Page 13

13

M ichelle

I took a slow, careful breath, still feeling the ghost of Brooks' lips on my hand, the warmth of his palm against mine. It was too much. His touch. His words. The way he looked at me like I was something worth keeping. It set off a familiar feeling, one that clawed at the edges of my mind, creeping in like smoke under a door.

I needed space. Now.

“I need to use the restroom,” I said quickly, standing before he could read my face the way he always did.

“For real, or to escape the sexual tension brewing between us?”

I shot him a glare, but my lips twitched. “Yes?”

He chuckled before watching me go with far too much amusement.

My legs carried me faster than necessary, my pulse thrumming too fast, too erratic as I slipped through the crowd. I knew it was irrational—knew I wasn’t in danger, that no one was coming to take something from me—but my body didn’t.

The feeling was always there, hovering in the background. It wasn’t like I had panic attacks. Not really.

It was just… this. Tension. A weight. The constant, gnawing reminder that the people who were supposed to have my back had never stuck around. And if my own family could leave me, why would anyone else stay?

The second I stepped into the bathroom, I exhaled sharply, my body automatically checking exits, scanning corners, locking my knees to keep myself standing. It was empty—thank God. But not a second later, the door flung open and Fiona strutted in.

“You forgot to mention that Brooks Madsen is the guy?” she hissed, grabbing my wrist like she was about to shake answers out of me. “The one who got too close who made you laugh? That guy?”

My heart leapt into my throat, my entire body flinching before my brain caught up.

Fiona. Just Fiona.

She wasn’t hurting me. She wasn’t leaving me or using this information to hurt me. She was just… Fiona.

I let out a breath, forcing my shoulders to relax, even as my pulse struggled to slow. Meanwhile, she was full speed ahead, not even noticing my moment of panic.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Holy shit, you guys have chemistry. I could feel it across the damn room.” She laughed and the sound echoed in the empty bathroom.

I tried to keep up, but my mind was lagging, still shaking off that burst of static panic. She paced across the plush purple rug, gesturing wildly, her dress swishing around her legs.

I sighed, collapsing onto the ridiculous couch in the corner. “Fi, take a goddamn breath.”

She ignored me, eyes gleaming with excitement. “So? Are you together? Not together-together but, like, together? You are. I can see it in your face.”

She gasped, pointing at me like she’d just solved a murder case. “Shit, this is awesome.”

I groaned, pressing my palms into my eyes, as if I could physically block out the conversation. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, really?” Her smile widened, eyes full of mischief. “Because it sure as hell looks like something. The dancing, the kissing, the way he looks at you like you invented fire?—

I glared. “We aren’t getting together. I made that clear.”

Her grin stretched wider. “Mmhmm. Sure.”

“Fi.”

“What?” She shrugged. “I’m just saying, you’re buzzing around him like he’s a walking power source. It’s not my fault your energy screams smitten.”

I exhaled slowly, fingers tightening on my knees. “I am not smitten.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you acting like you just swallowed a live grenade?”

I blinked.

She tilted her head, studying me, her voice suddenly too soft, too knowing. “Michelle, are you waiting for him to leave and hurt you?”

The breath left my lungs sharply. I didn’t answer because shit, she knew she was right.

That was what my brain always did. What it had been trained to do. Anticipate the worst. Prepare for impact. Don’t get attached.

My own father left me. My mother had never been there at all. My brother had chosen addiction over everything. They used me for their benefit whenever they wanted and tricked me into trusting them time and time again.

So why would Brooks be any different?

Fiona sighed, softer now, leaning into me. “You’re breaking your rules already. Good for you.”

I frowned. I was, wasn’t I?

“Maybe.” I swallowed. “It can’t hurt to have one night with him, just to see if he’s how I remember.”

Fiona arched a brow. “And?”

I sighed in defeat. “Yeah. He’s still incredible. And annoying.”

“I get it, girl.” She nudged my leg. “Gideon did that to me, even though he was a total dickhole for two months.”

I laughed.

“Love is weird,” she continued, stretching out her arms dramatically. “It makes zero sense. But don’t fight it. He’s the best thing to come into my life. Makes it all colorful and fun. It was confusing at first, but once I accepted it? No regrets.”

