I let the silence stretch, let her feel it.
“Yeah.” My voice was low, even. Dangerously calm. “Long time, no see.”
I leaned in just enough to watch her swallow hard. She looked the same—beautiful, perfect,mine.“It’s been, what… two years since you slammed the door in my face?”
3
Michelle
The pulseat the base of my neck pounded like a warning, and I pressed my hand over it, as if I could physically stop my reaction to Brooks Madsen.
God help me. He looked even better than he had two years ago, better than in the TV interview I’d seen that morning. Stronger. Sharper. And currently, furious.
His nostrils flared the longer I stayed silent. I had no words for him. I couldn’t explain why we had to end, just that we did.
“Hey,” I managed, my voice barely working.Lame. “Brooks.”
He barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless, running a hand along his jaw. That jaw. I’d kissed every part of it and it looked even better.
“‘Hey’? That’s all I get?”
“...Yes?” I grabbed my plate and moved to leave. The kitchen. The house. The entire damn county.
But Brooks sidestepped, blocking my path.
His gaze raked over me, slow and assessing. Heat crackled between us, the same way it always had.
“I have questions.” His voice dipped lower, rougher.
“You won’t like my answers.” I steeled my spine, already on edge. I was not talking about this with him. Not here. Not ever, actually.
“Let me be the judge of that.” He stepped in closer, his familiar scent invading my senses. I closed my eyes and my body betrayed me instantly—a rush of memories hit like a freight train. His hands. His mouth. The way he’d—No.
“Why are you here?” he asked, voice like gravel and restraint. “That seems like an easy enough question.”
“Why are you?” I shot back, desperate to shift the focus. There was a reason I avoided his calls and pleas to talk. I couldn’t resist him. He broke down every granite wall I constructed around my heart and I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t afford to have distractions.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling hard, clearly annoyed with this conversation.
Good.Maybe he’ll leave me alone.
“Gideon invited me,” he said, unapologetically honest, like always. “I’m on the team now. Thought it’d be good to get to know the guys.”
My stomach twisted. He was always like this—clear, direct, no games. He was put together, I was a mess. The exact opposite of me. One more reason I had to stop us before we started. We never would have worked.
“That’s…kind of him,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.
“Sure. Now you.” He took the plate from my hands and set it on the counter like I wasn’t about to run for my life.
“It’s been two years since I’ve seen your face, Michelle,” he murmured, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “You’d think I would’ve forgotten the effect you have on me.”
My breath hitched. “Brooks…” I held up a hand, a flimsy defense. “Whatever this is, it can’t happen.”
He laughed. Not the warm, easy kind. The disbelieving, you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me kind.
“Oh yeah?” His gaze locked onto mine. “Then why did you slam the door in my face and ignore every single text and call?”
My throat convulsed. He wasn’t easing into it. No warning, no pretense. Just Brooks, demanding the truth I would never give him.
