Page 72 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

It makes me shiver.

We lie together, legs entangled as we come down and catch our breath. Beau’s skin is warm against mine, a welcome contrast to the slightly chilly floor. For one quiet moment, everything almost feels okay. Like maybe we can survive this. He pulls me against him, into the crook of his arm, and I let him.

After a long time, Beau rolls away from me, muttering that he should go.

He looks over at me like he’s making sure I’m still there. Waiting for me to say something to stop him, but I can’t. He knows I can’t.

Then he gets up and gets dressed. His jeans, shoes, underwear are in here. He has to walk out to the café to get the T-shirt I threw. I can’t see him pull it on from my angle on the floor, but I can see him glance back at me once.

I hope and don’t hope that he decides we need to talk.

But he disappears instead. I hear footsteps followed by the chime of the bell as he opens the front door and walks out.

Beau leaves first.

He always leaves first.

I lie on the floor of my own coffeeshop with my underwear in a pile somewhere by the espresso machine and the smell of him still on my skin, and I understand for the first time what temporary really means. It means I'm always the one left counting his footsteps as they go.

25

BRINLEY

“Hey, uh, Brinley?”

I look up from the beans I’m grinding. “What?”

Trevor recoils, and I realize I’ve just snapped at him. Shit.

“Sorry, Trevor, I didn’t mean to yell. My mind was just on other stuff. What’s up?”

“It’s 2:30, and you still haven’t taken a lunch break,” he says, looking down at the floor. “I’m leaving in half an hour, so I thought maybe you…should?”

“Oh. Right.” I shoot him the biggest smile I can. “That would be great. Thanks for asking, Trevor.”

His cheeks turn pink and he ducks his head. “No problem. Happy to help.”

I pat him on the shoulder. Even though Trevor’s crush on me can be a little annoying to ignore, he really is a sweet guy. Grabbing a ham and cheese croissant, I head back to my office to eat. Normally, I’m ready for lunch at noon on the dot. All the anxiety of the Peppermint situation and my nonanswer to I love you has shut down my appetite, leaving me more numb than anything.

Still, I force myself to take a bite of the croissant, which tastes like wet cardboard. It’s not the croissant’s fault. Breakfast tasted weird, too. It’s like my body is rejecting anything other than anxious thoughts.

Taking another bite, I open the group chat with the girls.

Pippa

Okay team, we really need to lock down dates for the baby showers.

Maura, you’re due first so you party first.

Maura

I don’t really need anything big.

Pippa

Tough. We’re throwing you a big crazy party because we love you and we can!

Maura