But when I can look at a man as a distraction?
I hit send and flop back on the fluffy white bedding.
My phone chimes a moment later. I stare at the ceiling, thinking about Vaughn Coleman’s glasses. Then I think about Josh. I breathe through that ache in my throat again, then reach for my phone. The reply isn’t from Noa.
Hey Brooklyn.
It’s Shaw. Chris.
Are you still around?
A sudden warmth settles in my stomach, an odd sense of relief mixed with something else I can’t really name at the moment. I was putting off texting him and Vaughn. I’m glad he’s reached out first.
Hey. Yeah.
I’m going to lay in this bed
all day probably.
What’s going on?
If you’re cool with it, I’d like to see you.
Just me and you.
A different kind of lump lodges itself in my throat. It could be nothing, but it feels like something. I say yes.
I’ll be there in an hour.
K. I’ll put on pants.
You don’t have to.
I know then that I absolutely have to. He might be flirting, but I don’t trust my judgement, so I save the jokes and don’t respond. I shower and get dressed and do my five-minute face. I glue my wig back down and adjust my baby hairs just so. Then I search for a breakfast spot within walking distance. An hour later, down to the minute, there’s a knock on my door. I open it and there is Christopher Shaw, somehow better looking than the night before. Same letterman jacket, different sweater. This one is a black and grey argyle and he’s wearing dark-wash jeans that fit him perfectly over a pair of fresh sneakers. I have no plan to let him inside. I’m rushing him out of this hotel and we’re going to talk over some French toast and burnt coffee.
“Hey, Chris,” I say as I step toward him. I expect him to back up as I go on. “I found this place called Breakers—”
Chris doesn’t move. Instead he becomes this wall of man and muscle. I barely avoid walking right into him, but I don’t back away as he looks down at me. His gaze roams over my face as his tongue slips out and wets his lower lip. I don’t even think about stopping him as his strong, rough hand slides gently under my hair and up the side of my neck. I just focus on not passing out or blurting some stupid shit because I know that will stop him from doing what I want him to do next. My eyes drop to his perfect, full lips framed by his perfectly manicured beard and mustache. I think about tugging on his beard and pulling him closer. Before I can lift a finger, he’s kissing me.
His lips move against mine and I completely give in, kissing him back. He teases my tongue with his and I let him. I perch up on my toes and try to reach the altitude where he resides. I press my tits against his chest and do my best not to moan as my nipples ache for direct contact. His other hand slides around my back, under my coat. He grips my ass and pulls me closer. The position is wrong, but if it weren't for the height difference and the way he’s bending down to meet me halfway, I know I’d be able to feel his cock hardening against my stomach. When he pulls away, we both have a hard time breathing. I look up at him, my lungs craving more of his woodsy soap smell. He moves his thumb to my lower lip and my pussy clenches hard on itself as my tongue darts out and licks the pad of his skin. His nostrils flare when I do it again. He swallows and then he speaks.
“Call me Shaw.”
Five
Shaw
“What are we doing here, Shaw?” Brooklyn says. She looks up at me, her gaze still hazy as her focus drifts back down to my lips. I want to kiss her again, but I’ve already fucked things up. When I told Vaughn I just wanted to come talk to Brooklyn Lewis, we both knew I was lying. I did want to apologize to her for the way I came at her the night before. We smoothed things out, but I’d stepped into her hotel room sideways and it took way too long for me to get my shit together. I’m still trying to cope with my own grief and not to lash out at Vaughn when things get to be too much.
But the apology was only part of it. I wanted to see her again. Losing Corrine destroyed me. I didn’t realize until last night that my grief was turning me into a special kind of an asshole.
“I came here to apologize.” I say as I drop my hand from her neck. I don’t step back. I’m not ready to leave her space. Brooklyn frowns, dropping her gaze as she starts to smooth my sweater over my chest. My muscles jump under her touch.
“Apology accepted, but what are you apologizing for?”
“For last night. I thought Vaughn was kidding himself about a whole bunch of shit. I didn’t understand why he wanted to see you. And I didn’t understand what I was feeling about it. I shouldn’t have bugged out on you.”
“I appreciate you saying that, but I still don’t know what you mean. Can we go get breakfast and you can explain it to me?”