I bit my lip, watching my best friend literally glow with happiness.

She had it so easy. She let herself fall.

I wasn’t sure I knew how and the risks were just too high.

“You’re so happy, and it pleases me more than you know,” I murmured.

She leaned in harder, our shoulders pressing. “And I want you to be happy too.”

I sighed. “I don’t have time for more. Whatever more means. I work sixty hours a week and study when I’m not sleeping. You’re about the only person I’d take two weekend nights off for, you know?”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “You work too much.”

I ignored her because it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter. “My life plan can’t be interrupted,” I continued. “And Brooks? He has distraction written all over him.”

“Distractions are the best part of life.” She grinned.

I snorted. “You would say that.”

She flipped her hair dramatically. “Look at me, being all happy and shit. I don’t even recognize myself.”

“Sex with Gideon would do that to a person.”

“He is dreamy.” Her eyes crossed, and we both snickered.

She sighed, checking the clock on her phone. “I should get back out there, but I will demand all the details when I return from my honeymoon.”

“Oh? All the details?” I smirked.

“Every single one.”

“You want the size of his dick or how far apart his nipples are?”

She howled. “You’re an asshole.”

She stood, shaking her head as she smoothed down her gown. But before she left, she pointed a manicured finger at me.

“Do me a favor and don’t pull a Michelle and ruin your happiness.”

I stiffened.

“You deserve fun,” she said. “You deserve this.”

I didn’t answer because Fiona didn’t understand. She was a great friend, the closest person I’d let into my life…ever, but happiness wasn’t something you kept. It was something you borrowed.

And I had borrowed enough for one night.

So I forced my lips into a smirk, rolled my shoulders back, and stepped out of the bathroom like I wasn’t just in there fighting off a full-blown identity crisis. The minor freak out exhausted me, and I yawned as I walked back into the party to find Brooks leaning on the doorframe, waiting for me.

He was completely at ease, his massive frame draped in confidence like it was second nature. Relaxed. Unbothered. Completely unaware of the storm in my chest.

The sight of him—those broad shoulders, the lean strength beneath his suit, the easy smirk tugging at his lips—warmed me from the inside out.

I should’ve been careful. I should’ve kept my distance. But Brooks was like gravity the longer I let myself orbit him, the harder it was to break away which was why tonight was it. I barely survived breaking it off two years ago. Any more time with him would make it even worse.

His smirk deepened as I stepped closer, his eyes flicking toward Fiona’s retreating figure before settling back on me. He waited until I was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him before dipping his head toward my neck, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“So how was girl talk?”

I let out a breath of laughter, trying not to shiver at the way his voice slid over my skin like warm silk.

“Shut up.”

His arm slid around my shoulders, casual, easy, like he had every right to touch me like this.

And maybe he did.

“At this rate, I’m going to get used to this,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as his fingers traced lazy circles against my shoulder. “And that would be dangerous.”

“For who?” His tone was pure amusement, his fingers just the right amount of possessive.

I sighed. “Both of us.”

His chuckle was low and knowing, but he didn’t push.

“She looks happy,” he murmured, nodding toward Fiona. “Did you actually share real thoughts and feelings with another human?”

It was meant to be playful, but something tightened in my chest.

Because he was right.

I didn’t share feelings. I kept them locked down, filed away, buried deep where no one could reach them. And him calling me on it so easily? That stung.

“So what if I did?” I stepped out of his hold, needing space, but Brooks was faster.

His hands were around my waist before I could fully retreat, tugging me close with an ease that made my pulse trip over itself.

His voice softened. “Let’s get some fresh air.”

I should’ve said no, but the room suddenly felt too small, too loud, too much.

So I let him lead me onto the terrace, the cool night air wrapping around me, the sky scattered with stars, the city stretching endlessly below us.

Brooks let go, giving me space, but his presence stayed close, warm, steady.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the clean air, trying to chase away the creeping weight in my chest. I didn’t like losing control.

And Brooks? He made me forget what control even meant.

I forgot why I’d been irritated with him, why I’d pulled away, why I always fought so damn hard to keep him at arm’s length.

Until he brushed a light kiss on the back of my neck.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Michelle.”

