Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (19 page)

Or it could and he just wasn’t willing
to.

Elliott methodically swished his razor
through the water. If not the fellowship, another degree? If not
another degree, what? He’d stay in school all his life if he could.
It’d be nice to make some money doing it. His heart beat faster at
the very idea. Him. Teaching, researching, publishing.

His hand stilled in the water. The strong
soapy scent of his shaving cream clung to his skin.

He’d put a lot of years into this path. What
if they were wasted? That’s where his mom would speak up. She would
scold him. Never, she’d insist. You’ve only got one shot at life,
Elliott, her hand squeezing his. Don’t waste it wondering, what if?
The worst thing in the world is regret. Chase your dream down, grab
it by the legs, bite, kick, scream. Just get it. Because you’re
worth it. How many times had she held his chin, stared him in the
eye and spoken those words?

Steam collected on the mirror, blocking his
reflection. He pulled the sink plug and watched the foamy, speckled
water circle down.

You’re worth it.

He could forgo examining exactly how much he
wanted, but he wouldn’t lie to himself in the meantime. He didn’t
know much about Brooke. She tried hard, she hid her true self from
most of the world. And something about her spoke to deep parts of
him. If he wanted her, he had to decide.

His chest ached, sweet and low. Brooke. He
closed his eyes, let himself feel what she did to him. If she
rejected him again, it would be punishing. But, nothing ventured,
nothing gained. No guts, no glory. Just do it. Carpe diem, right?
Not a cliché in the book covered it, though.

Ring, phone, ring
.

All he could do was wait. So, he did.

Four hours later, he clicked the TV off.
Several long moments, he sat in the dark. Listening. Traffic from
the freeway. The neighbor’s dog barking low. His own heartbeat, a
dull roar in his ears. A growing ache hollowed his insides out.
What else could he do to get her alone?

At last, he tossed the remote control on the
coffee table. His feet moved heavily as he strode up to his room.
He lay in bed, hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. One
last time, he willed her,
call
. He didn’t want to give up,
but he had to be careful. Couldn’t just show up on her doorstep
with flowers. Start stalking her.

This wasn’t boombox outside the window time.
Not yet.

Sleep on it. Best thing to do.

He rolled over, fought to quiet his mind.
Eyes closed. Her face surfaced in his imagination. The way the
light played on her skin. Her eyes full of emotion, bared for him
to see. He couldn’t have been wrong. What he’d seen today had been
real. Had to trust her a little.

She’d call.

Probably just had one overly suspicious
friend keeping her busy. Or maybe she’d figured out her ex-husband
was gay. Gordon hadn’t been a wealth of information on Brooke since
that day at the mall, but he had sworn, no one knew. Discovering
something like that had to be hard on a woman like Brooke. On any
woman. But, particularly Brooke. She was a perfectionist at heart.
He could tell in the concise way she wrote, the contained way she
kept herself.

He nodded in the dark and adjusted his
pillow. No use trying to figure it out right now. Tomorrow he’d see
his dad. Better to focus on tomorrow, on family and what really
mattered. Maybe he would tell his dad about her.

Moxie….

Chapter Fifteen

The second Brook awoke, she sat up. Where was
she? Oh yeah. Millie’s. The sofa springs creaked beneath her. Her
eyes struggled to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the
blinds. She peeled back the afghan blanket and rubbed her face.

Shit. She was supposed to be working today.
She didn’t have to look to know, she was late for her first estate
sale. She couldn’t afford missing a sale. She needed product and it
would all be picked clean if she didn’t haul her butt in gear.

She grabbed for her cell phone. 9 a.m.! She
had to get out of here. Moving sales didn’t happen often enough in
the winter to consider skipping out. As it was, she’d need to hit
some antique shops and thrift stores this week too. Christmas
shopping had depleted her stock of treasures and it would only get
worse. Or better, if she had the right stuff.

Getting up, Brooke whip-folded the blanket
over the back of the sofa and gathered her clothes.

Peering about, she heard soft noises from the
kitchen. The music of someone making coffee? God, she hoped so. She
rushed to the bathroom. Wiping her face with one hand, she tugged
on the hot pink velour pants and jacket Millie offered her last
night. Some borrowed deodorant and a finger toothpaste scrub, and
she could face the bargain hunter world. No one at a moving sale
would care what she looked like anyhow.

Timing was crucial.

Brooke stepped out of the bathroom, ready to
scratch a note off to Millie and go. If she left now, she’d get
there by 9:30. She’d pick through everything, then head to Save You
Thrift on the way back. Maybe she could hit St. Vincent’s on
4
^th
Street, too.

Millie stepped in her path, blessed coffee in
hand. “All ready to go?” she asked rather perkily.

Brooke downed a third of the cup’s contents,
nodding. “I overslept.” She left out accusing Millie for keeping
her up so late. It was her own dumb fault for not triple checking
her cell phone’s alarm. “I should have left three hours ago.”

“Uh-oh. Will it be worth going still? We
could go to breakfast.”

