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“Back to the models and one-night stands, right?” Rowan snickers, and I tense up. How fucking dare he?
“For fuck’s sake, Ro. What is your problem?”
“Just keeping it real, Rosie. He’s not exactly a saint, how did you really think this was going to play out?”
“Do you always have to shit on my happiness? Why can’t you just leave us alone? Leave me alone?”
“I’m just looking out for you! I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into,” he defends, looking like he’s the one who is being unfairly chewed out.
“We’re figuring things out together. We’ll be fine, but thanks for your concern,” Brody says calmly, though part of me wishes he would punch him.
“Does that mean you’re a thing? You and my sister?” Rowan pushes and I grit my teeth. He just can’t leave it alone.
“Yes, it does,” Brody says, without hesitation. He lifts my palm to his lips and places a lingering kiss there, looking me in the eyes as he does so. His eyes are so sincere and it’s messing with my head.
I mean the thought of him leaving has me in knots. But Rowan isn’t wrong. We are from two completely different worlds. He has women throwing themselves at him daily. Can I compete with that? Better yet, do I want to? Some things are too good to be true, and I’d be naïve to fall for anyone like this all over again.
Brody and Rowan have moved on to more safe topics and are discussing his upcoming race and if he thinks he can hold off his teammate in the championship battle.
Shaking my head, I try to ignore the myriad of mixed feelings threatening to pull me under and force a smile.
When Rowan leaves, Brody turns to me and smiles. “You okay, sweetheart? You seem a little quiet,” he says, while running a hand up and down my arm in a soothing gesture.
“I’m fine, just tired,” I lie, looking down. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Sounds good, your place or mine?” he jokes, stretching himself out as he stands. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
As we pull onto my street, Brody asks, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Sighing, I bite the bullet and decide to lay it all out on the table.
“Are we really a thing? Or did you just say that to get my brother off our case?” I ask the question that has been playing on my mind all evening.
He reaches over and holds my face in his hand, the contact making me feel a little lighter. His eyes pierce into me, the rest of the world fading away. All there is right now is him and me.
“I want us to be a thing, Rosie. But you need to make the choice too. Do you want to be with me?” he asks, his eyes locked on mine, shining with hope and sincerity.
“I want to, I really do. But how can we make it work if we’ll barely see each other? You’ll be halfway around the world and, besides, you said yourself. The last thing you need is the distraction of a relationship.” The words tumble out of me with no filter, my biggest worries being put out there.
“Fuck, I want to make this work, okay?” He takes my hand in his as he continues, “I’m not saying it will be easy, nothing worth having ever is. But I’ve never wanted anything more than for this to work. Not a drive, not a championship. I want you, Rosie. But I need to know you want it too. And if you do, I need you to trust me.” The circles his thumb is making on my palm go some way to soothe me, as does the honesty and determination in his voice.
“I do. I want this to work. And I promise I am trying to trust more. It’s not the easiest thing for me to do. Not with what’s happened in the past. But I want to be with you, Brody.”
“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he says, pulling me in and devouring me. The moment his lips touch mine, I combust. I need his touch more than my next breath. I kiss him back with everything I have and unbuckle my seat belt so I can climb into his lap.
Squeezing my ass, he laughs against my lips, “Let’s go inside. I need more room to devour every inch of you.”
No arguments from me.
Chapter Sixteen
“Where are you taking me?” I ask again, watching the world passing by outside the car window.
“Patience, little grasshopper. All shall be revealed shortly,” he laughs as he looks over at me through his aviators. There’s something about a guy in jeans and a white tee that messes with women’s hormones. He looks edible.
Grumbling, I lean back in my seat and act petulant. I hate surprises, but knowing Brody’s arranged it, I’m positive I’ll love this one.
We take another turn and I spot the sign and gasp. No way.
