Chapter 17

Panic gripped Brody as Phoebe didn't move.

No one but Ally knew what he got up to in here. Why the hell hadn't he locked the door when he'd come in? Zoe had called and told him Phoebe wanted the desk, and he'd… what? Heard her name and that she was coming to his house and lost all cognitive ability?

"They're amazing, Brody." Her expression told him she was genuine in her praise, but he still wasn't comfortable with her in here. "How long have you been doing this?"

He watched as she moved closer to the wall where he'd hung a few of his drawings. He could pick her up and carry her outside, but maybe if he played it cool and said the drawings weren't his, she'd leave none the wiser. But then why would all these drawings be here if he hadn't done them?

Could he say Ally had?

His brain actually hurt, it was working so hard. Brody also knew that he couldn't lie to Phoebe. He owed her that much. Plus, he hated lying.

"Oh my God, this is Tripp, isn't it?" She was doing that little knee bend she used to do when she was excited. Funny how he still remembered that about her.

"Look, Phoebe. I don't let people in here, ever. No one but Ally knows about these."

She turned so fast, the ends of her hair flicked up. "What? Why wouldn't you tell anyone about them? They are…." She hesitated like she had no words. "They're just so good."

"Because I've only ever done them for Ally, and they're private." Brody jammed his hands in his pockets and felt his shoulders hunch. He never liked feeling vulnerable or exposed, and right now, he felt both, like he was suddenly standing before her naked.

She was seeing something he'd shown no one else. Even those closest to him didn't know he loved to draw.

"You know how good these are, right?" Phoebe said, sounding awed. "This is such a special talent, Brody. You could sell them or?—"

"I don't do them for that."

She turned back to look at the drawings again, and he wanted to yell at her to leave. This was his space. Only he came in here, and sometimes Ally. But even she knew that Brody's time in his man cave was precious and never entered without knocking.

Ally, who rarely knew how to be quiet, often just sat beside him while he drew and watched. Brody drew every chance he got, but never anywhere but in here. This was his escape. No pressures or constraints. Just fun.

He let his eyes run down the long line of Phoebe's spine in that white sundress. It had narrow shoulder straps, was fitted to the waist, and then fell in a skirt to midthigh, exposing long, shapely limbs. The sun-kissed soft skin above the neckline would be the perfect place to lean in and kiss— nope! You're pissed off she's here, remember ?

"You've drawn them all as superheroes, and I can identify every single person." She was moving as she talked, studying his drawings.

"Phoebe, you heard me say no one has seen these. Not even my family," Brody said, staying where he was.

She shot him a look over her shoulder. "So, consider this payback."

The words surprised a bark of laughter out of him. "Payback?"

She didn't elaborate but kept studying.

"Klaus Becker is the Coffeeman." Phoebe laughed as she studied the drawing.

"Okay, I think you've seen enough. Now come and look at the desk," Brody said.

She reluctantly turned away.

"You should show your family, Brody. These are so good and nothing to be ashamed of."

It was strange how here, alone with him, she didn't seem nervous now. He was the nervous one, and yet there was that kiss that he couldn't stop thinking about.

"I'm not ashamed."

"Then why not show them?"

She had bright candy-pink polish on her toes and nails, and her sandals were flat and nude. His sister had taught him about fashion colors. Phoebe looked fresh, sexy, and far too disturbing.

"Because I don't want to. Now do you want to see this desk or not?"

And just like that, at his harsh tone, she shut down again. The cool expression slid back into place, and the excited Phoebe was gone.

"I would like to see it, please, and forgive me for walking in here without your permission. I'll step outside."

"Phoebe, stay… please," he added as she took a step to ward the door. "No one has seen these drawings. I was off-balance when you walked in here."

The cool look remained as she nodded. Brody sighed silently. "The desk is this way."

He retraced his steps, and she followed, and then her footsteps stopped again. He turned and realized too late what she'd seen.

"I'm Sunshine Girl?"

He'd drawn it a few years ago from the memory of the girl he'd known. She stood in a halo of sun, arms wide, laughing in a super girl suit the colors of sunrise.

"That's how I remembered you."

He watched her shoulders rise and fall. "Show me the desk." Her voice was colder than a Lyntacky winter's day now.

After that, she said yes, she'd liked the desk and would have it collected. Brody said he'd drop it off to her and refused any payment. She wanted to argue but nodded and walked out of his man cave.

"That went well," he muttered to no one. Brody felt like he'd just ridden the roller coaster at Disneyland that Ally had loved, and he'd hated.

Turning off the lights, he shut and locked the door and then headed back to the house, sure that Phoebe had already left. He found Ally standing in the driveway, confirming his suspicions.

"What are you doing?"

"Ms. Stanway came back from the shed and said she had to go because she just remembered an appointment. She looked kind of panicky. I hope everything is okay."

"I'm sure it is," Brody muttered. "Did you make me a coffee?"

"Did you say anything to upset Ms. Stanway, Dad?"

"No. "

"But you were boyfriend and girlfriend once. Are you sure?" Ally was looking at him now, hands on her hips.

"Yes, I'm sure. Can I have my coffee now?"

Life had been blissfully uncomplicated before Phoebe returned to town, but now it was a shitstorm.

Following his kid inside, he wondered if he and Phoebe were ever going to settle into anything resembling comfortable. He thought perhaps the only way they'd achieve that was by avoiding each other, or one of them moving away from Lyntacky again…. It wouldn't be him.