Chapters (46)
I hadn’t realized Brody was tensed up, but when I say that, his jaw loosens a bit and his shoulders drop.
“I’m not ready for it to be over either,” he says, and his fingers tighten on my thigh. I can feel the echo of that all the way in my core, and my clit perks up.
“Either way, I have to stay till my mom’s foot is healed,” I remind him.
But it’s only two more weeks until the date the doctor threw out to her, and suddenly that doesn’t feel like very long.
I squeeze Brody’s hand, and he flips his hand to squeeze mine back.
I remember that I never responded to Amanda.
“I have to text your sister. We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
Brody’s eyes meet mine again, startled. “Wait, what?” He pulls into my parents’ neighborhood as I text Amanda back, Yes, perfect, can’t wait.
“Amanda and Lucy and Hanna and I are having dinner tomorrow night.” I glance at him to find him staring at me with a look I can only describe as horror. “What? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, and then, more firmly, “no. It’s good. They’re good people. Have a good time. Say hi from me. If Easton’s there, don’t talk to him.”
“What?”
“He’ll flirt with any woman with a pulse, and he’s especially prone to trying to seduce women his brothers are interested in. We’ve almost disowned him several times, but he’s such a magnet, we can’t afford not to keep him around.”
I giggle.
He pulls into my driveway and parks, then leans over and kisses me. Hard. Sweeping his tongue into my mouth, cupping my head, leaving me breathless.
Drawing back, he smiles at me. “Damn. Now I don’t want you to get out of the truck.”
“My cousin’s coming for dinner and my mom made ropa vieja, so I have to. But I’ll see you Sunday. For a Perez-Wilder family dinner.”
“Oh, right,” he says. “Oh. That’ll be—challenging. Maybe I should just tell Connor before that so we don’t have to pretend nothing’s going on.”
I tilt my head. “Is it worth telling him, when I’m leaving?”
Brody scowls, which he hasn’t done for a while. And I have to admit, as much as I love his smile, I love his scowl, too. “I guess not,” he says. “Why rock the boat when it doesn’t have to be rocked?”
I give him one more kiss, then exit the truck. As I’m walking around it to the house, he lowers the window and calls, “Rach.”
“Yeah?”
“When you go out with the girls tomorrow night?”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“Don’t believe everything they tell you.”
Then he drives away.
I replay that line in my head a bunch of times.
He doesn’t sound like he’s teasing.