“On my stomach,” I reply, speaking as if I’m asking him to pass me the salt at the supper table.
Brooks’ groan is primal, his face contorted. In fact, I would never recognize him if he were making this face on the street—his sex face looks nothing like him at all, and I stifle a giggle, watching his orgasm build.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grunts, hips pumping. Pumping and pumping, hands gripping the headboard as he thrusts once. Twice. Three more times.
When he pulls out to spill on my abs, I’m empty inside, literally and figuratively. Wet, sticky cum coats my skin.
He flops down beside me.
Lies with his arm over his brow, breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling while I do the same.
I just had sex with Brooks Bennett and I will never be the same.
22
Brooks
“I think we would make a great couple.” Abbott rolls over on the bed, yawning and pressing her face into my pillow, laughing.
“You know I don’t date.” I feel like the biggest asshole pointing that fact out post-coitus, while we’re still naked in my bed.
She rolls over to face me, tucking a hand under her chin, watching me with those big, blue doe eyes. They’re now a bit sad. “I know. I was just saying—I wasn’t saying I wanted to date you. I said we’d make a great couple. It was a simple observation.”
“Well I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“That’s a weird way of putting it. You can’t, or you won’t?”
There is no way for me to explain without sounding like a complete fucker. “Can’t. Both.”
“Won’t? You liar—you’d love dating me. I’m awesome.” She yawns again, tired and sleepy but not allowed to spend the night, though I haven’t actually said that yet. “Why do you keep saying you can’t date? It makes no sense. Are you the beneficiary to some fortune and the will stipulates you must remain single until your thirtieth birthday?” Abbott jokes, doing her best to make light of an awkward situation.
Her, in my bed as I try talking her out of it.
“I just can’t date anyone right now.”
“Why? There has to be a reason.”
There is, but it’s an embarrassing one, one that would get me in serious trouble with her and change the way she looks at me forever. And while I can’t date her now, I don’t want to risk our friendship by destroying that, too.
So I shrug. Feed her the smallest crumb of information. “I have this thing with my friends. If I started seeing someone, I would lose out on a few…opportunities.”
“What opportunities? A job? A promotion?”
“Not like that.” She has it all wrong, but I can’t tell her about the Bastard Bachelor Society. The guys and I swore we wouldn’t discuss it with women.
Abbott studies me, eyes raking over my face. “Like how, then? Just tell me—it’s not a big deal. I won’t judge you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s going to sound stupid.”
Abbott studies the hem of my cotton sheets, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “I’m sure it will. Half the shit you do is stupid.”
“Gee, tell me how you really feel.”
Her narrow shoulders shrug as if to say, ‘I just did.’
“A few months ago, we started this society, and dating breaks some of the rules.”
Obviously she’s already given me shit about being in a club, so she ignores that little factoid and wants to know, “Which rules?”
“All of them.”
She’s propped up on an elbow now, intently watching me from across the short expanse of mattress. If I reached out, I’d be able to touch her or pull her back into my arms. “How many rules are there?”
“Why are you asking so many questions?”
She sits up, affronted. “Because, Brooks—we just slept together. Because, Brooks…” My name doesn’t roll off her lips in the loving, adorable way she was saying it earlier today. This tone is sarcastic and unpleasant. “I care about you. So forgive me for asking a simple question about the guy I’m letting screw me when the mood strikes him. Apparently that’s all I’m good for these days—oral and fucking.” Abbott shoves back the blankets, scooting her ass to the edge of the bed, wiping my cum off her stomach with my clean sheet. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your business, but I’m not going to lie here and put up with the stonewalling—message received, loud and clear.”
“I wasn’t stonewalling you—I was talking.” Just not giving her the answers she desperately wants.
She steps into the slippers next to the bed—my slippers—glancing over her shoulder to glare down at me. “Don’t be so literal.”
She disappears into the hallway, throwing clothes on as she stalks back into the bedroom a few seconds later. I watch her step into underwear. Snap on her bra, locking away the memory of her perfect areolas…how they tasted…
“It’s not on purpose. I just am not at liberty to say.”
“No, I don’t suppose you are.” Abbott stands, and I can’t stop my eyes from skimming her ass, clad in the cutest panties I’ve seen in a long time. “So cliché.”
Ugh, fuck my life.
“Can you not tell Nan about this?” I beg, shoving down my blankets too, intent on following her.
Abbott scoffs. “Oh. Oh! Can we not tell Nan about this?” Now she’s pissed. “We’re telling Nan—oh boy are we telling Nan!” She’s huffing, yanking her pants on. “Wait until she hears about this! No more treats for you, a-hole.”
“Abbott! Come on!” I trail along, desperate and buck naked. “Don’t!”
She spins. “You’re afraid of a little old lady but not of me? What the hell, Brooks?”
“For the record, she’s not little and she’s not old. Nan is scary as fuck.”
“Yes, I know she’s terrifying because she’s my grandmother, not yours! You should be scared of her—she’ll eat you alive.”
“Pfft. I’m not afraid of Nan!” I love Nan. She’s my nan, too. She feeds me and brings me treats and actually gives a crap about me. Nan is the fucking shit, and if Abbott squeals on me and she gets mad at me too, I’ll…
I don’t know what I’d do if I lost them both.
Fuck.
If I lost them…
Without Nan, there would be no Abbott. Without Abbott in my life, I won’t have Nan. They’re like family.
Ohana and all that bullshit.
What does that mean?
“All you care about is the cat and Nan.” She tosses her hands up in surrender. “I’m so flattered.” Marches over and pokes me in the chest with a pink fingernail. “If we were dating, I’d dump your ass right now. But we’re not, so I can’t—because of some stupid club you won’t tell me about, with its stupid rules you won’t tell me about.” Grabbing her keys from the kitchen counter, she pulls her shirt over her head before yanking the door open. “I hope your boys, and your useless rules—whatever they are—are enough to keep you warm at night, you turd.”