“Because we’re friends, and friends do that shit.”
“And we’re just ignoring the fact that both of us could buy a moving company ten times over so we don’thaveto do it ourselves?”
“Eh.” He shrugs and polishes off his beer. “A little manual labor will do you good if you’re bitching this much about a trunk’s worth of boxes.”
I scowl.
But because he’s right, I don’t comment further.
And by the time I polish off my beer, the Eagles have won, and we’re getting into Brooks’s SUV.
He turns out onto the street, starts winding his way through the rolling green hills, having moved into the exclusive community that abuts the Oak Ridge vineyards and estate. It’s a nice area, and there are a few empty lots left.
Maybe I can convince Marie to build something from scratch.
Some place where we can progress our relationship.
Some place we can fill with memories and…kids.
Or maybe I need to slow my roll, because I’ve only just gotten her to the point she’s comfortable with being my girlfriend.
I don’t even know if she wants kids.
Scratching that on to my mental checklist to ask the next time I have an opportunity, I tune back into the winding roads and realize?—
“Hey, this isn’t the way to the storage?—”
He pulls to a stop, glances over at me.
“That’s because I’m not going to force you to load some boxes, dumbass.” His mouth tips up. “But I’m damned glad you’re willing to because I reserve the right to torture you with it another day.”
I frown at him, having no clue what the fuck is going on. “I?—”
Something he clearly sees. “Man,look.”
Finally, I stop staring at him.
And I look, not processing what I’m seeing at first.
Marie is standing behind her car, watching us.
“What’s—”
“Go to her,” Brooks orders.
“You—” Another shake of my head. “She?—”
“She needed someone to keep you busy for a few hours. Mission accomplished,” he says quietly. “Now go enjoy whatever it is she has planned, yeah? And make sure you tell her how much you love her at the end of it.”
“I—”
But I don’t tell him to mind his own business or that I don’t love her.
Because Brooks is right.
She’s mine, and my heart is hers…and it’s been that way since she first stole my Lyft.
I pop the door, climb out, pausing before I throw it closed. “Brooks?”
