An Unexpected Love Story (Love Story Book Two) (10 page)

Finishing up my first lap, I skated by John, waving as I went. He wolf-whistled at me as I passed. Knowing he was watching, I decided to show off a little; I transitioned smoothly into a backward stride, blowing a kiss at him, before managing a little spin, feeling my long hair flip around me as I went. I heard his laughter behind me as I skated on, and a rush of warmth shot through me, immediately followed by a dart of worry that I was getting in over my head.

It’s just flirting
, I told myself firmly as I sped by the group of teenagers.
That’s all
.

“Get over here, you gorgeous woman!” he called out as I made my last turn. Half the people in the area turned to look at us, but I couldn’t make myself care. His smile as I approached made everything else fade away. He managed to grab me as I skated past, pulling me up against him as he stood braced against the wall. I wrapped my arms around his neck, giggling as he kissed me, completely oblivious to the wolf-whistles from the teens.

Oh, Brooke
, I thought to myself as I kissed him back.
You are falling too fast. Way too fast.

Chapter Ten

We ate lunch at a little diner in town. Afterward, John wanted to walk down to the harbor, but I figured I had been away from work long enough. John drove me back to the inn and walked me up the stairs to the porch.

“Aren’t you coming in?” I asked, as he paused in front of the door.

“I’m supposed to meet someone,” he said apologetically.

“A business meeting now?” I asked, looking at my watch. “At three on a Saturday?”

“It’s not technically a business meeting,” he said. “Just something I need to do.”

My curiosity over his reasons for being in town was starting to drive me crazy. It wasn’t very often that we had people pass through on business. I mean, what kind of business would an out-of-state lawyer have to do in a place this small and out of the way? But John seemed in no hurry to divulge any details, so I let it go. It was none of my business—I was very clear on what I was to him; a fun time on a weekend away, nothing more.

The thought depressed me. Wanting a distraction, I grabbed his arm, pulling him down the wrap-around porch until we were out of view of the front door. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reached up to kiss him, hard on the mouth.

“Wow,” he breathed, pulling back a moment later. “What was that for?”

“A congratulations for a job well done,” I said. “Your first ice-skating session was a success.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I don’t know about that. But it was fun.” He kissed me again. “It was fun because you were there.”

“I had a good time with you,” I agreed.

“Me, too. And I had a
great
time with you last night,” John said softly, kissing my forehead. “I’d love to see you again tonight.”

“I’d like that, too,” I whispered, closing my eyes and leaning into him. He felt so good, his arms so strong around me.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” he said, kissing me one last time.

After he left, I stood on the porch for a minute, the warmth of our encounter keeping the chill of the November air from penetrating my hazy daydream.

“Really, Brooke?” a harsh voice said from behind me. I spun to see Paul standing at the corner of the building. “That guy?”

“It’s none of your business,” I said, embarrassed at being caught. I wondered how much he had heard.

“Last night, eh?” he said, his voice more like a snarl. Crap. Apparently he had heard quite a bit. “Should I take that to mean you were with him last night?”

“You should take it to mean butt the hell out, Paul.”

He just stared at me for a long moment. My heart was pounding and my cheeks were flushed, hot against the bite of the wind that I could now feel fully. Finally Paul shook his head, looking disgusted.

“This has to be a new record, even for you, Brooke,” he said, a note of malice in his voice I had never heard before. “Two different guys in two days. I’d say I was impressed, if I wasn’t feeling so nauseated.”

My stomach dropped. I felt like he had slapped me—the skin on my face literally tingled as if I had been struck. Paul had never insulted me before, not in a serious way. And he had certainly never said anything to make me feel like a slut. He was usually the one who was defending me from those kinds of attacks, not making them.

Before I could do more than stare at him in shock, he had turned and walked away, leaving me to feel worse about myself than I had in years.

* * *

I had a hard time getting through the afternoon after that. Everything had gone well in my absence. My dad was completely enthralled with the gamers. They had taught him how to play
Skyrim
and
Dungeons and Dragons
while I was gone. I had a feeling he would be in the inn for the remainder of their stay. “Thanks a lot,” I said to Kyle as I watched my dad do battle with a dragon on the screen. “My mom is going to kill me when she hears about this.”

Kyle laughed. “It’s good for him to have a new hobby,” he said. “Isn’t he getting close to retirement age, anyhow? This could give him something to do to pass the time.”

Once I was sure everything was going okay, I headed into my office, shutting the door behind me. I sank into my desk chair, and brought my head to my hands. My stomach churned as I thought about Paul’s words. In my mind, I replayed similar taunts that I’d been hearing over the past ten years or so. It was just a fact of my life; because of the way I looked, and because I had always refused to act like some simpering airhead, I was branded a slut.

I remembered Paul’s words and a fresh wave of shame washed over me. I
had
gone from his bed to another man’s. Was that really so terrible? I knew for a fact that he himself had seen more than one girl at a time. And it wasn’t like I was dating either of them.

Nope, just sleeping around with them
, a nasty voice in my head said. I sighed, feeling even sicker than I had before, and picked up my phone to call the one person I could trust to tell it to me straight.

Emily, to her credit, listened without comment as I told her what I had done the night before, though I know she probably was desperate to ask for details. When I finished telling her what Paul had said, she swore loudly.

“Listen to me, Brooke Murray,” she said, her voice firm. “There is nothing wrong with you, okay? You know that Paul has done his share of bed hopping. What right does he have to criticize you?”

