“You’re bossy.”
“Wait until I get you in bed again,” I said, without thinking. “Shit. I meant?—”
She held up a hand and pushed on my chest, but there wasn’t any force behind it. She looked up at me, smiling, and shook her head with a small laugh. “I’ve learned a few things since then. I might be me bossingyouaround.”
I groaned and made an exaggerated gesture of biting my fist. “I’m leaving. Thanks for that, Mitch.” I backed up and waited for her to lock her door. Seeing her shitty apartment with a busted doorframe pissed me off, but I let her have her independence. For now.
After making sure Brigs didn’t make an ass of himself, I’d come back and double-check that she was okay.
9
Michelle
Stress was nota good look on me. It made my skin paler, the bags under my eyes darker, and my poor neck would surely break from tension. It didn’t matter that I slept with a chair propped up under the lock or that I cuddled with a baseball bat.
It wasn’t the first time the asshole had wanted something from me, and it wouldn’t be the last. Relying on Brooks would provide an escape and needy wasn’t something I could afford.But he would help.
I shook my head to clear thoughts like that. They were dangerous. The morning sun hit my bedroom just right, and I used the momentary peace to catch up on schoolwork. The restaurant had given me the day off for the wedding, and clinicals weren’t until Monday, so a slow morning was welcome. My study routine involved hard rock music and caffeine, and I almost cried at the empty bag of coffee. “Fucking shit.”
I rubbed my forehead with my hands and accepted my reality. I’d have to go out to get coffee if I wanted to function today—I didn’t have a choice. Tossing on clean leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, I ignored the ball of nerves in my stomach. There wasn’t any cash lying around to be stolen, and I always hid my laptop behind cleaning supplies under the sink. Ifhewanted to break in again, there was nothing for him.
The taste of escaping my family was so close. I had to finish school and graduate, get a full-time nursing job, and move out of this shithole place. Reaching my goal was closer than it had ever been, and staying focused on that was essential. Despite the joy and happiness Brooks radiated—wait. I locked the front door and frowned at the familiar car parked on the street. It was way too similar to Brooks’s andwhat the hell?
A large man was slumped over the wheel, and my heart hammered to the point that it hurt to breathe.Is he hurt? He can’t be. No.I sprinted toward the car and pounded on the window, desperately trying to open the door.
A few people on a walk looked my way, but I didn’t give a shit. If he was hurt because of my family…
“Brooks, get up. Get up!” I tried the door again and about cried when he jerked into an upright position and opened his eyes. He fumbled with the lock and pushed open the door with a panicked expression on his face.
“What is it? Are you okay?” he asked, putting his hands on my face and shoulders, searching the scene behind me as I rested my head on his chest. “Michelle, what…what happened?”
“I thought… I thought my brother hurt you. You were slumped in the car and… Why are you here?” I asked, looking up. Relief flowed through me. It was inexplicable as to why I felt this fucking happy that he was okay. My knees shook at the weight of it.
“Look,” he said, moving one hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “Brigs was fine. I went out, but I wanted to check on you after seeing your door broken.”
“So you slept in your car?” My voice came out an octave too high.
“I didn’t mean to.” He moved away from me, and the loss of contact made me colder. Stupidly so. “Christ.” He cleared his throat and tilted his head from side to side, stretching his neck until he cracked—that was in no way supposed to be attractive, but it was.
“Brooks,” I said, unsure what I wanted to tell him.Thank youseemed stupid andtouchedfelt too mushy. “I’m fine,” was all I could get out without jumping on him and hugging him for three hours. “Really.”
He made a noncommittal face, and his gaze went to my apartment door. “Let me get your door fixed, at least.”
“I left a work order for my landlord.” I crossed my arms over my sweater, unsure what to do with my hands because the more I stared at Brooks, the more I wanted to throw my rules out of the goddamn window. “He’ll get to it.”
“Mm.” He didn’t look convinced, and he eyed his watch. “Where are you off to this early?”
“Caffeine.” I laughed. “I meant, coffee. I need caffeine, and I like to consume it via coffee.”
The corners of his lips turned up, and that smile combined with his just-woken-up look was too much for me to handle. He let out a soft chuckle and jutted his chin toward his car. “Can I tag along? I’ll drive.”
“Sure,” I said, unsure of how to manage the butterflies overtaking my stomach. It felt like my first crush before my dad had gotten into all his shit and ruined any sense of normalcy. “My treat, though.”
We drove down the road to Annette’s, a hole-in-the-wall coffee place. Annette was eighty years old and had worked there every single day I had ever visited, and the chipped red wallpaper comforted me instead of put me off. Service was her specialty, not appearances, and I waved at her when Brooks ushered me through the door. “Hey, Annette.”
“Michelle,” she said, smiling as her gaze landed on Brooks. “Who is he?”
“Brooks Madsen, ma’am,” he said, reaching over the counter to shake her hand. “Nice setup you got here.”
