it wasn’t a new thing, and it was probably mostly my fault.” He stopped again and scrubbed his face. From next to my foot where his pants were lying, I heard his cell vibrate. “I need to take this.”
“Okay.” That was weird, he hadn’t even seen who was calling, but it was more important to answer the call than talking to me? It had felt so right that he was telling me things, but maybe I wasn’t the person he wanted to talk to.
“I’m okay,” he said as soon as he answered the phone, his expression going from guarded to resigned. “No, I’m with Justin… yes we did… God I’m not telling you that, asshole. No, he’s not… what?” With a sigh, he handed me the phone, and I took it on reflex and held it to my ear.
“Hello?” I said not sure who I was even going to be talking to. Was there an emergency? Was I wrong to feel pissed he’d broken our heart to heart just to talk to this person?
“Hey, I’m Adam, Brody’s twin brother.”
“Oh, nice to meet you.”
“His ex was an asshole. His confidence is shot. I can feel him panicking, but also that he likes you. You look out for him, but you break his heart, and I will break your dick.”
“Okay—”
“Hand me back.”
I did as I was told because Brody was hovering.
“What did you say to him?” he asked his brother, but there was mumbling and then Brody sighed. “You’re wondering why I’m not zen? You just… whatever… I wish. Okay. I’ll tell him. Love you.”
He sat down and laid the phone on the table and then cracked his neck. “I signed the divorce papers. It’s done, but somehow I have all these insecurities about my time with him, about why we even got married, from him cheating on me or laughing at me. All of it has messed with my head.” He lifted his T-shirt to expose his belly, that softly rounded part of him that had been my pillow this morning. “I’m no Adonis, and Marc loved to tell me that. I know it’s stupid but you’re probably at the gym all the time, and me? I’m working so many hours, and I end up with cake for every meal of the day. Stupid, right?”
That was what was bothering him? I guess I should have realized by the way he tugged at his shirt.
I went to kneel in front of him, shuffling between his legs until he gave in and widened them. Once I was close, I placed my hands on his hips and kissed his belly.
“It’s so soft and so you. It means that even though you’re this genius baker who is sexy and gorgeous, there is a secret part of you that only I get to use as a pillow. I love your hard bits and your soft bits, and I want to get to know everything even better. Your ex was an ass, and I will never do that to you, and fuck, if I’m being honest, I only go to the gym because I’m so fucking lonely sometimes.”
That all sounded like nonsense as it spilled out, but I wasn’t teasing him, or laughing, I was being absolutely genuine, and it was absolutely true that time at the gym was nothing but a way to get more likes and comments, and mostly because staying in my huge place made me feel so damn lonely.
I hugged him closer then I buried my face against his warm skin and pressed kisses wherever I could. I was desperate for him to understand what was happening and waiting for him to shove me away.
But when he tangled his fingers in my hair and let out a sigh of contentment, another part of my heart filled with joy. I’m so sappy.
I’d forgotten how much I liked baking. I’d added more posts introducing people to the intricacies of baking and sue me if the wording I used was aimed at a younger age than my demographic. Erin was pissed, and I know that because she sent me a strongly worded email complete with something called a heat map of social interaction. Apparently, that map exposed me as breaking the barriers and that was not what I should be doing.
But I loved it. And of course I’d had some shit responses along with the positive. The creaming tutorial I’d put up on my channel last night had lewd remarks about me getting my shirt off, but I deleted the ones I saw and went through and clicked the heart next to each positive comment.
Maybe I could do something for kids, like a cookbook or a segment on social media. Not for money, not to sell kids versions of my adult T-shirts or products that would harm them with enough sugar content to rot their teeth or alcohol. No, this would be like a how to bake thing, and I could be funny and make it cute and make something different to the Justin I am who takes off his shirt and made jokes about erections.
Thing is, I hadn’t mentioned any of that to Erin because I know what she’d say, and I knew that I’d signed up for a few last things to add to my happy-with-life pot and that I needed to focus on the next few months.
But after that? All bets were off.
We’d moved onto the next filming for episode three, and only Clare, Brody, Ivan and me were left. I’m not sure Ivan’s heart was truly in it, and as I expected he was the one to leave us after his nod to the seventies flan collapsed in on itself. Just like Shauna, he had a reason to want to leave, and I didn’t blame him. He and Kristen had plans to visit more of the local area, and after his sound bites today we were saying goodbye to them both for the week until the final.
I’d come out as the week’s best baker, although some of that was due to Brody, who’d encouraged me with smiles and kisses in breaks and added unashamed affection. We kept it mostly to ourselves, but a flour fight halfway through the filming of the showcase, which ended up with him looking like a ghost, probably implied more than I thought it had. Somehow we’d slipped up just by being us, and my social media was blowing up.