“I’m assuming the huge grin on your face means Lana said yes?” Brooks asks. We’re parked down the street from my dad’s house.
“Yes! Their apartment is pretty small, so if you don’t want to sleep on a couch or air mattress, then you can look for a hotel. But I’m totally staying withthem,” I say.
“Like I’m gonna miss out on the fun? I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to,” Brooks replies, eyes alight.
No hotels necessary. Brooks is down for sleeping wherever so we can hang with you guys the whole time! Could you pick us up from the airport at 11 a.m.?
LANA
Absolutely. Text me your flight info once you have it
LANA
I’M SO EXCITED
Same!!!
“Tickets are booked,” Brooks says, showing me his phone screen. "I’ll need to pick you up to head to the airport around six-thirty in the morning. Sure you can pull that off, Aurora?”
He smirks, and I punch him in the arm. He grabs my hand before I can pull back my punch and tugs me toward him. My head comes to rest against his shoulder, and I nuzzle my face into his neck. His fingers reach up to lazily wind their way through my hair.
Brooks nudges my chin with his thumb, tilting my head back to make eye contact.
“Thank you.”
The words are quiet and solitary. I know the full weight behind those eight letters, just as much as I know Brooks isn’t going to expound further.
I reach my right hand up to trace his jawline, then gently press my finger into the cleft of his chin. There’s a layer of stubble there that’s a contrast to Brooks’ typically clean-shaven face. Further evidence of the emotional toll of this weekend that we aren’t speaking aloud. I see it all in his eyes, even in the darkness of the car interior.
Leaning forward, I erase the inches of distance between our lips. The stubble I traced with my fingers now pricks my chin, accentuatingthe softness of Brooks’ lips against mine. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me as close to him as the car console will allow.
Brooks breaks away from my lips long enough to sear a burning path along my jaw, behind my ear, down my neck. When his lips return to mine, there’s an urgency to the press of his mouth. As though this kiss was the balm to heal all the pain of this day.
The pain ofallthe years apart from each other.
I never want it to end. I’ll forgo oxygen, sleep, food, water—all of life’s supposed necessities—if it means I can stay here in the intoxication of Brooks’ kiss.
But we both know it needs to end before it doesn’t. We simultaneously pull away from each other. As the car fills with the sound of our heavy breaths, I see Brooks trying and failing to formulate words.
“I better get some sleep if I’m going to make it to our flight in the morning. Sleeping Beauty needed sleep for a reason,” I joke. Brooks gives a half smile, then pulls me into a gentle hug. Once again burying my face under his chin, I breathe a kiss onto his neck before sitting up. He puts the car into drive and takes my hand for the short distance to my dad’s driveway.
“Six-thirty sharp, Sneaks. Don’t make me come in there with a bucket of ice,” Brooks threatens, the mischievous spark back in his eyes. I flick his arm before opening the car door.
“Trust me—I’m not going to be late for the chance to see one of my Beefs in person,” I say. I move to retrieve my bag from the back seat, but Brooks has somehow beat me to it.
“I’ll walk you up to the door and say hi to your dad,” he says. “Seems like the gentlemanly thing to do.”
As we step into the entryway, I call out, “Dad! I’m here!” Footsteps immediately sound, and my dad rounds the corner, still dressed in jeans and a polo shirt despite the late hour. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my dad in sweats, come to think of it.
Dad’s smile stays put at the sight of Brooks with me, thanks to my lengthy explanation of our relationship on Christmas Day. I learned my lesson about the men in my life being blind-sided by the reappearance of Brooks.
He extends a hand toward Brooks, who shakes it firmly. “Good to see you, Mr. Jones.”
“You too, Brooks. I’m glad about how things have worked out. And call me Morgan,” my dad responds.
“I’m not staying, but I wanted to say hello,” Brooks tells him before turning to me. “See you tomorrow.” He places a swift kiss on my cheek, entirely sweet and chaste in front of my dad. But that doesn’t mean my skin doesn’t burn afterward.
