Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

brOOKLYNN

The party ends. I wish I had gotten trashed. I should have drunk my sorrows away. I should have. But now the party is over, I'm sober, and I'm sitting beside Forrest as I drive him in my car toward home.

I open my mouth to ask him where we're going, his or mine but decide against it. We'll land wherever we land. Our last night together. I'm not ready to give him up yet. I don't think I ever will be.

This whole thing sucks major ass.

"The guys aren't coming home tonight. They all went home with someone."

It's an invitation to his house. I roll my lips, nodding once as I continue driving. I don't tell him that I noticed Alexei and Lev took off with some girls who appeared seemingly out of thin air.

A few moments later, I pull into the driveway of his home, wondering if I should have pulled into my own across the street. It's going to be awkward when I break up with him in the morning and have to get in my car to drive across the street.

God. This whole thing makes me feel completely sick to my stomach. I don't want to make this decision. I don't want to have to do any of this. Why can't we just live in our little bubble—just him and me?

Turning the engine off, I turn to face him. Forrest shifts his attention from the windshield to me, his eyes finding mine. He's not as sober as I am, but I wouldn't even call him tipsy. He had maybe three beers and two shots tonight.

"We're going to need to talk," he murmurs.

He's absolutely right. We do need to talk. A lot. But not tonight. Not right now. I bite the corner of my lip but release it almost instantly before I give him my smile.

"Maybe later?" I exhale.

He hums then lifts his arm, and his hand cups the side of my neck, his eyes searching mine for a long moment, then he leans forward and touches his mouth to mine. "Yeah, honey. Later."

If he reads something in my eyes, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he leans backward, releasing my neck before he reaches for the door and opens it. He unfolds from the passenger seat and then jogs around the front of my car.

My car door opens, his hand extended and his palm waiting for me. Slipping my fingers into his hand, I throw my legs over the side of the car and stand up. We walk in silence. My thoughts are a mile a minute, and I can't calm them down.

I'm just so damn sad.

The silent house is deafening, my heart slamming against my chest with every step I take. No doubt Forrest can hear it. He walks into his room before me, like he has a dozen times. But instead of thinking he looks sexy or that this is going to be hot, I'm filled with a deepening sadness that rolls through me. This is the last time I'll be here with him like this.

Forrest turns toward me, his eyes instantly connecting with mine, and then he clears his throat and takes a step forward. We don't speak. Our bodies say everything we need them to. At least mine does.

And what my body begs for is… forgiveness for what I'm going to do when the sun rises.

FORREST

Looking into her eyes, I slowly slide inside of her body. There is something working behind Brooklynn's eyes, but I don't want to know what it is. Whatever it is, she can keep it to herself because I know without a doubt that it's going to be something I don't like.

Rolling my hips, I grip the back of her thigh, squeezing it hard as I fuck her. I'm taking my time, and my rhythm is slow and steady. I could do this shit all night long. Keeping my pace even, concentrating on her eyes.

My other hand, I slip behind her head, gripping her hair at the base of her neck. Breaking eye contact, I lower my head and touch my mouth to hers, brushing my lips across her own before I bury my face in her neck.

I grip the strands of her hair and tug on her head slightly, exposing more of her neck for my face. "Please," she begs.

I don't want this to end. There is something poignant about tonight, and it isn't because it's my birthday. It's bigger than that. I can smell it, taste it… feel it.

"I never want this to end, Brooklynn," I murmur against her skin.

Her nails scratch down my back, stopping at my ass as she digs them into my flesh. She's trying to make me move faster, her orgasm likely on the edge, but I don't give a fuck. I want to feel her pussy for just a little while longer.

"I'm so close," she pants.

My hips roll again, grinding my pelvis against her clit. Then she whimpers as her cunt flutters around my cock—begging for relief. It's a relief that I'm not ready to give her yet. Whatever change is coming, I don't like it, and I want to ward it off for a little while longer.

"Hold off, honey," I rasp.

She squeezes her pussy, clutching and releasing around me over and over. It feels out-of-this-fucking-world amazing. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and my control snaps. Ripping my head from her throat, I look into her eyes as my knees find purchase in the mattress.

Then I fuck her.

Hard.

I take from her body what she's giving me, but as I look into her eyes, I only see them for a split second before her lids slide closed. But what I saw… they look haunted, and I don't like that, not in the fucking slightest.

But then I feel her pussy wrap me tightly. It clamps down around me and sucks me in deep, trying to hold me in place. I don't do that, though. I can't stay still. Even if someone were demanding that I do, my body couldn't.

My hips buck harder, faster, thrusting into her as she cries out, and then I bury myself deep, my back bowing as I come on a roar. Brooklynn cups my cheeks, and then she slides her thumbs beneath my eyes.

Dipping my chin, I touch my lips to hers. "Fucking beautiful as always, honey."

Slowly, I slide out of her body and lie on my back, my eyes staring at the ceiling before I gather her in my arms, pressing her against my side. As much as I want to talk to her, to find out just what had her eyes looking so damn haunted, I don't.

Instead, I decide to enjoy the moment—my birthday. Fuck. Twenty-five. This day was supposed to be epic. And it was, but not in the way I had always imagined. This year was supposed to be magical. It was supposed to be life changing, and it is, just in a weird fucking way I never thought possible.

"Thank you for my birthday, Brook," I murmur. She places her hand on my chest and then pushes up slightly.

Her brows are furrowed, and I can tell she's going to talk to me about the game instead of my birthday party. I didn't feel like discussing the game because that would mean I would have to discuss the Kiki thing, and honest to fuck, I am sick of the whole drama.

"Are you going to tell me about the fight? That wasn't about the game."

I think about lying to her but then decide against it because a lie never did anyone any damn good, and I think we've had enough of those with my family, Kiki, and the whole-ass internet.

"He mentioned something about the videos, about me being a cheater, in not so many words," I say.

Admitting that out loud makes me feel a certain way, and I don't fucking like it, not in the slightest. But I'm also not going to dig deep and figure out why. Maybe because it's all a lie, and I know that I'm not a liar.

"God, I'm not sure this is ever going to end," Brooklynn whispers. "I hate it."

There it is. Her whispered words are all I need to know. I wrap my fingers in her hair, twisting the strands and tilting her head back so I can look down into her eyes.

"Brooklynn," I say through a clenched jaw. "They are miserable people. They will not get what they want, and they'll have to get over it."

"No," she snaps.

Blinking, I am surprised by her outburst. "Honey," I rasp. She tries to push away from me, but my muscles tighten, keeping her close. Shaking my head, I clear my throat. "Whatever you're thinking, don't. We will get through this drama. It's stupid and immature."

"Forrest," she murmurs with tears in her eyes.

She doesn't blink them back. She doesn't even try to swallow them. I press my lips together, trying to think of how to play this. I want to tell her to shut the fuck up because I think I know what's going to happen. And I fucking refuse.

"No." It's my turn to snap. "Marry me, Brooklynn. I'm fucking serious. Marry me. Let's end all this right now."

"You know that's not going to fix anything," she whispers.

Shaking my head, I clear my throat. "I'll hire a publicist to fix it. I'm done. It's not going to just go away because they're crazy. So I'm going to beat them at their own game and hire someone to fix it all."

It's an idea that came to me after looking into her tear-filled eyes. This needs to end. Me pretending it doesn't exist isn't helping shit. "I don't know if that's going to work."

I snort, shifting forward to touch my mouth to hers. "Well, I'm telling you that whatever it is you had planned is definitely not going to work."