Collide southern spark, p.19
Collide: Southern Spark, page 19
Then Magnum. There was not enough time in my day to go over where we started and where we were, and only one thing was certain: I wanted more. His lips stayed in my mind—like I’d just tasted them. Soft and warm—so inviting. When ours touched, and he deepened a kiss, I swore our hearts sped up, beating in time together. I mentally berated myself, rolling my eyes because that only happened in my smut books.
The total feeling of exhilaration—that couldn’t be mistaken. He made me feel alive, safe, and warm. Argh. Perhaps I was certifiably loony and was getting what I deserved for mixing work with pleasure—but what pleasure it was, making all the angst worth it.
“This has been the best so far,” he answered, tearing me away from the daydream and unbuttoning the cuffs on his wrists to show me his arm. The skin finally looked his usual alabaster color, not red and patchy from the constant rain and dreary weather. “Also, here you go.” He passed me a sticky note with a phone number on it. “This is my fiancée’s number. She wants to take you out for lunch one day, but I didn’t want to give her your number without permission.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks,” I said, sticking the note on the corner of the pad. He shrugged and popped another bite in his mouth before walking away.
Who knew helping my sort-of boss with his dry skin would lead to a lunch date?
I did a little happy wiggle in my chair, excited at the prospect and sending her a message. Not that Jenna, Magnum’s mom, and her penis plants weren’t all kinds of amazing, but a girl couldn’t survive on penis plants alone.
Me: Hey, Addie, it’s Brooke. I work with Simon, and he gave me your number.
Addie: *GIF of waving*
Addie: Awesome. Want to grab drinks soon?
Me: Absolutely!
Addie: *GIF of balloons exploding*
Addie: Great. I’ll text you later.
Me: Sounds good.
I dropped the phone back on my desk, halfway standing to tell Magnum when I stopped, frozen on the spot, my eyes wider than a deer in headlights. No—that wasn’t right. Wider than the Gulf of Mexico, the Grand Canyon. Wider than the Pacific Ocean because there, holding the door open for my flipping mother, was Nathan, in all his cocky, three-piece suit attitude. I watched as his eyes darted around the space, taking in the warm colors and almost finished showroom.
He wrinkled his nose like he smelled something disgusting, then held his arm for my mother, who took it with a smile. The open door brought with it a biting breeze, cutting down to my bones and making my stomach churn with unease. This had to be a cruel joke—the universe’s way of saying: Ha! You didn’t actually think I’d let you be happy, right? Foolish girl.
It took him a second to see me—enough time for me to bend my knees, hoping I could dive under my desk before they noticed my presence. That was par for the course with them—I could be ten feet directly in front of their faces, and pairs of eyes would glide over me unseeing. Maybe there was enough time to hightail it out the back door and to my car or at least make it to Maverick’s office where I could beg him to cover for me, saying I’d come down with a serious contagious disease and had to leave immediately.
“Darling, there you are,” my mother cooed, faking some sort of snotty, country-club accent, insinuating a lifestyle far more posh than our modest, three-bedroom house in Aurora would warrant. “What a positively quaint office this is.”
“What are you doing here?” I answered, refusing to look at Nathan and instead focusing on her insincere smile.
“No need to be so short with me, Brooke. I—We were concerned for you. It’s been weeks since you answered the phone, and Nathan here said he’s been positively helpless without you.”
She stepped forward with her arms open, and I moved back, scooting my chair farther away from my desk.
“She’s right, doll,” Nathan added, coming around to the side of my desk and leaning closer. I was smacked in the face with his cologne—a mixture of something spicy and way too expensive. Nothing like the subtle scent of Magnum, who drew me in every time he was near. “You haven’t returned my calls, and I missed you.”
I rolled my eyes, scooting farther away from him and his overpowering scent. “I blocked you. There’s nothing left to talk about.”
“Aww,” he chuckled, leaning on my desk and crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t be like that. I forgive you for taking all those things from our place. It was quite clever, actually, but it’s time to come home.”
“He’s right, Brooke,” Mom added, standing beside him but keeping her posture closed off and ridged. “You’ve proved your point, and now it’s time to come home.”
I huffed, rolling farther back until I touched the wall. It felt like the room was getting smaller, and my vision blurred around the edges with anger. How dare they show up here, at my place of business, where they knew I wouldn’t overreact. My stomach felt sick—the coffee and bagel churning viciously as I struggled to keep calm and figure out how to get them out of this office.
“Plus, can you truly reach your full potential sitting behind a desk in leggings?” she turned her nose at my choice of attire, and I was glad I opted for casual instead of the sweater dress still on my bed. Truthfully, I’d fully intended to wear the outfit. Still, I awoke to a sweet text from Magnum saying he wouldn’t be in until the afternoon, and I wanted to tease him for the maximum amount of time, deciding to wear the outfit tomorrow.
“We’re not doing this here,” I said, standing up and straightening my top.
“Well said, doll,” Nathan said, reaching out and caressing my arm in a way he had no right to do. My vision temporarily went dark as I recoiled seconds later than I meant to, feeling sick his fingers were anywhere near me. “I knew you were smart enough to see the error of your ways. I’d almost given up on you, but your mother talked me into giving you one more chance. Do not disappoint me.”
