Blur (Changing Colors Book 2) (28 page)

Fuck it.
I slide out of my bed, purposefully kicking the snoring twat in the gut as I climb out of the bunk. He grunts in response, but doesn’t budge from sleep. The man is a bloody grizzly bear. Zach doesn’t sleep. He hibernates.

I knock twice on the door and open it slow enough to give Brooke warning. For what I’m not sure, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.

“Hey,” I whisper, locking eyes with her. She’s sleepy-eyed, but still awake. Her laptop sits across her thighs, fingers tapping over the keys. They stop moving the instant she comprehends she’s no longer alone.

“Hey…” she pauses, abruptly shutting her laptop. “What are you still doing up?”

I shrug. “Bob’s backup took over driving a few hours ago. Dean and Thomas resided to the other bus. Everyone else is out, but trying to fall asleep with Zach snoring beneath you is like trying to stay dry during a hurricane.”

Brooke smiles softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “By all means, come on in and enjoy the peace and quiet. That door is a godsend. It manages to shut out everything else,” she says, scooting over and patting the spot beside her.

I shut the door and lean against it, sighing in relief. “God, I was praying you’d let me stay in here for a bit. My ears couldn’t take much more. I was half-tempted to post a ‘New Bass Player Needed’ ad on Craigslist and then suffocate Zach with my pillow.”

“That could have gotten ugly. Glad I was able to prevent a homicide.” She giggles. “I’m not good with hiding bodies, and I doubt I’d have enough bail money to get your sorry ass out of jail. Although, the idea of you in an orange jumpsuit might be worth it.”

Despite all of the things I want to do with Brooke in this bed, I keep my cool. We lie side-by-side, shoulders brushing against one another, while we stare up at the ceiling. My hands are folded over my stomach, hers resting at her sides. The bus softly rocks as we glide along the darkened highway.

I glance at the laptop that now sits on the bedside table. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, of course not. I was just fiddling around, browsing random articles on Buzzfeed.”

Turning on my side, I raise a skeptical brow. “Are you sure? You looked a little busy.”

She peeks out of the corner of her eye, fighting a secret grin. “Stop interrogating me, Bissette.”

Gripping her chin, I turn her gaze to mine. “Were you up to no good, Sawyer?”

“No,” she answers, but it’s not convincing.

I waggle my eyebrows. “You were up to no good, weren’t you? What were you really looking at, love?”

“God, you’re pervy!” She laughs. It’s a brilliant laugh. Sweet and soft and infectious. Just hearing that laugh makes me smile. “I was, in fact,
up to no good
, but it’s not in the way your randy brain is thinking,” she admits.

“Don’t act innocent. I know your brain can be just as filthy when it wants to be.”

She turns on her side, eyes still locked with mine. Her teeth snag at her bottom lip. Christ, her mouth. I’m in love with Brooke’s mouth. The upper lip is the same size as the bottom one, both soft and lush, and highlighted by gentle, pink curves. I’m dying to taste that mouth again, desperate to press my lips to hers and swallow her sweet whimpers.

But I won’t. I refuse to cross that line. Refuse to push Brooke into something she’s not ready for yet. ‘
Yet’ being the operative word.
Even though the intense yet tender emotions resting within the depths of her gaze reveal she’s thinking about it. In one way or another, Brooke is thinking about us.

I hope she’s remembering the way our lips together equal perfect kisses and endless passion. I pray she’s remembering all the ways I’ve kissed her before. All of the ways I’ve whispered the way I feel about her through soft kisses, deep kisses, mind-blowing kisses.

The soft sounds of Jeff Buckley’s voice fill the room as her iPod switches over to
Lover You Should Have Come Over
.

The urge to kiss her only builds. It’s become this living entity, pulsating between us. Our eyes refuse to leave one another, locked in a heady embrace. The unspoken truths pour from our souls.
I love her.
This she knows.
She loves me too.
This is something Brooke has never said, but it can’t be misconstrued while she looks at me with her heart in her eyes. It reaches out to me with each soft blink.

My hand rests against her cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. She sighs, and it’s a beautiful sound of contentment. A sound that solidifies that she wants to be here with me. No matter how much she tries to deny it, she wants this too.

I prop my hand under my head, looming over her. She doesn’t budge, doesn’t startle. Her breasts thrust forward as she inhales a deep breath. My index finger brushes against three small-discolored spots peppered across her forehead. Remnants of her recent case of Shingles. The skin is no longer an angry shade of red, mere shadows are all that remains.

