“So.”
“Last night was fun.”
I kiss her hair. “Mm. Maybe I’ll bring two tents with us this weekend and we can reenact it in the wilderness. I think your moans will sound lovely in an open field.”
She leans back to look at me. “Two tents? You’re delusional if you think I’m separating from you at any point during this absurd camp-out. I told you I didn’t want to do this. Now you’re trying to suggest we sleep apart? Fuck that. Haven’t you ever seen Deliverance? I know that wasn’t set in Chicago, but there are freaks everywhere. You’re stuck with me. One tent. One sleeping bag. Get ready for stage-five clinger status, buddy. I’m going to be on you like a hobo on a muffin.”
My mouth stretches into a smile. I grab her face, bending for a kiss. “I like the sound of that.”
“Of course you do.” Her hands circle my wrists. She bites at my lip. “The stalker becomes the stalkee.”
“Exactly,” I say quietly, opening my eyes to watch hers slowly flutter open.
She stares at my mouth like she wants another taste, but she isn’t asking, or moving in for it. I think I’ll leave her like this.
Waiting. Wanting.
“What time do you want to do lunch?” I ask, letting my hands fall away and moving beside her.
I tap my finger on the large mixing bowl. The white powder vibrates against the steel.
She nudges against me and slides the bowl in front of her, along with several various sized measuring spoons. “One? That’s when I usually take it.”
“Great. I have a break between classes then.” I rest my hand on her back and kiss her cheek. “You know that park with the water fountain about ten minutes from here? Meet me there. I’ll take care of the food.” I make for the exit, glancing back when I reach the doorway.
I smile.
Brooke looks like she wants to ask questions, maybe protest the location and offer up a private spot where clothes aren’t required.
I know my girl.
Instead, she lifts her hand and waves me off. “Okay, but you better show up this time. No epic facetime wanking sessions between now and lunch. I need you focused. Maybe you should grab a banana or something. I hear that’s brain food.”
A laugh rumbles in my chest.
“I’ll be there,” I tell her, I promise her, as I back out of the room.
I will fucking be there.
I beat Brooke to the park and claim a vacant bench near the large fountain.
Three sprouts of water erupt from the center, fanning close to the flat stone edge and darkening the rocks. A few children drop coins into the water and stand on their toes to watch them sink to the bottom. Dog walkers and mums with prams filter in between one another along the paved footpath.
It’s a nice day, the cool spring air smelling of flowers and cut grass. The sun slicing through the clouds.
My ringtone sounds from my pocket.
I’m expecting it to be Brooke, telling me she’s on her way, or maybe that I’m still a huge tosser for standing her up earlier and she’s paying me back by for it.
Palming my phone, I look at the screen.
It isn’t Brooke. The woman calling might’ve threatened castration if I would’ve pulled that stunt with her.
I bring the phone to my ear. “Hey. How are ya?”
Tessa grunts. “Finally! Someone answers the damn phone today. Sweet Christ, I’m going batshit crazy listening to these transcripts and I need a reason to not listen to them.” A loud crunch comes through the line. “Humor me. What’s new? What happened with that one chick who definitely does not have bigger balls than me?”
I chuckle, my eyes searching for Brooke. “You know, I should be offended you’re only calling me to get out of working. You’re a terrible mate.”
“Hey, screw you. I should be offended you left the best fucking state in this beautiful country to be all adult and open up your own business, but I’m not, ‘cause that would be shitty of me. Even though I still don’t understand why you couldn’t open up your own studio here. ‘Bama girls love yoga.”
We share a light laugh. I know of one particular ‘bama girl who doesn’t care for yoga one bit.
“How’s all that going anyway?” she asks.
“Good. Yeah, really good. It’s a bit shocking, actually. I might have to consider tacking on another class during the day if interest stays this fortunate.”
“Mason, you’re a great teacher, and you look like a male model. I’m sure your interest stays plenty fortunate.”
“We’ll see.” I smile, rubbing my mouth. “So, yeah, this woman I mentioned, Brooke.” At the mere utterance of her name, something catches in the center of my chest, warming my blood. My mouth twitches. “We’ve been seeing a bit of each other and it’s been great. I’m quite fond of her.”
“Yeah?” Tessa takes another bite of whatever it is she’s eating. “You two serious?”
“Serious?” I repeat, considering the word.
My answer is simple.
In my mind, we are. I have never been anything less with Brooke, and I don’t relish the idea of it. She is quickly becoming a beautiful constant in my life.
Wake up thinking about her.
Go through the day, counting down the minutes until I can pop in her shop for a quick visit.
Pass out and welcome some of the filthiest dreams I’ve ever had, all featuring her sweet face and sinful body.
But if asked this question, how would Brooke answer? I know how this thing started out, her casual plans for me, but how does she see us now?
I rub at my neck. “I’m serious about her. She’s bloody fantastic, and the only woman I care to be around.”
“And how does she feel?”
“Lovely.”
There’s a brief pause. “Jesus,” Tessa laughs. “That’s not what I meant. Though I’m impressed you went dirty before I did. Not many people beat me to the punch. Bravo.”
I look up and spot Brooke walking toward me on the path. Her hand lifts with a cute little wave, and I grin. “She’s warming up to me. I’m meeting with her now so I’m sorry to say you’ll have to return to work. I’ll keep you posted on my developments. Tell everyone I said hi, yeah?”
“Jerk,” she mumbles, then giggles quietly. “Yeah, I’ll tell them. And let me know when you decide Chicago blows and need some help looking for apartments back here. I’ll be all over it.”
I stand from the bench. “Goodbye, Tessa.”
“Later.”
Disconnecting the call, I tuck my phone back into my pocket and continue watching Brooke moving toward me.
Her cream-colored, short-sleeved blouse dips low in the front, courtesy of several unfastened buttons. Dark jeans fit to her curves. And on her feet, a pair of gray flats.
Those pink heels she likes to wear are sexy as fuck, but I might like her in flats better. When I pull her close and fit our bodies together, she’s the perfect height for me to rest my chin on top of her head.
“Hey. You made it.” She places her hand to my chest, offering me her cheek. She knows that’s where I’m heading.
I fucking love that she knows that.
“I almost called to remind you,” she adds, smirking.
“I told you I’d be here.” I bend for a kiss and then motion for her to have a seat. Sliding the sandwich bag into my lap, I hold out the to-go box for her to take.
She studies the label on the top of the box, then slowly eases it from my hands.
“You went to Rosie’s,” she states through a soft laugh. “You know I’ve only ever been there for breakfast? I have no idea what their lunch menu looks like.”
It wouldn’t matter, I think, smiling to myself.
I dig my sandwich out of my bag, keeping my gaze in my lap. “Lots of sandwiches and soups. A few salads. Typical lunch stuff.” I peel away the wrapper to reveal the top piece of rye bread.
A soft gasp perks in my ear, followed by cardboard creasing. “Oh, my God, Mason. This is impossible. How did you get them to make you this? They stop serving breakfast at ten-thirty!”
I glance over at her, watching as she lifts the box to her face and inhales.