“You know it’s different for girls,” I said softly. “Boys don’t get called sluts when they do what I did this weekend.”

“Well that’s bullshit then,” she said. “You are
not
a slut. You are a grown woman and you can make your own choices. Did you make a commitment to either of them? Did you trick either of them or lie to them?”

I didn’t answer and she sighed. “Well, did you?”

“No,” I said softly. “I didn’t do any of those things. I just slept around.”

“Babe, the only litmus test you need to pass is the one
you
feel comfortable with,” she went on. “I know the things that matter to you. You are honest and loyal and you’re good to people. You don’t lie or manipulate. You don’t play games. And you didn’t break any of those rules last night. So what the hell do you have to feel guilty about?”

“Nothing, I guess,” I said. I was starting to feel better in spite of myself.

“That’s right,” she said, sounding pleased. “Please, don’t let Paul Harting make you feel bad. You know he’s just jealous.”

“I guess.”

Emily was quiet for a moment. “Brooke, how were you feeling about this before you ran into Paul?”

I thought about that. “Well, I felt pretty bad about myself last night, before I even hooked up with John. Just knowing that I was considering it made me feel guilty. But once it actually happened…I don’t know. I didn’t feel so guilty anymore. I was too busy feeling happy.”

Emily was quiet again. “Em?”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out how much of this is because of what Paul said and how much of it is what you actually feel. Look, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what you did, but if you’re feeling uncomfortable about it…”

“I should stop being such a hussy?”

Emily laughed. “To put it much more bluntly than I would have. Brooke, I just want you to be happy, you know that, right?”

“Of course,” I said. And then, since we were fast approaching sappy territory, I added, “you big loser.”

“Thanks for that, bitch,” she said drily, making me laugh. Emily wasn’t big on swearing, at least not compared to me. Even back in high school, Paul and our friend Chris had always said I could out-cuss any boy in our class. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. But it might not be a bad idea to spend some time thinking about what you really want, you know?”

“Are you back on the boyfriend kick now?”

“I didn’t say boyfriend. Only you know what will make you happy. But I think it’s important that you try to figure out what that is. If you’re confident in your decisions, you’ll be a lot less likely to get your panties all in a twist because of something that the Pauls or Justines of the world have to say. Right?”

“Yeah,” I said, sighing. We were getting very close to a subject we rarely discussed; my self-confidence, or lack of it, and the root cause behind why I did some of the things I did. Emily was the only person in the world who had even an inkling of why I sometimes acted the way I did—and why it was so hard for me to hear criticism about my sexual choices.

“How’s the convention going?” Emily asked, wisely knowing it was time to change the subject. I felt a rush of relief. Already my mind had started to drift back to a dark college dorm room, all those years ago. Memories like that just didn’t bear thinking about.

“It’s going really good,” I said, eager for the distraction. “The guys are a lot cooler than I thought they would be, and they seem like they’re having a great time. They even got my dad playing this afternoon.”

Emily laughed. “That’s a vision I’m having a hard time forming.” I heard noises in the background and her muffled voice; she must have covered the phone.

“Was that Elliot?” I asked, when she came back.

“Yeah. We’re supposed to be meeting some of his friends for a beer. But I can talk, I told him I’d be a minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m fine. I should get to work now anyhow.”

“Are you really okay?” she sounded unsure.

“I am,” I said firmly. “Promise. I feel much better. Thanks for the chat.”

“Any time,” she said. “Seriously. Even tonight, you can call me any time.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Elliot’s friends are really nerdy, so please feel free to interrupt, okay?”

“Got it.”

After I hung up, I stared at my desk for a while, wishing I had some busy work to distract me. I couldn’t help but replay over and over again what Paul had said. But I was finding that it had less sting than before. Emily had instructed me to think about what I truly felt comfortable with. If I was honest with myself, I felt far worse about my hook-up with Paul than I did about hooking up with a near stranger.

“I had fun with John,” I whispered. That was the simple truth. Both the day before and on our outing that afternoon I had really, really enjoyed myself. Maybe I
was
wrong to try and find comfort in Paul the other night. But I was done agonizing over John. We liked each other, we had fun together, and we only had two more nights.

I stood up from the desk, straightening my shoulders as I walked to the door. Paul could say what he liked. I knew what I wanted and I was done feeling guilty.

Chapter Eleven

Many hours later, I lay curled up in John’s bed, staring at the moonlight on the bay through the window. “It’s a nice view,” I murmured sleepily.

“Even better from back here,” John said from behind me, running a hand lazily down my hip. I could hear the amusement in his voice, and it made me smile.

“I should probably get up,” I said a few minutes later. “I have to be up really early to make sure the breakfast is all set up.” The convention was set to end the following morning with a breakfast banquet. Apparently awards would be given out and the officers would be nominated for the next year. According to Kyle, it was the highlight of the entire year.

“What time do they check out?” John asked.

“Noon.” Only twelve more hours to go, and I’d be free. I was expecting a week or two of relative quiet before we started getting guests in for Thanksgiving. I frowned. It was hard to anticipate the week ahead so eagerly when it meant John would be gone.

“Then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow afternoon?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my stomach. I leaned back into him.

“Yup. I’ll have some cleanup to do after check out, but then I’m free as a bird.”

“Excellent,” John said, nuzzling the back of my neck. “I can’t wait. Now, let’s discuss this whole, you need to get up nonsense. I do not approve.”

“You don’t, huh?”

“Nope.” Suddenly John sat up in bed. “Unless, that is, I get to get out of bed with you.”