He gritted his teeth, spitting the words out as I snatched my arm from his grip and turned, facing him with cheeks flushed and a tight coiling in my belly.
“You have lost your right to touch me.” I held back a smile as his eyes widened and his nostrils flared, trying to get his emotions under control. “But I refuse to rise to your level of stupidity and continue this conversation in the presence of the people I respect and work with. Get your ass outside this instant.”
He stepped back, rolling his eyes and adjusting his tie before turning around and holding his arm out for my mother. She took it with a sticky-sweet smile, knowing I’d follow, but I took a moment and bowed my head, breathing in for five and out for ten.
“What’s going on, cookie?”
Pineapple cheesecake. Magnum couldn’t see me like this—so disheveled and shaking from being ambushed.
“It’s—” I started, but the words died on my tongue, and I shook my head. He stepped closer, reaching one hand toward me with his brows furrowed.
“What can I do?”
“It’s my mother. And my. My—” I put my hand over my mouth, a choked sob breaking through as I stomped my foot, knowing I’d wasted enough tears on that man.
“I can’t. I have to go, Magnum.” I pivoted, turning to walk outside, when he grabbed my wrist, tugging me back. “He’s here. I can’t. I have to go.”
“Here,” he tugged me closer, then let go, taking off his jacket and holding it open for me. “It’s chilly, and I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
I nodded, chewing on my lip as I slipped on his coat, the scents of sweetened coffee and mint enveloping me. He walked away, running a hand through his hair as I lifted the collar of the jacket to my nose, breathing him in as I walked outside.
I was shivering—but it wasn’t from the cold. It was from the anger and aggression swirling inside my body, burning me up from the inside and making my hands quake.
The parking lot was thankfully empty, except for a few employees that chose not to park in the back. Nathan was waiting with his arms crossed, tapping his shoe on the asphalt. Staring at him, my anger reached a fever pitch—this was my problem, and it was time I ended it once and for all.
“Honestly, Brooke,” my mother said, snapping her purse closed. “I expected you to put up more of a fuss or even throw a little temper tantrum, but I suppose this time away has matured you. We’ll stop at your place straight away and be at the airport in time to take the evening flight home. Nathan was gracious enough to upgrade our three tickets to first class.”
She brushed invisible lint off her pantsuit and adjusted her purse before motioning to their rental car like she expected me to follow. The anger I felt was replaced with a wave of unencumbered sadness, thinking Mom and I had grown so far apart she truly believed she was doing me a favor.
Family should be the ones who know you the best and support you through everything, and somewhere along the line, Mom and I lost that.
“I hate to disappoint you, Mom, but I’m not leaving.”
“Excuse me?” she said. At the same time, Nathan took my elbow, attempting to steer me toward the car. I pulled away, almost losing my footing with how harshly I jerked myself out of his grip.
“Be reasonable, doll. Time to stop playing games.”
“How dare you?” I hissed, taking a step closer to them as they both took a step back. I’d laugh at how synchronized the movement was if I wasn’t vibrating with anger. “Both of you. Showing up here like you know what’s best for me when, really, you have no right to say anything about my life.”
I took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around my middle and letting the cold sink into my lungs and burn away the drop of cold sweat that beaded on my brow.
“Mom. I understand you think you’re doing what’s best, but what you should have done is ask. Have you thought about that? Asking what I want? Asking if there were more reasons why I moved? Asking if going back to a man who fucked my best friend was what I wanted? Until you ask, there’s no place for you in my life.”
I breathed again, the elephant-size weight on my chest loosening slightly as I spoke my truth, something I’d been too scared to say for years.
“There’s no reason to be so crass—” she said, but I held up my hand, focusing on the regurgitated frog slime that at least had the common sense to look scared.
“And you. You lost your chance to have a say in any part of my life when you cheated on me.” I heard a vehicle peeling out of the parking lot, but I was on a roll, needing to get everything that had been building inside me off my chest. “I’m completely aware that we were all wrong for each other and should have broken up eons ago. I would never betray your trust—never, Nathan, and I refuse to return to someone who thinks so little of me.”
The weight was still there, but instead of an elephant, it was more like a mere cat, twittering around my chest, ready to be released.
“Brooke, listen. You’re being un—” he tried to say, but I held my hand up again. I was done. This was the end—the closing of one chapter and the opening of another. Ending this was what I needed to do to commit myself to Magnum fully, and with nothing weighing me down, I knew I could.
“No. I’m done listening. I want you both on the next plane out of here. This was a gross invasion of privacy, and I won’t stand for it a second longer. I’m done.”
I crossed my arms and turned away, refusing to look at either of them until I heard car doors slam. I watched as they left the parking lot, hopefully going back to the airport and out of my life. The adrenaline was wearing off, and I felt weak as I walked back inside and past my desk. I made it to the supply closet with seconds to spare before locking the door and sliding down to the floor, crying.
Chapter 22
I can’t...
