There’d been more too. I’d had a little too much fun creating my imaginary image and a lot more fun passing it off to the aunts—and of course, Jenessa and Claire. Lia had been rolling with laughter.
None of this was supposed to be like this.
“Tell me..” Phoebe shifted her attention to Brooks—I think I wasn’t giving her what she wanted. “When did you both realize you had feelings for each other?”
Oh crud.
Brooks choked. Then choked again. “Water.”He waved toward a plastic bottle, and Phoebe reached for it, pushing it into his hands. He popped off the cap and took a long drink, his eyes begging me to intervene.
I didn’t have a clue what to say!
Pretend, Brooks. This is all fake. Just go for it.
I could only hope he could read my emotional cheerleading from the expression on my face.
Brooks lowered the water bottle, the plastic crunching beneath his grip. He shifted his panicked look from me to Phoebe. Only, by the time he was fully focused on Phoebe, he’d transformed into some charming version of Brooks Mason I’d not really seen before.
He’d done it! He’d read my mind!
But then he reached over and grabbed my hand. He laced his fingers through mine and squeezed—probably a little too tightly—before he smiled. That charming, heart-stopping, make-me-a-puddle-of-goo smile.
“I knew the moment I met her.” Brooks cast me the tail end of that delicious smile. “Like—I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. I’ve only just moved here, and I need to focus on baseball, but . . .” He fixed an absolutely dreamy expression on me. “But it’s Brielle. She’s awesome, right? I mean—she’s smart, she reads books, she’s cute, and to top it off, she loves baseball. Not a lot of girls really get it, and she does.”
Was he ever pulling this off!
His thumb stroked my hand.
Please stop!My heart couldn’t take it.
No. Don’t.
I really didn’t know what was happening to me.
“Brielle was just meant to be my shortstop,” Brooks finished.
Phoebe let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a squeal. “You guys,” she shook her head as if in complete awe. “I don’t think anyone could have written a better romance than this.”
I could think of quite a few authors who could’ve pulled it off. I just wished I wasn’t the main character.
Chapter 14
Brooks
“Pride and Prejudice?” I held the book like it was dipped in poison.
“With sprayed edges!” Brielle looked positivelyhappy.
Whatever that meant.
“Wasn’t this written like a hundred years ago?”
“Actually, two hundred. And look!” Brielle snatched the book from my hands—granted, I wasn’t hanging on to it too tightly—and opened the hardcover to show me the inside paper. “It has embossed letters in the title—insidethe book.”
“Is that . . . good?” I had no idea.
“Bruh.” Brielle’s shoulders dropped a bit, her excitement shifting over into the disappointed-in-me column. “How could you even ask that?”
“Okay. I won’t ask again.” I shot her a grin that I hoped was enough of an apology. It must have worked. Her face reddened, and she looked away for a second.
