I can’t say I blame her, today was a lot for her, physically and mentally thanks to my teasing her all day. I smirk at the thought, and when my dick starts to twitch, I glance down, glaring at it to behave. I’d love nothing more than to have her in my bed tonight, but I also know she needs to sleep. And, hell, so do I. But as I stand here like a creep, watching her sleep, there’s this painful ache I’ve never felt, right in my chest where my heart sits, and suddenly, all I can imagine is what’s going to happen come October when she isn’t here anymore.
Panic and anxiety swirl in my chest, brewing like a summer storm.
Pulling the door closed with a quiet click, I turn and lean back against it, dragging my hands down my face with a heavy sigh because fuck… I think Cam might be right.
CHAPTER 39
POPPY
“You sure you’re okay?”
I look up from my sketch book, meeting Brookes’ eyes, his hand touching my arm where he’s reached out across the aisle of the private jet. Smiling, I nod, which is only when I realize I’ve been staring at the same blank page for, God, I don’t even know how long we’ve been in the air.
“I’m just tired,” I say with a shrug of one shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be tired. You were fast asleep by, like, eight o’clock last night,” Brookes says with a chuckle, his eyebrows bunching together. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
What I don’t tell him is that I absolutely was not fast asleep by eight o’clock last night. In fact, I was wide awake.
When I heard Brookes knock on my bedroom door last night, I closed my eyes and waited with bated breath, hoping he’d give up, turn around, and not slide in behind me like he has been almost every night since Texas. When I heard the door click and his footsteps finally fade off down the corridor, I released the breath I’d been holding. But then I just laid there in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. The last time I checked the clock, it wasafter two. I’m not just tired. I amexhausted, mentally and emotionally.
Last night, when Brookes left me by the front door, needy and wanting him more than I wanted air, I went into my bedroom to shower. But I remembered I had clothes I needed to get out of the dryer. So, I went back. But as I was walking out of the laundry room, I ran into a very irritated and flustered Blake.
I apologized and moved out of his way because I could tell he was in a hurry, but as I was walking back toward my room, he stopped me. And, cornering me in the darkened, empty hallway, his voice low and laced with warning, he told me that I needed to be careful, and then he threatened me. But the worst part is I can’t tell Brookes any of this. God, I can’t tell anyone. And that’s the problem with living a lie; there’s no one to talk to when it comes to the truth.
When we land in Puerto Rico, the drive from the airport to the hotel takes no time at all, and the second we make it inside the lobby of the gorgeous five-star resort, we are immediately accosted by Brookes’ friends, Hannah and Happy, which thankfully takes Brookes’ focus off me, allowing me finally to breathe.
“Oh. My. God!” Hannah exclaims, mid-hug with Brookes, her bright blue gaze landing on me and lighting up as it does. She abruptly shoves Brookes away, causing him to huff an offended laugh, and makes a beeline for me, her beautiful smile growing with every step.
“Poppy?” she practically squeals, yanking me into a bone crushing hug. “I am so glad to finally meet you!”
Smiling probably a little awkwardly, I glance at Brookes, who is smirking at me from over her shoulder as I return her embrace. “It’s so nice to meet you. And… congratulations.”
“Poppy, this is my husband-to-be, Happy.” Hannah reaches over, grabbing Happy’s hand and tugging him closer, and as Ilook up at him, at the two of them side by side, I can’t help but wonder how two people can be so goddamn attractive.
“Hey, Poppy,” Happy says with a lazy, dimpled grin, wrapping me in a quick hug.
“Okay, so,” Hannah begins, “we have you guys in one of the beachside villas. You’re right next door to our friends, Robbie and Fran. Robbie doesn’t drink, and Fran is…” Hannah trails off, glancing at Happy. “Expecting. So they’ll be nice and quiet. Compared to Dallas who you’d probably hear from the other side of the entire island. Apologies in advance for him, by the way, he’s… kind of a lot,” she mutters with an indulgent eye roll.
I can’t help but laugh.
“We’re having a girls’ afternoon.” Hannah grabs my hand and smiles big. “And you guys are… I don’t know… doing boring boys’ things,” she mutters, waving a hand toward Brookes and Happy.
“Golf.” Happy nods, holding his fist up for Brookes.
Brookes bumps his knuckles with Happy’s. “What’s your handicap nowadays?”
“Twenty-three.” Happy smiles smugly.
Brookes scoffs, shaking his head. “How someone who doesn’t know a single thing about golf gets his handicap to a twenty-three in less than a year, I will never fucking understand.”
“I’m a natural,” Happy says with an exaggerated shrug and a cocky a grin. “What can I say?”
“Anyway,” Hannah huffs, flicking her hair and turning back to me. “We’ll all meet up for dinner tonight down on the beach.” She smiles, hugging me again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
My cheeks flush from the attention. “Thanks for having me.”
