“Good for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.” I start pushing past him, but he steps back out in front of me.
“How have you been?”
I glare at him. “Good.” The word slices between my clenched teeth.
He studies me with concern and the more he does, the more my anger crumbles into the sea of guilt for acting the way I am. I sigh. “Seriously, I’m good. But I’m in a rush. We’re in the middle of Operation Heartbreak and you’re standing in my way. I need to get back to Aimee before the ice cream melts.”
Sympathy falls on his expression. “Is she okay?”
“She will be. Her shitty boyfriend blindsided us all because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Men? Am I right?”
I’m such an idiot.
He moves out from in front of me. “It was good seeing you.”
I give a nod without a word and rush past him, being smacked in the face by his cologne. It causes a cold chill to run the length of my spine. Stupid sexy smelling men.
I’m tossing everything in the back seat of my car when a bouquet of pretty colorful assorted daises are put in my face. “Give these to her for me, please. Hopefully it’ll bring a smile to her face.”
Confounded, I look to Nathan as I take them from him. “Okay.” My one word rides out sounding more like a question.
But he doesn’t stick around. He nods and walks away.
I look at the flowers, debating whether I should put them on my roof and forget they’re there when I drive off, but instead, I clench my jaw and put them in my passenger seat.
Angry jealousy. That’s what I’m experiencing. I’m angry because he hurt me and jealous because I miss getting flowers from him.
Just when my thoughts aren’t all about him, he pops back up and makes sure they are. Damn him.
FIFTEEN
I’m a man willing to fix his mistakes and with Brooklyn I have to get creative. I fucked up and hurt her, unintentionally of course, but for a woman, hurt is hurt regardless of the intent.
Brooklyn intrigues me. She’s a strong woman with independence embedded into her soul. Not to sound like an arrogant ass, but I’ve never met a woman who can walk away from me. Brooklyn’s done it multiple times. Most women like to throw themselves my way, purposely stumbling into me to catch my attention.
Note to all women: Don’t seem desperate. It’s a huge turn-off.
But Brooklyn isn’t typical, something I failed to take notice of initially. Her integrity is the sexiest damn thing about her apart from her eyes, lips and strong mind.
I’m stooping low this time, using Aimee’s breakup as a way to reach out to her.
Me: How’s Aimee?
I watch as the dots pop up and disappear several times before staying up and getting a response.
Brooklyn: Today is better. Ice cream for the win. She thanks you for the flowers.
Me: Can I take you to lunch today? Give you a breather?
Brooklyn: Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather comfort my friend.
Me: Can I have food delivered for you all?
Brooklyn: No. We have everything covered.
I can hear the attitude in her texts.
Me: Very well. Let me know if you need anything.
Brooklyn: Nothing from you is needed.
I love that she writes her own rules and isn’t afraid to follow them.
I push away from my desk, unable to concentrate on the work in front of me, and dial Cody instead.
“You up for a run?” I ask.
“Does the popcorn flavored jelly bean taste like a buttered fart?”
Cracking up, I slip on my black gym shorts and pull my shirt over my head. “What the hell, man?” I say with a laugh.
“I can be there in twenty,” he says.
“See you then.”
I park in the lot a block and half away from the park in front of Synergenis. We do this so on the way back we can grab a post workout drink. It gives us that one last push when we need it the most. Not even thirty seconds later, Cody’s white sporty Durango pulls up beside me and he hops out.
We stretch our legs and then push off.
“You’re coming to Mom’s birthday cookout. Right?” Cody asks.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. That’s next weekend, right?”
“You got it. I had Patricia put it on your calendar so your sorry ass wouldn’t miss it this year,” he says with a laugh.
“I didn’t do it on purpose last year.”
“I know. Business called. You think Claire will make it?”
I shake my head. “Doubt it. She’s working on a project for Michael that has her traveling to different states to check out places to film.”
My sister has a spectacular career as the assistant to producer and director Michael Chandler and a location scout. When she’s not in the studios working, she’s out traveling the world researching and photographing perfect places for scenes.
“She tell you what this movie is about?” he asks.
I tighten my lips. “Some action flick is all she gave me.”
The path we run gives us five miles with an added mile to and from our vehicles. Keeping a steady pace, we’re able to complete it in forty-five minutes to an hour, depending on how much talking we do. Today, we talked too damn much, but it was needed and helped get shit off my mind.
After grabbing our protein shakes, we walk out of Synergenis and toward our vehicles when I spot Brooklyn’s car a few stores down. The back door as well as the trunk are open. She comes out of the store with her arms stretched wide carrying flat cardboard boxes and shoves them into her back seat before retreating back into the store.
“Isn’t that…” Cody trails off.
“Yeah,” I reply making a beeline to her.
She comes back out, shoves the boxes into her trunk and slams it shut. Just as she does, her eyes land on me. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” she groans looking to the sky.
I hum a chuckle. Her mouth says one thing, but those beautiful espresso eyes of hers shimmer with happiness.
“I’m seriously beginning to believe you’re stalking me,” she says with an attitude.
I hold up my protein shake. “Post run tradition. We do it weekly.” I look to the boxes in her back seat. “Planning on moving closer?”
She exhales a laugh as her face pinches in disgust. “Yeah, right. It’s too richy here. Aimee has transitioned into the pissed staged and we’re packing everything of her ex-boyfriend’s for her to toss out the door. Anger therapy.” She lifts a shoulder with sadness in her eyes.
“Sounds like you need anger therapy too,” Cody interjects with a sly smirk. “Can I take you to dinner tonight? Maybe go dancing to alleviate some of that pent-up anger?”
My eyes, full of fury, cut to Cody. What the fuck?
Her brows slant angrily as her upper lip curls up. “Is this some twisted game between you two?” she snaps bitterly.
Cody holds up one hand in surrender, the other still holding his cup. “No. Not at all. Dumbass screwed up his chances, so he has no say so on what I can do. I’d like to have a chance to help you with that anger.” He winks.
I’m going to murder him.