Matt & Brooklyn: A Standalone in the "Again for the First Time" Family Saga (AFTFT Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: Matt & Brooklyn: A Standalone in the "Again for the First Time" Family Saga (AFTFT Book 2)
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“This is stupid,”
I said to myself, inching toward the edge of my bed.
All I’d been thinking about all day was how badly I wanted to spend time with her. Now, here we were under the same roof, hanging out in separate rooms.

Did I still feel kind of off about what I did earlier? Yeah, but I refused to spend our time like this—distant, uncomfortable.

Despite what others say about her, Brook was not the Boogie Man. She wasn’t the Big Bad Wolf. So why in the hell was I hiding in my room like she was? There’d never been a woman who affected me like this, but then again, I’d been different with Brook since the moment I first laid eyes on her through my computer screen. I’d been filming at her sister’s apartment that day, hiding out from everyone in Lissy’s bedroom, watching everything from my laptop. Aside from the footage of the random proposals I’d forced my brother, Luke, to give, this was my first day of actually filming. It was the day Luke and Lissy chose to let her family know they were in a relationship—a very untraditional relationship, but they had to move things along quickly before their impending wedding, which was only a couple weeks away at that time.

Lissy’s family arrived a few members at a time and, among the first, was Brooklyn. That image of her is carved into my mind to the point that I still remember what she was wearing—a loose-fitting, white top and jeans. I remember sitting there with my mouth open as I watched her through the monitor. Without thinking, I sent my brother a text about how hot she was and then probably paid more attention to
her
that night than Luke and Lissy, the subjects of the film itself. I couldn’t help myself, though; she made such an impression on me just that quickly. It wasn’t all physical or sexual attraction—while that was definitely present, too—it was something more, something deeper.

Realizing that the thick layer of tension that had formed between us throughout the evening wasn’t going to get rid of itself, I decided to be the one to do it. I made up my mind that I’d go to Brook’s door and just
force
things to go back to normal—talk about… well…
anything,
really, as long as this weirdness between us went away. However, a light knock changed my plans just as I was about to get to my feet. Standing there, peering through the sliver of space between my door and the frame, was Brook.

“Can I come in?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

She didn’t hesitate to enter and I made my observation of her brief as she crossed the threshold wearing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt—her typical sleep attire. I bent my leg to move it out of the way when she approached my bed to sit.

This was good. She seemed comfortable.

Plopping down on my comforter, she tucked her ankle beneath her, clasping both hands in her lap.

Her eyes were on me and I stared into them. “You’ve got it made here. You know that?” Her tone was casual.

I laughed a little. “Random. Were you sitting in your room thinking about that?” I asked.

“No, but I mean… you’ve totally got the best of both worlds—a touch of city life with the beach at your disposal.” She zoned out with a look of contentment on her face. “Makes me wish I could stay longer.”

There it was again, her mentioning that she’d stay here if she could. The thought of her doing just that, sticking around longer, left me imagining it. “What’s stopping you?” I asked, thinking she could honestly squeeze another week or two out of this visit. “I definitely have the space and your job doesn’t start for a while.”

A hint of red stained her cheeks and she pushed her hair behind her ears again, although it was already in place. “I would if I could,” she started. “TaLia’s supposed to be coming to stay with me for a little while, though. I’m afraid she and Bean might kill each other if I don’t separate them for a while,” she added, laughing.

“What’s going on?”

She blew out a breath and then leaned back, pressing her palms deep into my comforter. “I think it’s mostly Lia being a teenager—moody, thinks she knows everything—but I think there might also be some other stuff fueling it. I’ll probably get to the bottom of it while she’s staying with me.”

The troubled look on Brook’s face had me listening more intently.

“For one, Bean’s ex, Chris, seems to be back in the picture. He even showed up at my party.” She zoned out while staring at the wall ahead of her. “Just… out the blue. I swear, a few months ago, Bean was having trouble just getting him to show up to spend time with the kids when he was scheduled to. Now, from the looks of it anyway, they’re getting along again.” A loaded pause filled the space between us. “I think that’s what’s wrong with Lia.”

That made since. The James’s weren’t big on talking about one another’s business outside of the family, so I knew Brook had to really be bothered by this to share it with me. Not only did she care about how all of this could potentially affect her sister, but her niece and nephew as well. I wasn’t sure of Bernadine’s history with this Chris guy, but I’d heard her mention him a time or two at family get-togethers and it was never in a positive light.

Brook sighed. “Of course I won’t know if that’s the problem until Lia and I actually talk, but I’m pretty sure I figured it out. That’s why I’m having her spend some time with me. Whatever she’s dealing with, she hasn’t been letting Bean in, so maybe I’ll have different results. I just wanna make sure she’s okay, that they’re
all
okay,” she amended.

Because of this, her family needing her, I knew not to push to keep her here longer even though I would’ve loved that. Family was a big deal to both of us, so I completely understood the urgency to get back to Lindmore.

“Have you talked to Nick lately?” she asked, looking my way when she did. Apparently, discussing her
own
family issues made her think of mine.

I nodded. “Briefly. Earlier today.” My mind went back to that conversation and I found myself feeling sorry for him, although I knew most of this,
all
of this, had been brought on by his own actions. The lying? The cheating? It always catches up with you, but for some reason he thought the rules didn’t apply to him. He couldn’t seem to get it under control. Realizing he still needed someone to check in on him, I ended with, “But I’ll probably call him tomorrow.”

