That was dangerous to the perfect life balance I had. He was terrifying.
Across the table, Brigham said something stupid, and Brooks let out a deep, rich laugh, the kind that curled around my spine and settled low in my stomach.
His cologne was familiar, reminding me of our late nights together years ago, and each time he moved, I inhaled, hoping he wouldn’t notice. I swallowed and took another sip of wine, focusing on something—anything—other than him.
Safety in the Workplace.
I had a chapter to read when I got home. That should have been a mood killer. I could practically name every chapter in that textbook and yet my body still hummed while sitting next to Brooks.
“Are you all going out for a party?” Brigham’s voice snapped me back to reality.
I stiffened, suddenly hyper aware of how little space there was between Brooks and me. “I don’t know if we’re having one,” I said, dragging my gaze away from Brooks and onto Brigham’s overly excited face. “Why?”
He grinned. “I heard a rumor we’re going out tonight. Strip clubs, here we come!”
I exhaled through my nose.Jesus.
Brigs was a couple of drinks in, the slur in his voice borderline concerning. He was one shot away from a full-on rager.
“How about we get some water and talk about it?” I said, leveling him with a look.
Brigs scoffed. “Stop momming me.” He wobbled to his feet, irritated, drunk, dismissive. “We will be seeing some titties and ass at the bachelor party.”
I arched a brow. “Could be men, not women. You never specified.”
Brooks let out a choked laugh, but Brigham just shook his head and wandered off, unbothered.
I exhaled and turned back, only to find Brooks watching me, that damn amused smirk tugging at his lips.
“Well, that was fun,” he murmured.
I shrugged. “Players that young have to learn the hard way.”
Brooks studied me for a beat, his gaze slow, thoughtful. “I take it he drinks like this often?”
“Not often,” I admitted. “But when he does, he gets messy. Stupid messy. It’s amazing he hasn’t had a scandal or gotten photographed doing something idiotic.”
Brooks shifted, leaning on his arms. “And you call him out on it?”
“I don’tyessirhim,” I said simply.
His brow furrowed. “A yesser?”
I swirled the wine in my glass, watching the way the amber light caught the deep red liquid.
“A person who tells youyesno matter what. People with money, power, or fame?” I flicked my eyes to Brigham, now laughing loudly at another table. “They always have someone in their ear telling them exactly what they want to hear. Brigs has a few, and they lead him into bad decisions.”
Like the time he got into drugs last year. I cringed at the memory and downed the rest of my wine. I wasn’t going to the after-party. I had work. I had responsibilities. I had reasons to keep my head clear.
“You going with them?” I asked Brooks.
“I hadn’t planned on it,” he said, but his attention was too focused on me now, shifting from my eyes to my mouth, back to my eyes again.
He was piecing me together. Trying to figure me out.
His voice dipped lower. “I planned on taking you home like a gentleman. But why do you ask?”
I hesitated. Because if Brooks was anything, it was honest. If he said he was taking me home, he meant it was already decided.