A shiver skated down my spine. “You didn’t.”

Great. Now I sounded like a moody teenager.

“Yes, I did.”

His voice was lower now, his arms bracketing me in, caging me between the warmth of his chest and the breathtaking city view.

“I teased you,” he murmured, his lips brushing just beneath my ear, “and I shouldn’t have. You share plenty. Every time you do, it makes me happy.”

I closed my eyes, breathing through the way his words settled somewhere too deep inside me. His lips skated over my jaw, his hands running slow, firm strokes up my sides, like he was memorizing me.

Then I felt it—his arousal pressing against me, hard and undeniable.

A slow exhale left my lips, my body already responding, already leaning into him.

“Brooks…”

“What?” His voice was pure sex, thick and edged with heat. “I’m enjoying my date. Relax.”

Don’t let yourself ruin the night.

Fiona’s words echoed in my mind, and for once, I listened. I let myself lean back into him without worrying about what happened next.

Brooks let out a sound that was more growl than sigh, his fingers slipping up the slit of my dress, tracing a line where my underwear would’ve been if it wasn’t in his pocket.

“Can you be quiet for me?”

“Yes,” I whispered, already dizzy with want. “What are you going to do to me?”

His hand found my inner thigh, his fingers teasing along the edge, drawing slow, lazy circles everywhere except my clit.

“Making you feel good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my neck.

He had me shielded, hidden just enough that to anyone looking, we probably seemed like a couple admiring the view.

Only he wasn’t looking at the view.

He was looking at me with heated eyes.

A moan slipped past my lips as he parted me with knowing, practiced ease.

Slow, then faster. Light, then firm.

Like he was tuning my body to the perfect frequency.

His other hand slid up, teasing the peak of my breast, his thumb dragging over my nipple, sending a sharp bolt of pleasure straight to my core.

I bucked against his hand, barely gripping the railing for support.

The orgasm started deep, low in my stomach, spreading outward, liquid fire in my veins.

“Brooks,” I panted, barely clinging to reality.

He pinched my nipple hard, his fingers curling deep, and I shattered. Hard, fast, so intense I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

Brooks held me through it, his mouth brushing against my ear as I trembled against him. “You’re fucking perfect when you come,” he murmured.

I let out a breathless laugh, my body still pulsing with aftershocks. “I bet you whisper that to all the girls.”

He chuckled, pressing one last kiss to my neck. “I don’t. But you already knew that.”

He slid his fingers from me, taking his time adjusting my dress, making sure I was put back together. Like he knew I was already unraveling.

He stepped back just enough to let me breathe, but his hands stayed on my hips, like he wasn’t ready to let go. Then, he licked his fingers looking absolutely way too smug about what we just did.

“Should we head back in?” I whispered.

Brooks smirked, slow and knowing. “Oh, we’re just getting started, Mitch.”

I shivered at the warning in his tone, pleased and curious what else he had in store for us.

“Alright, baseball star. Then what’s next?” I asked, turning toward him with a raised brow.

Brooks smirked, running his fingers along my lower back like he wasn’t ready to stop touching me.

“Well, that depends,” he mused. “There’s the ever-famous act of the groom tossing the bride’s garter to some poor bastard, and the bride tossing her bouquet. The rumor is that whoever catches either object is next to be married.”

I snorted. “Yeah, we can skip that.”

His deep chuckle sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“But is there anything you think we should see?” I asked, glancing around the reception hall, taking in the couples still laughing and dancing. After the balcony, I wanted to go straight to the hotel room.

He spun me around, catching me off guard, his hands settling on my waist as he gazed down at me with something unreadable in his expression.

Something that made my stomach flip, my skin tingle, my instincts scream to pull back.

I frowned, shifting in his grip.

His jaw tightened, his eyes darkening.

“Michelle,” he murmured, voice rougher now.

I swallowed, needing to divert whatever serious thing he was going to say. “We can stay here and dance all night. Get really drunk. Stumble to your hotel room. Then get super naked.”

The tension broke just like that, his mouth curving into a familiar smirk. “You make it sound so romantic.”

I smirked back, but something lingered in my chest. Something unsettled.

“What about cake?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

He blinked, then shook his head, laughing. “How silly of me.”