I still hadn’t let Brook in on the news I received about my film today, mostly because I was pretty sure it was a dead issue. We didn’t keep secrets from one another, though. If anything, she might actually be able to make me see this in a light I hadn’t before, or at least make me find peace with the decision not to move forward with it.

“So… Glastenburg wants me to do another documentary,” I said in one long breath.

Her face twisted into a frown, probably wondering why news like that didn’t excite me.

“I get the feeling I’m missing something,” she said.

“It’s Nick,” I added. “The documentary Glastenburg wants would be a continuation of the first and I can’t commit because of my brother.”

It stung even more admitting that out loud.

Brook sat in silence. I assumed she was unsure of what to say based on the blank stare on her face.

“I have three choices,” I went on. “Either I figure out a way to film it without him, shoot the film with him in it and just see what happens, or opt out completely. Right now, option three is the only one that seems feasible. I mean, I know Nick would jump on the opportunity to do it based on the payout, but…” I paused and felt the finality of this missed opportunity as it slipped through my fingers. “…I can’t do that to him.”

Warmth from Brook’s hand went through my sweats when she touched my knee. It was a simple gesture, but she had my attention all the same. The emotion behind her eyes was heavy. She felt what I felt. Always did.

“I’m so sorry. It’s hard being faced with these kinds of decisions.” Her hand slipped away. “No one should have to choose between their dream and their family,” she added solemnly.

The thing was, I felt like the choice was out of my hands; the decision had already been made for me. Wanting to move on to another topic, something more positive, I shrugged off the disappointment—or at least pretended to. “It’s fine,” I lied. “Something else will come along.”

Brook perked up. “Absolutely! Plus, you’ve got this Pete Nelson thing that’s happening. Watch, these people are gonna be beating down your door after that,” she assured me.

I smiled and tried like hell to be as enthusiastic as she was, but there’s nothing like seeing your
own
dream made a reality. No matter how I looked at it, working with Pete wasn’t the better of the two opportunities.

Brook yawned and settled onto my bed a bit more casually, turning over onto her side with her head propped up on her fist. I smiled at that, at her getting more comfortable. Once or twice, she’d come by my apartment in Lindmore to chill and it was never awkward. As I watched her zoning out now, looking like she’d drift off, I found myself missing those times way more than I had allowed myself to miss them since moving here.

To break up the silence, I reached for the remote and turned on the stereo in the corner. The last song I’d been listening to in my playlist came on and Brook immediately started smiling.

“You and your country music.” She shook her head and I smiled along with her.

“What’s with you always hating on my music choices? I swear some of the realest lyrics you’ll ever hear come from country artists.”

“I’m not hating on it,” she said through a smile. “It’s actually started to grow on me over the years because I’ve been forced to listen to it so much when I’m around you.”

“Forced to listen to it,” I repeated, laughing.

“You
do
force me!” she insisted. “I’m pretty sure it’s all been part of your mission to turn me into a fan.”

I laughed because there was some truth to that. I was convinced that
anyone
could get into it if they just gave it a chance.

“I’ll have you know that blasting my country music and keeping my raggedy truck has kept my neighbors away. I’m pretty sure they think I’m some uncivilized hillbilly who lucked up on a bag of money or something.”

She burst out laughing. “Are you the neighborhood Jethro Clampett?” The longer she thought about it, the harder she cracked up, the sound of which had always been contagious.

“Whatever, Brook.”

As she quieted down, she touched my leg again. “I’m sorry. The visual just got stuck in my head, but seriously, I was relieved when I saw you pull up at the airport in that thing,” she admitted.

“Really? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because it meant this place hadn’t changed you too much. Meant you were still you,” she clarified. The look of amusement slipped from her face, being replaced by what I believed to be contentment. “I just really didn’t want to get here and find out that you’d changed on me. Money makes people different sometimes.”

And it did, but I knew I’d never be one of those people. While, yeah, I had more money than I knew what to do with—which was why most of what I’d earned was still sitting in the bank—it would never go to my head.

“Well, now you have me scared to tell you,” I said, chuckling at what I was about to confess.

“Scared to tell me what?” she asked.

My hand went to the back of my neck, preparing to break the news to her. “I uh… I’m actually picking up something new next week, but only because the truck’s been giving me a lot of problems lately. I can’t afford to start missing appointments and meetings because of car trouble when I’m in a position to do something about it.” And it really did come down to that, being responsible. It’d make me look bad to start showing up late to meetings with people,
important
people, because my truck broke down on the express way. My plan was to hang on to it and get it fixed when I had the spare time, but unfortunately that wasn’t something I had a lot of right now.

Brook didn’t seem put off by what I said. Actually, she laughed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about spending money,” she explained. “I was only saying that it was nice to see you the way I remembered you. I guess I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got here and it was good to see that not much had changed.” She looked around my room with a grin. “Aside from you having this incredible house
,
anyway.”

I imagined it would’ve been weird if I’d shown up like some hotshot that day at the airport. Thinking about it, I was happy I hadn’t taken the plunge to upgrade before she came to visit.

“What kind of car you thinking about getting?” she asked, aimlessly running her hand over my cover.

I shrugged. “Who knows? I figured I’d just go down to the lot and see what jumped out at me.” Which was the truth.

“Well, when you
do
decide, send me a pic. That way I won’t be shocked when I come back here and see it,” she joked.

“Will do.”

There was silence and I was grateful the music was on to fill the space.

“So… back to the documentary. You mentioned the possibility of putting a different spin on it?” she asked.

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