Page 28 of Break Out

I open my eyes. He’s standing at the foot of the bed, a pillow in his hands. He’s changed into a pair of gray athletic shorts much like the ones he gave me that are now discarded on the other side of the bed. I contemplated keeping them on to sleep in but decided against it. I figured I’ll be under the covers the whole night, so it’s not like he’ll see my underwear. That and his shirt is practically a dress on me.

I sigh. I can’t make him sleep on the couch. I just can’t. Between it not being comfortable and it being too short for him, he’ll be miserable.

He’s here pretending to be my fake boyfriend to help me out. He’s sacrificing his precious time off for me. The least I can do is let him sleep in the bed. Besides, it’s king-size. There’s plenty of room for both of us to have our own space and not be on top of each other.

“Come on.” I reach over and pull back the edge of the comforter, nodding toward the side closest to him.

“Aubrey.” Brody stares at me, not moving.

“Brody, get in. There’s plenty of room, and like you said, we’re adults. We can share a bed.”

He stares at me, running a hand through his hair, and for a minute I think he’s going to argue and insist on sleeping on the couch. But he doesn’t. He sets his pillow down and climbs into bed, letting out a moan as he sinks into the mattress. I’d be lying if I said the sound of him moaning didn’t send a shiver down my spine.

“Man, this bed is comfortable. That or I’m old and really exhausted from all the travel.”

“It sure is. If you’re old, then that makes me old too.”

Brody laughs, a deep rumble that goes right to my core. What the fuck is wrong with me? I take a deep breath, which is a big mistake because now my senses are flooded with the smell of pine and cedar. I close my eyes and roll over so my back is to Brody’s side of the bed.

He shifts around a little before he whispers, “Good night, Aubrey.”

Chapter thirteen

Brody

My eyes snap open, and I’m slightly confused to feel a leg over mine and a hand on my arm until I remember that I’m in Key West.

With Aubrey.

Pretending to be her fake boyfriend. And we’re sharing a bed. Because someone—her mom most likely, regardless of what the clerk said—decided to upgrade us to a suite with one bed. The clock shows it’s a little after six. I groan silently, wishing I’d been able to sleep in longer.

I watch her sleep for a minute, wishing I could lean over and kiss her awake. Last night was only the first night and the lines are already beginning to blur. I take a deep breath and gently extract myself. Aubrey sighs in her sleep and rolls closer. I say a silent prayer that she doesn’t wake up. Just because I’m awake this early doesn’t mean she needs to be too.

When it’s clear that she’s still sound asleep, I get out of bed and dress in gym clothes. I remember seeing signs for a fitness center when we were checking in. A run sounds like just what I need, a distraction from my thoughts about my best friend. Thoughts I have no business thinking.

Dressed, I make my way quietly out of the room and head for the elevators. The lobby is quiet, and the fitness center is empty. It’s about the size of our suite, maybe smaller. A treadmill sits in front of the one small window, a stationary bike next to it in the corner, and the other wall is taken up by some random machines, stands of free weights, and a bench. I take a few minutes to stretch before hopping on the treadmill, shoving my headphones in, and starting my favorite playlist. A few miles should help to burn off some of this weird energy I woke up with.

An hour and a half later, I’m stepping off the elevator on our floor. It wasn’t the best workout, but at least it was something. After a five-mile run, I used the free weights to do an upper body workout and finished up with more stretching. I even located a foam roller and spent some time foam rolling my legs. Anything to keep me occupied and away from where Aubrey is sleeping so I don’t do something rash. She’s made it perfectly clear that she only wants to be friends. Using my key card, I let myself back into the room.

“Hey,” Aubrey greets me with a smile, her legs tucked up under her on the couch, wearing my shirt—that she looks so fucking good in—a cup of coffee in her hands.

“Morning.”

“There’s coffee over there,” she says, pointing at the room service cart against the wall near the kitchen. “I got some breakfast too. I know we’re having brunch with everyone but it’s not until eleven. I don’t know about you, but I’ll be starving by then.”

“Good idea. I’m going to go shower first.” I hook a thumb toward the bathroom.

“Okay.” Aubrey takes a sip from her coffee mug.

Ten minutes later, I’m showered and dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a faded Marlins shirt. As I’m hanging up my towel, I hear Aubrey’s voice in the other room. At first, I think she’s talking to me but then I realize she must be on the phone.

“Okay. Thank you,” she says, hanging up as I make my way out of the bedroom. Suddenly starving, I walk over to the room service cart to pour myself a cup of coffee and check out the food options.

“That was the front desk. The airline found my bag and dropped it off a few hours ago. It’s downstairs. Someone is bringing it up,” Aubrey pipes up.

“That’s great.” I say serving myself a couple of hard-boiled eggs and some mixed fruit.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted,” she says as I walk over to her with my plate and coffee. “And I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”