11. Brooks

CHAPTER 11

brOOKS

“How did you know Boston was the one?” I asked Ford, four days later over a mid-week lunch in a small restaurant down the street from my office.

In response, he arched a brow and smirked at me.

“I’m not sure I know anything,” he said, “but I want .”

“You know what I mean.”

“And I know there’s a story.” Ford lifted his iced tea glass and dragged the straw around until it reached his mouth. “So, start there.”

“Do you remember the man you paid to pretend to be interested in you? Before Kale knew you were sticking it to his brother?”

“I’m not sti—” Ford snapped his mouth closed, glaring at me. “What about him?”

“You know I fucked him that night.”

“I’m aware.”

I pushed the last of my salad around my plate until I could get a decent amount onto my fork .

“I ran into him at The Black Door last week.”

“What’s his name?” Ford asked.

“Tate.” He nodded for me to go on, so I did. “I took him home Saturday night.”

Ford’s mouth tugged into a smile that he actively tried to fight down until it was impossible for him to keep the turned-up corners of his mouth at bay.

“And you’re in love?”

“I wouldn’t take it that far,” I muttered, stabbing the last bite of salad onto my fork and shoving it into my mouth.

The more accurate thing to for me to say would have been I shouldn’t take it that far, but I was already well on my way to being head over heels for Tate, and I didn’t even know his last name. He knew mine, which was thanks to the man currently sitting across from me, but I made a mental note to remedy the situation as soon as I was able to get my phone out of my pocket.

“But you are,” Ford teased, “or you wouldn’t ask me how I knew Boston was it for me.”

He had me there.

“He’s special,” I said.

“Aren’t they all?”

“No. I mean?—”

Ford threw up a hand to cut me off. “I didn’t mean all of them as in everyone. I meant all of them as in Boston…Christian…Tate.”

“Maybe.”

Ford sighed.

“I cooked him breakfast on Sunday,” I said. “He’s too tall to wear my clothes.”

“Are those two things connected? ”

I dropped my fork onto the empty salad plate and ran both of my hands through my hair, dropping my head back to stare up at the ugly light fixtures that hung overhead. “I’m trying not to rush,” I said.

“Him or you?”

I thought back to the conversations Tate and I had shared between rounds of sex and refills of coffee. He was the first to say he wanted more from me…more than just rough fucking. We were going on a proper date in two days, one with dinner and maybe flowers, and hopefully more sex, but…it was a real date and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cared enough to bother. I had to have dated casually after Tyler and I split up, but none of the men had mattered enough to make any lasting impression. Tate had made an impression, though. From the first night all the way through to the second. I’d remembered him then, and I’d never forget him now.

“It’s been how long since Ty left?” Ford asked, cocking his head to the side and squinting at me like he was trying to remember my past harder than I was trying to forget it.

“Couple years.”

“So, it’s about time then.”

“It’s not an issue of time,” I said. “I wasn’t holding out or anything.”

“I know.”

“I haven’t met anyone worth dating until Tate,” I told him, and it was true. “I feel a little out of practice with the whole thing.”

“It’s a lot easier than riding a bike.”

“I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

The waitress came over and collected our empty plates, topped off our drinks, and dropped the check. Ford and I both ignored it. We weren’t in a rush, but I did take time to pull my phone out and text Tate before I forgot.

Me : What’s your last name?

He answered quickly.

Tate : Why?

Me : Because I want to know.

Tate : Are you going to run a background check on me?

Me : Should I?

Tate : Barlowe

Me : I like it. Thank you.

I turned my phone face down on the table and tried to ignore the bobble-headed and lovesick expression Ford was wearing.

“There’s not a timeline for any of these things and you know it,” Ford said. “It happens when it happens. Do you think that if I had control over it, I would have fallen for Kale’s brother?”

“I can’t imagine you with anyone else.”

His eyes went soft, revealing the truth of my comment. There wasn’t a person in the world better suited for Ford than Boston, and I imagined the fit went just as well in reverse too. The two of them balanced each other in unexpected ways, and it was a real delight to watch Ford fall as hard as he did.

“That’s fair, but you know what I mean.”

“I do,” I agreed, sliding the check toward Ford’s side of the table .

He scoffed, pushing it back toward me. “I just bought a farm less than a year ago.”

“If it’s not profitable then that sounds to be a bad investment.”

“It makes Boston happy,” he said, giving the check another push in my direction. “And we aren’t trying to make money off of anything yet.”

“That’s why I’m richer than you, because I know you should make money off everything.”

“You made all your money off your name and you know it.” Ford laughed, and I pulled my wallet out to drop my Amex on top of the check. As soon as the black metal card landed, the waitress was there to snatch it up, undoubtedly hearing her tip echo through the restaurant.

“I just don’t want to scare him off,” I said.