I let out a breath, relieved when his expression shifted back to playful. I loved sweets and would never pass up free cake. The day I did that would be a sad day, because it would mean I was close to the end. “Come on, Madsen.”

He sighed and followed me to the multi-tiered chocolate strawberry cake, and my mouth watered. “I’m going to, uh, clean up in the bathroom real quick. Can I leave you alone for a moment? Get me a piece?”

“Yes,” I said, fighting a smile. “Sorry you got your hands…dirty.”

“Dangerous woman, you are.”

I grabbed two plates of cake and went to head back to the table when Brigham approached me with an unreadable expression. He looked handsome but tired, and the pressure in my chest tightened when I remembered how Brooks had gone out to watch him. “Brigs, you look nice.”

“You look beautiful, Michelle.” He gave me a sad smile and shuffled his feet back and forth. “Sorry if I was a dick to you last night. It was unnecessary.”

“A dick is a bit strong. I wasn’t your biggest fan, but you can repay me with a coffee sometime.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’m not one to hold grudges for too long with my friends.”

His entire body relaxed, and he motioned to the two pieces of cake in my hands. “You and Brooks, huh? What about your baseball rule?”

Fuck it.

“We know each other from a while back. Before the no baseball players rule was written.”

“Interesting.” He studied me, but there wasn’t anything negative or malicious in his expression. It looked tender. “If he hurts you, let me know.”

“He won’t.”

“If he does, you tell me.” He spoke more loudly this time, and something passed between us. It wasn’t sexual by any means. It was…protective. Like I mattered to him. “I tease you and act like an ass most of the time, but I’m loyal to those in my circle.”

“And I’m in your circle?” I asked, hating how pleased it made me. My circle was little and was too much work for most people to try to get into. The fact that he’d said that made my heart squeeze in the same way Fiona’s friendship did.

Safe. Important. Loved.

“Obviously.” He pulled me in for a half-hug. “Thank you for looking out for me. I’ve burned a lot of bridges in my life, and I’m glad ours is still intact.”

“Takes more than you being a drunk ass for that to break.” I looked up at him. “But I worry. You need to chill with the partying when you have all the talent and money in the world. I mean it.”

“You worry too much.” He tugged my hair like a brother would his sister, and a pang of regret flushed through me. Family isn’t always blood.

“I have good reason to.” I broke out of his embrace and caught Brooks’s gaze as he headed back toward us. “My henchmen will report back to me about your behavior, Brigs. So watch yourself.”

“Gonna ground me?” He smirked, like it was the funniest thing.

“You’re not the only one who protects those in their circle. I didn’t know you were in mine until today, but it’s true.” My voice came out more serious than I intended. “I’ve already lost someone important to me to alcohol and drugs. I cannot lose you too.”

His smirk disappeared, and he gave me a solemn look. “Noted.”

“What am I walking in on? The atmosphere is heavy.” Brooks tried to be cheery, and I gave him a fake smile—which he totally didn’t buy. Brigs hit Brooks on the shoulder before moving on toward the bar, and I shrugged.

“We were just chatting.”

“You referring to your brother?” Brooks wasted no time in asking the hard question.

“You heard that?” I avoided his intense, probing stare that seemed to unzip the no-sharing-details coat I wrapped around myself. It was slow but obvious how each inch he took made it harder to hide. “I said it quietly.”

“I have good hearing.” He gestured toward our table, and I let him lead me. His hand felt comforting and warm on my lower back and was so different from all the others who touched me there. My skin flushed at the contact. He pulled out my chair and positioned his so my legs were in between his. It was intimate and too much.

“Are you sure we should be talking when we could…” I stopped and eyed him up and down. “Leave?”

Lust flared in his eyes, but he made no moves to get up. “We have at least ten hours in bed together. I can spare an hour to talk.”

“Ten? That’s presumptuous.” My tone was level, but my libido wasn’t. She roared in need despite the orgasms, and I crossed my legs. “I doubt you can last that long.”

“Don’t test me. I recall spending at least an hour between your legs, licking every fucking inch of you, two years ago. I’ll find ways to pass time. Trust me.” He licked his lips and goose bumps broke out at the heat in those two words. Trust me.