It was too early to start drinking, but I couldn’t give two fucks, slamming back my second shot of something that could have been lighter fluid for how much I cared. I thought we meant something. I thought what we had was going somewhere—unless her coming on my cock and saying she was mine was nothing more than a pitiful lie. A painstaking reminder that what we were slipped through my fingers the second she walked out the door with him.
I can’t...
Wouldn’t this be easier? Existing as I used to? Moving through the day-to-day monotony on autopilot?
Perhaps Brooke and I were nothing more than a series of thrills. Highs and lows, pulses racing and collapsing, mixed with sporadic moments of contentment and longer bouts of disappointment. We’d spike with anger and desire, then fall into bed together to repeat the motions the next day. It was a constant battle—of wills, of dominance, of right and wrong.
What we had was nothing like the books she made me read or the Hallmark Christmas movies Mom would watch regardless of the season. It wasn’t some slow-moving infatuation built on friendship and trust, filling my insides with rays of sunshine and tranquil evenings. We had mania—intoxication, not something softer to fall back on when things got tough. A series of wild, unhinged ideas and random moments in time when I’d find myself beside her desk with nothing to say and only a desire to be close to her.
I can’t...
So many things dawned on me as I took another shot, pulling my phone from my pocket and seeing a text from Miller. I wasn’t nearly drunk enough to listen to his musings on all the ways I’d fucked up my life. I’d rather dwell on all the little ways she’d made me better.
I’d been waking up earlier just to make the days last longer so I could spend more time with her. I wandered around for a half hour at the office supply store earlier this week looking at pens because I knew how much she loves the purple, thin-tipped rollerball ones. Then there was the time I scarfed down three helpings of her vegan quiche because she was upset no one had eaten any.
Fuck. I was a disaster.
Miller: You shook the whole building with how loud you slammed the back door.
Me: Did I miss a question in there? Because I am not in the mood for your particular brand of crazy right now.
Miller: When you’re ready to talk about it, you know where I am.
Miller: *GIF of group hug*
Me: Go fuck yourself. Please and thank you.
Me: *GIF of a middle finger*
Me: *GIF of a burning house*
Me: *GIF of banging head on wall*
Miller: Offer stands. Jackass
Miller: *GIF of flaming hearts*
The realization dawned on me as I sat there, staring at that stupid heart GIF and pleasantly buzzed from the three shots chased with some fruity thing on the rocks with gin. The juniper reminded me of her, and I watched the drops of condensation drip down the glass, leaving a pool of water around the bottom, slowly moving toward me. That was when I realized I’d fallen in love with Brooke. Or, to my horror—I’d been in love with her for some time and was too stupid to put the pieces together.
I always figured when I fell in Love—with a capital L—it would hit me like a slap in the face, coursing through my veins and filling me with such happiness I’d have to immediately sit down for fear of falling. I imagined the sky opening, clouds parting, and the sun shining a beam of light directly into my heart. I assumed it would be with a nice girl who would come to Mom’s house on the weekends and help her do the dishes after dinner. She’d laugh at my jokes and roll her eyes when I tried to sneak my hand under her dress at the dining room table.
It most definitely would not be with a quick-tempered, infuriating woman who called me on my bullshit and had me constantly between lust, hate, and uncompromising annoyance. When Love with a capital L found me, my mother would cry tears of happiness when we got married and whisper how proud my dad would be if he were still with us. I’d give her a wedding-appropriate kiss, then whisper all the dirty things I would do to her once the guests left and we were finally alone.
But love had found me, and even though it hadn’t come with the soul-searing clarity and unwavering knowledge I expected, it still arrived without mercy. Less clouds parting warm sunshine and more hitting me square in the chest with steel-toed boots. How did I let this happen?
Any chance of her reciprocating my realization washed away like the ocean before a tsunami when I remembered how her face looked when that skinny idiot of an ex was bent over her desk. She touched his arm when he leaned down and whispered something. All I wanted was for her to give me one word of reassurance—instead, I got two words that drove me out of the building faster than a stomach flu.
I can’t...
The more I tried to convince myself of all the reasons this could never work, the more a desperate, hidden part of my mind conjured pictures of us together. Spending lazy afternoons wrapped up in each other, reading smutty books, and baking Brookies before waking up with her wrapped around my body.
Imagining that, I had another realization slamming into me like a freight train—I desperately wanted that with her. I wanted her around in the mornings and to kiss her anytime, not hidden in corners.
Brooke and I never stood a chance. We were doomed from the start, destined to sink like the Titanic—to slide below the freezing water and into the dark depths below. I was a fool—an idiot for even considering that this thing of ours could be more than sex.
I’d tell her tomorrow—no, tonight—that whatever this was had to stop. A knife sliced through my chest, cleaving my heart in two as I thought about never feeling her soft body under me, her breathy moans and little sighs. If it saved me from the pain of her walking out of my life—walking back to a man who fucking cheated on her, she could have half of my heart.
It belonged to her anyway.
She could carry it around unknowingly in her pocket, leaving me an incomplete shell.
“Another?” the guy behind the bar asked, nodding toward my empty glass.
“Yeah. Make it a double.”
He grunted and turned as I grabbed the dregs of my drink and swallowed the watered-down gin, crunching on the ice and hoping the next glass would stop the hurting.
