“My brother, Dean? His girlfriend, who is also my best friend, works in The New York Center for Autism. It’s a charter school up in Harlem. I volunteer there with her every other weekend I’m off,” she shrugged like she wasn’t saying shit to make me crush on her more.
“You’re kind of making me want to flirt with you even more,” I said honestly.
There’s that beautiful blush.
“If you need any help while he’s staying with you, I can give you Liv’s number,” she said, wiping her lips with a napkin.
“How about yours?” I blurted.Damn, I wanted her number bad.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” the waitress asked. I stared at Brooke’s face, hoping we could stay in this little corner booth for the rest of the night. I didn’t want to face Cameron again; not knowing how to help him was killing me. Watching him become so frustrated and enraged, because I didn’t know what to do made me feel like the worst brother in the world.
“No, thank you. Just the check,” Brooke said, smiling up at the waitress.
“Sure thing, here you go, hun,” the waitress replied and placed the bill on the table between us. It was adorable when Brooke went to reach for it.
“Touch it, and I will tell everyone in this diner that you’re here trying to buy me as an escort, for a whopping sum of five hundred dollars.”
Her hands froze, hovering an inch over the bill. “You wouldn’t dare,” she laughed.
I shifted my body around in the booth and whistled at an older couple, two booths away. “Hey,” I called.
She smacked my hand away. “Shut up, stop. You’re embarrassing me.”
“That’s the point,” I laughed.
“What, to embarrass me?” She asked, laughing back at me.
“No,” I laughed harder, shaking my head, “To let me pay for your dinner.”
“I can’t let you pay for my—”
“Yes, Brooke, you can. Please let me pay. I’m kind of old-fashioned, and I think a beautiful woman deserves to have dinner bought for her every now and then.”
She slowly pulled her hand away, and her face paled. “Thank you, Cage.”
I pulled out my wallet and threw down a few twenties, making sure the waitress got a good tip.
Brooke slid out of the booth and stood. I helped her with her coat, and she blinked up at me in surprise. “Uh, thanks. Again.”
“You’re right,” I whispered, not able to keep the pity out of my voice.
“What am I right about?” she asked, looking up at me through impossibly long lashes.
“You’re really used to meeting shitty men. You shouldn’t be surprised when a decent one wants to pay for your dinner and help you put your coat on.”
“Meeting them is not my problem, unfortunately.” Her voice was sad, hollow, and she grimaced.
“Then, what is?” I asked, curious to see if she was honest with what her problem really was.
“Decent seems to bore me. Wild turns me on. I’m a complete cliché. I like bad boys. And I fall in love so fast, and I’m gullible and believe what I want to see instead of what’s real.” As she spoke, her eyes glazed wetly. She’d probably said that speech to herself in the mirror dozens of times in her life. Maybe it was something she’d heard too, from someone who was trying to put her in a neat little box with a pretty pink bow. Women aren’t so simple. They’re not easily explained, and my mother taught me long ago to never try to understand why people fall in love, just that they will and sense means nothing. Not when the heart is concerned.
We walked out of the restaurant, me walking as close to her as I possibly could. Close enough that the back of our hands touched, and her gaze kept glancing toward the spot like it was something to be frightened of. We walked that way, that close, all the way down the block to the parking lot where she parked her car for work that morning. I opened the door for her as she turned slowly and stilled, realizing how close she was standing next to me. Once again, I could smell the sugary sweet soap she used. I found myself leaning toward her, and stopped, backing away. “Thanks again,” she whispered.
“Anytime,” I said, low.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, probably, maybe,” she murmured, but stood motionless and wide-eyed, staring up at me.
“Yeah, tomorrow,” I said, taking another step back to put more distance between us.
