Anna nodded and added,“It was my first language.“ She paused as if determining if now was a better time to share.“My mother almost only speaks in French. I think she knows more English than she lets on though. I’ve caught her watching soap operas without subtitles more than once.”
The depth of Anna choosing to write in her first language–a language she shares with her mother–wasn’t lost on Brooke. Anna had trusted her with the truth of her childhood trauma. Anna writing in French held meaning, regardless of the randomness of the inscription.“It’s a beautiful language.”
Anna smiled a small, reserved smile in return before she opened her own new book and read what Brooke had written. She let out a cough of a laugh and reached out, letting her hand come to a rest on Brooke’s forearm.“This is brilliant. Utterly hilarious, and honestly the best life advice I’ve ever read.”
Brooke lit up.“That’s how I felt when I first read it. I try to live my life by that, but logic and reason are sadly hard for me to bargain with sometimes.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you, B.” Anna bit her bottom lip.“So, I was thinking.”
“Continue,” Brooke said, warily.
“We should have little pet names for each other.” Anna said it so confidently, so matter of factly that Brooke knew that despite how ridiculous the sentiment was, Anna was perfectly serious.
“You think we should have little pet names for each other?” She repeated Anna’s sentence back to her, the only change was the inflection at the end. Brooke buried the fact that she had already settled ondarlingin her mind. She would let Anna take the lead.
Anna nodded.“I do. And, more importantly, I’ve finally figured out what I should call you.”
Brooke didn’t know if she should be excited, hopeful, or afraid. On the one hand, a name hand picked just for her by Anna was just that, a hand picked name just for her. On the other, it was likely to be embarrassing, and given the way in which Anna was practically vibrating out of her seat with excitement, Brooke was inclined to assume it was likely the latter.“Okay,” she managed cautiously.“Let’s hear it then.”
“Honey.” Anna did little jazz hands to accompany the name.
Brooke’s head tilted to one side, that was oddly anti-climactic.“Honey?” she repeated.
“Yep,” Anna grinned, clearly pleased with herself.
It was easy, not embarrassing, honestly fairly common, if not a little southern-bible-belt-north-american.
Anna let out a maniacal little chuckle, almost a hiccup from the back of her throat.“Because… you’d be a Honey-B.”
Oh for fuck’s sake, why was that actually the cutest thing Brooke had ever heard in her entire life. She hated how much she loved it. How much she wanted to preen under the newly bestowed title, how Anna had just played a royal flush on Brooke’s favorite form of humor.
Anna’s face fell.“You hate it.”
“No, Anna. I don’t hate it,” Brooke said, quickly.
Anna’s frown only deepened.“Then why’d your face get all serious?”
Brooke’s throat went dry,because it’s perfect, too perfect, because I’m already falling and this is all pretend. Because in one night of fake dating, I’ve been more myself than I have with women I’ve dated for six months.She cleared her throat.“No, Anna. I apologize. My face just does that when I’m thinking. You’ve picked a perfect pet name for me, and I’ve never been the type to use one—Or have one for that matter.”
Anna’s face shifted slowly back into that hopeful sort of energy that seeped from her.“So you don’t hate it?”
“No, Anna. It’s lovely.” Brooke cleared her throat again, needing to not gush all over the woman who was so kindly doing her the world's largest favor.“You’re a truly wonderful friend.”
Anna smiled a new smile, one that looked like it held the weight of a wonderfully significant inside joke.“Thank you, Honey. I think you’re pretty awesome, too.” Her hand, still resting on Brooke’s forearm, squeezed. The pad of her thumb traced gentle circles near the inside of Brooke’s inner elbow.
It was Brooke’s turn to share.“My family was not the sort to have nicknames for each other. My mother was, well, mother—or Sybil. And there was father, also known as Augustus, and brother, or Nathaniel. He was only sometimes, very rarely, when we were alone, Nate. B is something my friends called me. When Nathaniel would echo it, my parents would chide him, and remind us that that’s not what they named me.”
Anna’s jaw flexed, almost imperceptibly. If Brooke’s gaze hadn’t fallen and lingered on her beautiful, full lips, she would have missed it.“I’ll make sure they hear it,” Anna said, lifting her chin and eyebrow simultaneously. A challenge if ever Brooke had seen one. It made Brooke’s heart stutter. Her eyes shifted down to Anna’s fingertips, still drawing absentminded patterns against the inside of her forearm.
“And what shall I call you? Should our nicknames bear resemblance? I could call you Bear?” Brooke teased. No, that wasn’t the correct word. She wasn’t teasing, she was flirting, playing, leaning into their game.
Anna’s fingertips traced higher, finding the hem of Brooke’s sleeve, stretched tightly over her bicep, and dipping under ever so slightly.“Hmmm, that sounds like what you might call a puppy,” Anna teased back, her eyes trailing decidedly south of Brooke’s eyes.
“My Queen?” Brooke whispered, the gap between them all but gone, their very public location long forgotten.
Anna’s cheeks flushed deliciously. That was something that Brooke would file away. Suddenly a voice in the back of her mind shouted.This is all pretend.And the spell was broken. Brooke’s eyes flashed back up to Anna’s in a panic, her spine straightened suddenly.
Anna smiled kindly, her hand sliding safely back to Brooke’s wrist, not gone, but definitely no longer teasing.“Earlier, you called me darling,” she said, easily.“I liked it.”