“They look terrible, don’t they?” she asks, voice a softened whisper.

I shake my head, smiling at her. “No, love. They’re just healing. No one else would even know they’re there.” I run a finger down her cheek, paying homage to the small freckle beside her ear. “This is cute, Sawyer.”

“Cute…Tinkerbell… Ugh,” she groans. “I’m like the adorable kid sister.”

Running my nose across her hers, I shake my head. “I refute that claim. I wouldn’t have a head full of filthy thoughts if you were my kid sister.”

She raises a lovely brow. “You think rude thoughts about me, Bissette?”

“You know I do, Little Wing.” I purposefully slide my fingers behind her shoulder, running across that secret tattoo. The one that says she’s mine. The one that she’s still never explained. “You are the star of my dirty fantasies.”

Her tongue sneaks out from her perfect mouth, swiping across her bottom lip.

“Do you like the idea of being in my fantasies, Sawyer?” I ask, brushing my mouth across the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Do you like knowing you’re my favorite daydream?”

Any fucking time of day this girl needs a shelter from her reality, she can step into my daydreams. She lights my world on fire. A sun resting on the horizon isn’t a match for her. Nothing is as picturesque as Brooke.
My Brooke.

Her cheeks color at my words.

“No need to be shy. I’d die a happy man if I knew I was the star of your dirty fantasies. Do I, love? Do you think about me as much as I think about you?”

“Yes. You’re all I think about.”

I smile against her neck, nuzzling against her silky skin.

An incessant ringing sound fills the silent room. She startles beneath me, face turning towards the laptop on the bedside table. “Shit,” she mutters, glancing back at me with apologetic eyes. “This might be important.”

I sit up on the bed, back resting against the pillows.

She sits up too, setting the laptop on her thighs and opening it. Her fingers tap the touchpad, answering the Skype call from Ember. Her sister’s face fills the screen.

“Ember, what’s up? I’m surprised you’re still awake,” Brooke asks, concern etching her voice.

“Someone is refusing to go to bed until he hears his aunt sing for him. Apparently, my voice isn’t good enough.” Ember tilts the screen to the side, revealing Teddy, Brooke’s adorable, curly-haired nephew, lying beside her. They’re both lying on top of an Avengers-themed comforter.

“Hey, little man. Can’t sleep?”

He shakes his head, brow furrowed. “Nope, I’s need a good night rock lullaby, Auntie Brooke.” He touches the screen. “I miss you.”

A frown mars Brooke’s face. “I miss you too, buddy. I miss you so much.”

“Who’s that?” Teddy asks, catching sight of my shoulder that’s managed to slip onto the screen.

Brooke moves the laptop to put both of our faces onto the screen. “You remember my friend Dylan?”

Teddy nods. “You’re the one with the funny voice. The one my Auntie Brooke is helping make music, right?”

I chuckle. “That would be me.”

“Guess what, Teddy?” Brooke asks

“What?”

“Dylan did his own version of ‘
free heart smiles’
today. He gave a little boy named Alexander his guitar and iPod because that little boy’s mom doesn’t have a lot of money to buy him toys and gifts.”

“He doesn’t have any toys?” Teddy’s lips turn into a pout. “Do you think he wants some of mine? I can give him some of my cool superheroes. I’ve got an extra Hulk!”

Brooke smiles. “That’s really sweet of you, baby, but Alexander is very happy with his new guitar and iPod.”

“Auntie Brooke, are you going to be home for Christmas so we can do our free heart smiles pancake breakfast?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

He glances at me. “Can Dylan come?”

“Can I come where?”

Brooke’s eyes meet mine. “Every year on Christmas morning, Teddy and I make a ton of pancakes and fresh coffee—”

Teddy cuts her off, voice excited. “And then we go downtown and pass out the goodies to people who don’t have a nice, warm home to live in. We even bring some gifts just in case there’s kids.”

She nods. “It’s pretty sad how high the homeless rate is in LA. I’m surprised by how many people we find every year who have no place to go, and who couldn’t find space in one of the shelters.”

Her sister comes into view. “If Brooke didn’t love music, I swear she’d be running a shelter somewhere,” she adds, smiling warmly. “Hi, Dylan. I don’t think we’ve officially met, but I’m Ember.”

“Nice to meet you. Your sister goes on and on about how wonderful you are. I kind of feel like I already know you.”