I was starting to, and that was a problem.

“Let’s start now.” I wiggled my eyebrows, and his shoulders slumped a little bit. Guilt twisted my stomach into knots, and it was a rare feeling. I never got close enough to people to hurt their feelings—besides Fiona and now Brigham—and it sucked. It wasn’t my intention to hurt him, but I felt his hurt when he stood up, put his jacket on, and held out his hand to me.

“Ready?”

“We’re leaving?”

Shut up. Just go. Use his body.

“At your suggestion, yes.” He didn’t look happy, nor sad, but it was stupid how I missed his smirk and playful eyes. “My room is on the top floor so we’ll have to take the elevator.”

I hesitated. Yes, I wanted to spend the night with him and use his body to distract me from my overworked and sad life, but that signaled the end of our date. He wanted to know something personal about me, and I’d reverted to sex, like I always did, and he was disappointed. “Share something personal with me.”

“I’m starting to think of life beyond baseball, and it doesn’t scare the shit out of me anymore. It’s…exciting to think of the next chapter of my life,” he said, not missing a beat.

“More,” I demanded, seeing how far I could push him. He remained standing not two inches from me, and the air crackled between us. This was more than foreplay, and it lit me up. “Tell me more about yourself.”

“My dad died when I was a kid, and I miss him every day. I want two dogs but I’m not home enough, nor do I have someone who can watch them, so I think that’ll be the first thing I do when I retire. I could eat the same meal every single day and not get sick of it, and I would kill for my family.”

Wow.

Shit, did I say that out loud?

“You look shocked and pleased, Mitch.” He sighed and looked at the chair. “Am I sitting back down or are we going?”

I didn’t respond, but I yanked him back on the chair, sure I was going to hate myself for it later. I was a glutton for punishment because each minute with him was another minute of thinking what ifs about a future with him. “How can you…how is it so easy to share those things about yourself?”

“That’s easy. I trust you.” He laughed and took a long drink from my water glass. Couples shared drinks, and it sent a little thrill through me. “I feel very comfortable with you, and people who have trust and comfort share things about themselves.”

“That sounds relationship-y.”

“Friends, couples, partners, bosses, teammates. They are all versions of relationships, some sexual, some not. It doesn’t matter. To have a connection or bond with someone in any format requires some level of trust and sharing. Like what you have with Fiona and Brigham.”

“Does that upset you?”

“What, that you trust them? No. Not at all.” He grabbed my hand and placed it between his. “It makes me want to try harder so you’ll let me in.”

“I’ve already let you in more than I should,” I mumbled.

“Share something with me,” he demanded as he passed me what was left of his cake. I knew if I didn’t answer him, it would ruin the night. He told me he trusted me, let me call the shots, and shared adorable facts that made me want to keep him.

“My father is in jail.” I took a breath and messed with my fork instead of looking at him. “He’s stolen from me countless times, so I don’t tell him or my mom where I live now.” Another breath. “My favorite color is gray because it’s not black and can be paired with any color. I love heavy metal music because it drowns out my thoughts, and I organize my notes by the colors of the rainbow.”

He flashed a smile, but it clashed with the anger in his eyes. “I will come back to the final things you said, but your father? Has he hurt you? Besides using you as a fucking errand girl with drugs?”

I paused and those gray eyes turned lethal. “Not really. Once he slapped me, and that was the last time I ever gave him a chance.”

His grip on my hand tightened, and he took a hard, loud swallow. “So when you say you lost your family, you don’t mean death.”

“My brother is so addicted to alcohol and drugs that the brother I knew as a kid is essentially gone. I tried my entire teenage years to help him. I worked to send him to some clinic, but he blew it on meth and liquor. My dad prefers crimes to earn money, and my mom wanders the streets, refusing to get sober.”

“I’m sorry.”

He said the words with so much sincerity that my eyes stung. There wasn’t any pity in his expression, and that meant the world to me. He kissed the palm of my hand and stared hard at me. I remained silent, nervous about his reaction, but then he smiled.

“What?”

“Metalhead, huh? Didn’t peg you for that.”

“I’m a box of surprises.”

“Yes, you certainly are and I can’t seem to stop wanting to discover them.”