She studies my expression, and I hold my breath, waiting for the verdict.
“Friday,” she agrees.
I slide my hand into her hair, bringing my lips to hers for a deep but quick kiss. When I pull back, her eyes are still closed, mouth parted, like she wasn’t ready for it to end yet. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to dive back in, but that’s not all I want from her, and I need her to know it.
“Friday,” I repeat with that same uncontrollable smile painted across my face.
It can’t come soon enough.
Chapter 22
Isla
Iwakethenextmorning,still feeling like I’m half-dreaming as my mind replays the events from the night before.
Wes recounting the moment he first laid eyes on me with such clarity as if it happened last week rather than fourteen years ago. Wes warning Chip to watch what he says to me. Wes entwining his hand with mine like we were a team. I can still hear the words,Knees here, Red, in his deep-voiced command and the groans that spilled from his lips when I traced my tongue up his shaft.
Wes set off an earthquake through my world last night, an exhilarating and terrifying development that my mind hasn’t fully wrapped itself around.
Brooks walks into the apartment as I reach the coffee machine, rescuing me from the dangerous direction of my thoughts. Sweat covers his gray tank, and he’s still breathing hard from his run.
“Why didn’t you wake me? I would’ve gone with you,” I say.
He pulls out his earbuds, depositing them into their case. “Thought you could use the extra sleep after last night’s fiasco. Plus, don’t you have practice this morning?”
I turn from him, placing the coffee cup into the machine and clicking the brew button. “No, I’ve got a couple skating lessons this morning, including one with Thea.”
He lets out a sharp laugh. “By the way, that man is so fucking in love with you.”
The words land like a hard shove to my chest. “What?”
“Wes was practically shouting it at the dinner table last night. Don’t pretend that you don’t see it.”
I make apffftsound, focusing entirely on the coffee in my cup. “He is not. It was just for show.”
Spencer’s warning to walk away if Wes gets too attached before I break his heart seemed ludicrous at the time, but so much has changed between Wes and me.
“Isla.”
“Brooks,” I mock. I fling an arm out toward him. “I’ve never seen you in love with anyone, so how would you know?”
“Not seeing it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
My brother has always been quiet about his love life, even when I pushed him on it. He’s never been serious about any woman as far as I know.
“Are you saying there’s someone in your life?”
He slumps against the doorframe of his bedroom. “What a loaded question.” I remain quiet, hoping he’ll continue because from the way his lips twist into a grimace, he needs to talk. “You remember that assistant coaching gig at UPC?”
I nod. Brooks excitedly told me about the possibility of coaching for his alma mater weeks ago but when he didn’t give me an update, I assumed it didn’t pan out for him.
“Well, I got it.”
“That’s fantastic,” I say, unsure how that connects with the topic at hand.
“Yeah, it’s perfect for me. Except…one of the other assistant coaches and I have history, from college. I’ve never gotten over it.” He sighs, running a hand over his hair. “I’ve never gotten overher.”
The admission stuns me silent. My brother has harbored heartache for more than a decade. It explains why he’s never introduced me to anyone he’s dated.
