Page 54 of Break Out

It’s at that moment that I hear the bathroom door open. “I gotta go.” I hang up the phone before she can say anything else.

“What are you doing out here?” Brody asks, walking toward me.

“I—I, ah . . .” I clear my throat. Why do I feel the need to lie to him? It’s not like he’s going to care who I was talking to. “I was talking to Summer. My friend from work,” I hastily add, my heart racing. What if he asks me why I was talking to her?

“I know who Summer is. I’ve met her. Remember? That time you two came to a game?”

“Right. That’s right.” I shift from foot to foot. “I should probably get dressed.” I step around him and all but run into the bedroom. I frantically pull on underwear and a bra and hurry to the closet. I fling the door open and start rifling through my clothes for something to wear tonight.

“Hey. What’s going on?” Brody asks, coming up behind me, his hands landing on my shoulders. He gently spins me around, studying my face before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest where I relax into him.

“I’m sorry. I’m panicking.”

He rubs my back in small circles. “Because of dinner? I think we have plenty of time to get ready and get there on time.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m panicking because we had sex and I don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” I admit.

“Hey. It won’t, Aubrey. I promise. Look at me.” He pauses and I do as he asks, meeting his gaze. “I promise you I will not let it ruin our friendship. How about we get through dinner and we can talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Brody leans in and kisses me gently before pulling back and walking over to the dresser to pull out clothes.

I can’t help staring at him, at the way his muscles flex and move as he pulls on a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. At how it felt earlier having his dick deep inside of me, filling me up. The dirty things he said to me. The sounds he made when he came.

“Is this outfit okay?” he asks, spinning back around to face me. His eyes widen when he sees me still standing in my bra and underwear. “Were you watching me, beautiful?” He stalks over. “I thought you were going to get dressed, but you’re over here still half naked,” he says before kissing me.

“I—I got distracted.”

“Whatever you were thinking”—he dips down so he can whisper in my ear, his warm breath giving me goosebumps—“save it for later. If you tell me now, we won’t make it to dinner.”

“I—I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“You were blushing, which means you were thinking something dirty. I’d ask you to share it with me, but we have somewhere to be. The last thing I want is for your mother to flip if we don’t make it or we’re late.” With that, he steps back, and I immediately miss his warmth.

I whirl around and resume my hunt for something to wear. I settle on a navy sundress with cap sleeves and tiny flowers all over it. It comes down to mid calf, but it has a slit up the side that makes me feel sexy. Not something I’d normally wear, but Summer insisted I try it on when we went shopping, and I fell in love with it. It takes me ten minutes to apply some light makeup, braid my hair, and add a pair of small silver studs and a matching necklace. I grab a clutch, shove my room key, ChapStick, driver’s license, and a credit card into it, then find Brody, who’s on the couch engrossed in SportsCenter.

“You ready?” I ask, slipping into my sandals.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Brody says, turning off the television and finally looking up at me. “Hot damn, Aubrey.”

I blush under his gaze.

“You okay?” he asks a few minutes later, his hand on my lower back as we step off the elevator and make our way toward the ballroom where we had brunch yesterday.

“Fine. Fine.”

“I’m right here,” he says, removing his hand from my back and entwining our fingers. The sight of his much larger hand wrapped around mine makes me grin.

“Let’s do this.”

We turn the corner and walk inside. I’m taken aback by the complete transformation. It doesn’t feel like we’re in the same ballroom as yesterday.

The lights are dimmed, and a string quartet plays in the corner. The large round tables have been replaced with smaller, more intimate tables of varying sizes, which are scattered around the room. Each is adorned with a light pink tablecloth, a vase of flowers, and tea candles.

“Wow,” Brody whispers under his breath.

I don’t have time to respond as Clara comes toward us, dressed in a knee-length pale-pink dress, her blonde hair twisted up into a fancy updo.