7. BROOKLYN

CHAPTER 7

brOOKLYN

" Y o, Tatum! Where you going? We need one more."

I wave at Dane as Liv and I march by the pool tables. He shrugs and then works on recruiting one of the JV guys for the game.

"What the hell are you doing?" But even though her free hand grabs onto my wrist, she doesn't dig her heels in to stop me.

The place is packed tonight, which stands to reason on the last Friday of freedom before the new semester. I don't want interlopers for the talk Liv and I are about to have, so I navigate us through the bodies all the way to the back of the establishment, past the bathrooms and to the emergency exit. I know it doesn't trip any alarms, because this has become my escape route every time I'm out-peopled.

A drizzle greets us outside in the back alley. Liv finally twists out of my grasp and I expect her to beat it, but when I face her, she's still out here. Arms folded tight. Mean glare on her face. A strand of hair falls across her eyes and she puffs to try to move it. When that doesn't work, she releases a hand to push it back, which messes her hair in a way that suits her more. Just like the black nail polish and the chunky silver rings.

The Olivia I know is back, huh? Freaking finally.

Mimicking her, I fold my arms too and her eyes lower to my tattoos.

"What the hell are you doing?" I spit right back at her. "Like, I'm glad to see you're looking more like yourself, but shouldn't you have learned the lesson? Stay away from douchebags, Liv."

She scoffs in total disbelief. "And what gives you the right to say any of this shit?"

"I'm your friend," I say through gritted teeth, pissed out of my mind that I can't say best friend anymore.

"No, you're just a stranger now so butt out of my business." She starts for the door and I almost laugh when it doesn't open.

That's right, babe, one way only.

"And whose fault is that?" I mutter bitterly.

Slowly, she glances over her shoulder. "Yours, actually."

"Fine." I throw my hands out in that dramatic way she has. "I'm glad we're finally hashing this out. It's my fault, I was a total jerk. But that doesn't mean I've stopped looking out for you."

"Is that what you think you were doing?" Now she faces me again, incredulity pouring out of her very being. "Ever stopped to think I can take care of my damn self?"

"Sure. You could probably have kicked him in the balls. But what if he hurt you first?" I shake my head. "And what kind of person would I be if I saw what was going on and didn't intervene?"

"Uh." Liv taps her chin, pretending to think. "Someone who stays out of other people's business?"

"No, an asshole. That's what."

She blinks hard against the rain starting to prickle her eyes. With an efficient swivel on her heels, she starts heading around the building back to the front. I follow because I'll make sure she gets back in safe.

As she fumes in silence, I ask, "Why are you even giving the time of the day to some random creep like that?"

"None of your business, Brooklyn."

I hate that she's calling me just like everyone else.

She used to have more nicknames for me than I can count. Brooke. Brookie—which is short for a brownie and cookie baked together, my favorite dessert. Body odor, because she said I always stank every time I gave her a headlock and made a mess of her hair. Blondie. Puppy, because I'm like a tireless golden retriever when I'm giving her crap.

And that's what I channel now, even though I'm annoyed as hell. This freaking rain isn't helping, either. "Are you looking for a rebound? Because if so I can hook you up with someone who isn't a slimeball."

She flinches, but I don't have enough time to inspect that when she suddenly gets in my grill. "Trust me, I don't need your help to find some stranger to make out with. No matter how below your league I may be."

Ouch. And not just from the words Liam Roberts said that time. Her index finger jabs at my chest once, twice. Hard enough to bruise.

Before the third jab, I curl my hand around her finger and seize it. Leaning closer to her, desperate to wipe Roberts' words from her mind any way that I can, I say, "Well, lucky for you I'm a stranger now, huh?"

Liv yanks her finger free and takes a step away. She rakes her fingers through her wet hair and pushes it back. It makes her crop top ride up and I get a glimpse of a black sports bra.

It makes heat burst in my gut and that's when my own words click .

I blink hard against the pouring rain and my own hair poking my eyes, but actually it's just so I process the moment.

Sometimes… often—okay, all the time—I talk without thinking and put my size sixteen foot in my mouth. It's why another one of her nicknames for me was blimbo. Blond himbo.

"Puh-lease." Liv snorts hard enough to drown a roll of thunder. "You wouldn't kiss me if your life depended on it."

"Is that a challenge? Because it sounds like one."

Shit, I guess I'm still in blimbo mode.

A condescending look falls on her face. "No, it's a fact—based on the whole me being under your league and all."

"Would you just freaking drop that? I'm not the one who said that crap."

"No, but you agreed."

"Aceituna," I say, using the nickname she hates the most in the world. "This is what I've been hoping to tell you for a damn year and a half. Yeah, I took the coward's way so I wouldn't have to stand up to someone I thought I had to impress. But I never really agreed, not for a single stinking second. You're not a nerd or a dud."