Brooke prods me with her elbow. “Don’t make her think she’s more awesome than she is.”

Ember laughs. “I’m officially firing you from my client list. Find someone else to cut your damn hair.”

Brooke grins. “Hey now! Don’t be such a b-i-t-c-h.”

“Well, then don’t be such a c-u-n-t,” Ember retorts, holding up a middle finger behind Teddy’s head.

“I want to spell something! Let me play! Let me play!” Teddy chimes in. “Don’t be such a t-m-s-y-l.”

We’re all laughing at his innocent enthusiasm.

“Good one, buddy,” Ember says, running her fingers through his curls.

“Well, if I’m in LA on Christmas morning, count me in. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

“Hell yes!” Teddy shouts.

“Teddy! Language,” Ember admonishes.

I fight the urge to laugh. I don’t know what it is about a kid tossing around curse words, but damn, it’s hilarious.

“Sorry, mom,” he apologizes. His head tilts to the side. “Dylan, can you sing like my Auntie?”

“Well…I can sing, but my voice isn’t near as pretty as hers.”

Teddy grins. “Her voice is the prettiest. The very, very best voice in the whole wide world.”

“You are so right,” I agree.

“I know! I’m always right! Wahoooooo!” He fists pumps and starts to sit up, but his mom gently pushes him back down. “No, don’t get all hyped up and start bouncing around like a maniac. We called Brooke because it’s bedtime.”

Teddy groans. “But I wanted to show Dylan my Hulk Smash moves.”

“Next time, buddy,” Ember adds. “It’s too late and anyways, Brooke and Dylan are probably getting ready for bed too.”

“Do they sleep in the same bed together?” Teddy asks.

Ember and Brooke’s eyes go wide, completely taken off guard by his innocuous question.
I wish, buddy. I fucking wish.
That’s what I want to say, but I stop myself before making the situation worse. “No, little dude. I was just in Brooke’s room working on some music. I get to sleep in one of the cool bunks on the tour bus.”

Teddy’s eyes light up. “Like bunk beds?”

I nod, smiling. “Exactly like bunk beds.”

“I want a bunk bed so bad…” he pauses, and leans towards the screen. He’s so close that his hands cupping his mouth are the only things in view. “But my mom keeps saying no.” He attempts a whisper, but it’s more of a quiet yell. “Tell mom I need a bunk bed, Auntie Brooke.” Eventually he leans back, staring at Brooke with wide, pleading eyes as he nods his head.

“You got it,” she whispers, winking at him.

A giant grin spreads across his face.

“Okay, you two, no more secrets,” Ember teases.

Teddy laughs a secret giggle.

“We’ve got to get bed, buddy, so go ahead and ask Brooke for a song.”

He looks at Brooke, hands clutched together. “Will you sing me a song? Please, Auntie Brooke? Pretty, pretty please?”

Brooke nods. “Name the song, buddy.”

“
Paint It Black
!” he encourages.

Both Brooke and Ember laugh, shaking their heads. “No way, little man. Mick Jagger gets you too hyper,” his mom refutes.

“What about
Kashmir
? Yes! Play some Zeppelin!”

That has me chuckling. Figures Brooke’s nephew would be asking for bedtime lullabies to the sounds of The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin.

An amused expression fills her features. “How about a little Ella Fitzgerald?”

“The dream song?”

She nods. “Yep,
Dream a Little Dream of Me
.”

“Yes, I love that song, Auntie Brookie.” Teddy’s grin is as wide as the Pacific.

“Okay, give me a sec.” Brooke sets the laptop in the middle of the bed and pulls her guitar out of the case. She sits beside me again, legs crossed and guitar resting in her lap. Her fingers strum a few chords. “You know the rules, buddy. The song can’t start until you’re cozy in bed.”

Ember helps Teddy get under the covers, tucking him in, and kissing his forehead.

He smiles at his mom, and then looks back at Brooke. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Brooke starts to strum the opening riff, eyes falling closed as her lips release the lyrics. The song, all by itself, is beautiful, a wonderful tune that wraps you up and holds you close. But Brooke singing her own rendition of this song is beyond beauty. There are no words that could describe the silkiness of her voice, the raspy yet gentle vibrato she etches into each note.

Power lies beneath that soft and sweet voice, but Brooke keeps it toned down, for Teddy’s bedtime lullaby. God, she’s angelic. Sugar and honey, soothing and soulful, her heart is engraved into each word.