“If he’s the one, he won’t get scared.”

Everything Ford was saying made sense and, in my gut, I knew it to be true. If Tate didn’t accept me fully as I was, then there wasn’t going to be a future for us. The thought reminded me of something I’d wanted to hold true to after the breakup with Tyler, but so much time had passed that I’d forgotten. I’d sworn to myself—and probably to Kale as well—that I wasn’t going to compromise myself for a partner in the future.

I’d tried for so many months to pretend the aftercare wasn’t important, to let up on the way I wanted to touch Tyler and be near him, but it hadn’t been enough for him. In the end, we’d both been miserable and bitter over the things I expected from the relationship. Him, because I wanted them at all, and me, because I’d spent so long trying to pretend I didn’t. I didn’t want to be with anyone I couldn’t be honest with, with anyone who didn’t accept the full and focused intensity of me in whatever way that manifested.

Ford was right.

I had to put my cards on the table with Tate and let them fall however they might. There was no point in tempering or diluting myself for an extra date or two if the end was going to come around sooner rather than later anyway.

My phone vibrated, and I flipped it over to check the screen as the waitress returned with the check for me to sign. The alert had been another message from Tate.

Tate : My middle name is Benjamin, and I live in Chelsea.

I chewed at my bottom lip, fighting back a smile.

“You’re so gone for him,” Ford said with a laugh.

He finished his drink and I signed the check, leaving a good enough tip because the waitress left us alone without managing to ever let our drinks run dry. I slid my card back into my wallet and grabbed my phone, pushing my chair back and glowering at one of my closest friends. “I am fond of him.”

We walked outside and I reached into the inside pocket of my suit coat to get out my sunglasses. Spring was in full effect, with all of the sunshine and none of the temperatures, though it was only a couple of weeks away before things started to get hot.

“Bring him to the farm one weekend,” Ford suggested.

I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t even taken him out in the city yet.”

“Not this weekend.”

“I’ll see how the first date goes and we can talk.”

“Fine,” he agreed .

“Fine.”

“Does Kale know?” At his own question, Ford’s face soured, even though he tried to hide it under the dark lenses of his own sunglasses.

“Alex was with me when Tate chased me down at The Black Door, but no, Kale doesn’t know.”

“You should tell him soon,” he suggested.

“Why? Tate isn’t his brother.” I gave Ford a small chuckle that fell flatter than I intended. Smoothing a hand down the front of my shirt, I sobered. “Is he still being a prick about Boston?”

“He’s not being horrible, but he’s not being gracious.”

“He’ll come around.”

“Boston hates it,” Ford said.

“You definitely snagged yourself the kinder of the two brothers,” I teased.

“Christian would probably disagree.”

“There’s no fight to be had. He can fuck Kale all he wants, but Boston will always be the nicer of the two.” My lip was swollen from where I’d been biting it earlier, so I rubbed my tongue over the spot a few times before I voiced my next thought. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“You don’t have to.”

“That wasn’t what I said.”

Ford inhaled sharply, shaking his head and setting off down the street. It took me four long strides to catch up to the tall bastard, but I managed it.

“If it comes up, I wouldn’t hate for you to put in a good word about the man his brother loves,” Ford grumbled.

“I’ll do what I can,” I promised.

We walked the few blocks back to the building where Ford— and Kale—worked, and then we parted ways with a promise of a farm visit before the weather turned unbearably humid. The walk to my own office was another five minutes, so I turned my attention to my phone so I could re-read the messages Tate had sent me over lunch.

The implication I’d run a background check on him was laughable, but it did have me wondering if there were any skeletons in his closet worth hiding. I wasn’t above finding out the old fashioned way, with a conversation over dinner and drinks, which was finally only two nights away. When we’d settled on the date, Tate had answered yes without any hesitation at all, and that had me wondering about his job.

That should have also been a date question, but I had a few minutes left and a curious itch. His roommate was in the service industry and I knew sometimes those kinds of people flocked together. I hoped my desire for weekend plans wasn’t cutting into his ability to make hours and money.

Me : Are you a bartender too?

Tate : I’m an administrative assistant.

Tate : Why?

Me : I was worried you were losing a good shift to let me take you out on Friday.

Tate : I get off work at five.

Me : Okay, good.

He didn’t say anything after that, and I realized it was because it was quarter after one and he was probably busy trying to do his job while I was worried about keeping him from it in the first place. Ford and I had taken a long lunch, which wasn’t unusual, but a sharp reminder of how different our lives were from the people around us.

My money had never been an issue for Tyler. In fact, he was content to spend it as freely as I was. It was the rest of me he found problematic. I would give just as much to Tate, if not more, but he had to take the whole of me to get it. I hoped that wasn’t going to be a deal breaker, but in two days, I was going to find out.