She huffs. "A boring dweeb and below your league were his precise words."

It's dark enough now that the street lights flicker on. Liv is bathed by an unnatural white halo that darkens her expression, and I don't know if that's why I can't read it. It's like she's angry, or pensive, or maybe both. She's capable of multitasking that way.

Then she lifts her chin. "Prove it, then."

"Prove what?" I push my hair away from my forehead, which lasts a whole second before the rain pounds it back down.

"That I'm not a dud." The corner of her lips curls into the mischievous smile that appeared every time she pranked me. " You're a stranger now, right? So you should be able to kiss me with no problem."

My skin prickles. Red alarms blare in my mind.

This is dangerous territory. The kind I carefully maneuvered around all through high school. I vowed to myself to never, ever play with Liv like this. She's always been so much more important than any hookup.

Yet if I back down, she's going to walk off thinking that Roberts' words were true all along. And it chafes me raw that she even heard them in the first place because she's always been outrageously hot.

So, that leaves me with no choice but to kiss her.

Unfortunately, competition is in my damn DNA, and the surest path to victory is just rising to the challenge. I eat the distance between us in one long step. Her eyes flash with surprise as I grab the back of her neck and pull her against me.

I crash my lips on hers.

Apropos, thunder crashes above us and maybe a lightning bolt strikes me too. Except the sparks concentrate right where our lips touch. Liv gasps like she feels it too, and that's when my brain packs its shit right up and jumps off its socket.

Our mouths separate for a shared breath and I walk her back until she's up against the brick wall. The rain beats against my back and then her hands grab fistfuls of the back of my T-shirt. With my free hand, I push her hips against me and now we're close enough. Before she starts thinking I'm through with her, I swoop down again, coercing her mouth open with my lips.

A groan comes from my throat and I all but collapse against the wall. She tastes like rain and like Liv—something strong but sweet just like she is, just like she tries to hide. I need another taste and my tongue strokes hers, languid, deep, savoring the wet brush of our tongues, the gentle pull of my lips around her soft ones. She must have no doubt about what we're doing here.

Friends who don't find their friends hot don't kiss them like this.

I smile against her lips, opening my eyes for a second as I switch to the other side. Her eyes remain closed like she's given herself fully to every sensation.

I kiss the corner of her lips. Scrape my teeth against her bottom one. She grabs tighter onto my shirt like her legs are giving out.

That vaguely registers in my brain. I'm making Liv's knees weak. Me .

Then I tilt her head back even more so I can have more access. But while I plunge deeper in her mouth, one of her legs climbs higher against mine and the friction sets me on fire like a match. I shift my hand from her hip and down her thigh, at just the same excruciatingly slow way I'm kissing her. Finding the crook behind her knee, I hitch it higher until our hips are aligned. Until not even the rain can come between us.

Liv moans. If I was getting hot before, I'm pretty sure the rain's evaporating at the contact with my skin now.

My pea brain finally activates the flight reflex. If we keep going, I'm going to embarrass myself in front of her. Or worse, take her in some alleyway where anyone could see us.

This time our mouths make a loud, wet, sucking sound as I pull away. Her eyes fly open right away and the haze clears from them shockingly quick. Liv snaps her mouth shut, and I have to use all my willpower to not lock my eyes on her bruised lips. Just in case I'm tempted to keep bruising them.

We both breathe like trucks as I carefully lower her leg and step back. And back some more. Liv's dark eyes lower down to my lips, my chest and lower, before lifting quickly with an unreadable expression .

Since I'm nowhere near as good an actor as she is, I rub my face to try to wipe whatever is on it.

Namely, that I'm toast and I know it.

"Got enough proof, then?" I ask with a raspy, garbled voice that we both know what it means. That kiss turned me on so much that I could probably replace the Olympic torch.

"Yeah, I guess so."

I splay my fingers wide to peek at her. "You guess so?" Is she shitting me? That kiss was freaking epic. Lightning in a bottle. Or rather, a volcano in my veins.

Liv has the nerve to shrug. "At least it helped me win the bet."

I drop my hands. "What bet?"

"Make out with a stranger or buy the week's groceries." She tilts her head, eyes hooded as she inspects me again. Her voice is thick as she says, "So, thanks… stranger."

I stand still as a statue, watching her all the way until she rounds the corner and goes back into the bar.

I wish I could reactivate my legs but they've turned into lead. My eyes fall down to my Converse, St. Cloud blue, that are now soaked through. Which is a little bit like how I feel on the inside. Like I was okay a moment ago but now a storm has barreled through me.

"What in the actual hell just happened?" I ask they alleyway in a quiet whisper.