“I can’t.” Brooke tried to ignore how hopeful
Millie sounded. “I just hope I find some merchandise,
regardless.”

She’d already spent Thanksgiving night, plus
Friday day and night here. If Millie tried to keep her any longer,
she’d think something was definitely up. More than the “don’t be
alone for the holidays” excuse Millie pressed on her after leaving
Nancy’s.

“If not,” Brooke continued, “well, if not,
I’m screwed. I’ll either have to sacrifice a chicken to the eBay
gods or drive to Sacramento for the swap meet.” She hated the
drive. This time of year Donnor Pass always required snow tires or
chains.

Worse, it could close altogether. She
couldn’t count on Sacramento as an option.

Brooke headed for Millie’s door. Despite the
panic, she also felt good. The last two days here had given her
time to think, to get some perspective. Nothing like a day in
pajamas—borrowed or not—eating junk food and watching reruns with
her best friend to get her head straight.

“Can I come?” Millie asked, following her to
the door.

“Come with me?” To a moving sale? “You do
remember where I’m going, right?”

“Of course. It’s a yard sale thingy. Elvis
hunting.”

Brooke supposed Millie should get some credit
for correct answers, even if saying them puckered her mouth.

“I’d love the company, Millie, but I think
you’d be really bored.” A bit irritating, too. “I really have to
get going.”

“Me, bored? Are you kidding? I love Elvis.”
Millie donned her coat as she spoke. “It’ll be fun.”

This wasn’t like Millie. Brooke hid her
doubts behind another drink of coffee. When AJ had been absent all
day, Brooke hadn’t thought much of it. But she couldn’t help
noticing last night how stiffly he’d spoken to Millie.

Brooke didn’t want to pry, but maybe she
should ask Millie if everything was okay with AJ. Even perfect
couples had problems. That much she could attest to. “You can come
along, Millie, but this is work for me. If you get bored, you’ll
sort of be stuck until I’m done.”

“I won’t be bored.” She crossed her heart and
grabbed her purse. “I swear. Now, let’s go. Elvis awaits.”

Brooke set down her empty cup and picked up
her purse. If Millie wanted to come, let her come. She bit back any
more questions, namely, why was Millie attaching herself to Brooke
so much?

If she found a chance, she’d broach the AJ
topic. Until then, she led Millie to the car, put it in drive and
headed toward North McCarran Blvd. The heater blasted warm air
against her cold hands and neck. The scents of the car and the cold
mixed with Millie’s designer perfume.

Millie flipped through radio stations and
Brooke’s mind lulled. What a difference a couple days made.
Thanksgiving night, Brooke had left Nancy’s in a twist of confusion
and attraction. She’d been ready to call Elliott the second she was
alone.

In truth, she could thank Millie now for
browbeating her into staying over for girl time. Being there had
kept her from calling Elliott and begging him back into her
bed.

Elliott. Brooke never knew men came in his
flavor of sexy. He wore a sweater like a male model. She could just
see him posed in a black and white photo, his shocking blue eyes
framed by those glasses, piercing her. She wanted him all over
again.

Was he a player or a liar? She still couldn’t
say. He’d been about to explain himself when Millie came through
that door. Then at dinner, it felt like he was going to again. Her
mind screamed she shouldn’t, but she wanted to. Heartache, all
buttoned up, or not. For two days, her mind wound tighter around
Elliott’s pants.

Thankfully, now she had work to keep her
busy. Going home meant idle time. Idle time would bring her
straight back to the man she didn’t want right now.
Did
want, couldn’t have. Last week’s wadded Kleenex littered everywhere
would remind her.

Brooke downshifted and approached a red
light. She glanced at Millie who chewed a thumbnail and appeared
lost in thought. At least Brooke wasn’t the only one distracted
this morning.

The light changed to green. Millie remained
quiet, eyes out the window. Brooke sighed and shifted into
gear.

Thankfully, Millie wasn’t interrogating her
on Jason this morning. Who could Jason have been kissing? Could she
have been wrong? How had they met and on and on.

Had to be problems with AJ. Why else would
Millie be so nosy about Brooke’s failed marriage? Not to mention
the young comments about Elliott or her giggling over how he’d
passed out.

If Brooke didn’t talk about it, she wouldn’t
have to lie. Brooke couldn’t lie herself out of a wet paper bag.
Her voice got pitchy, her palms sweated, making her wipe them too
much, and she was pretty sure her eye twitched.

She glanced at Millie again, aware of the
silence. “AJ isn’t mad about Thanksgiving, is he?

“Huh? Oh, no. Not at all. He actually had
fun. Figures.”

She couldn’t tell Millie about Elliott any
more than she could prove what she overheard Jason doing. Besides,
the more she’d thought about it, the less she cared who Jason was
kissing. She and Jason were ancient history. He could kiss whomever
he wished. So could she. So
had
she, for that matter.

Could Millie be jealous somehow? Could she be
on a rescue mission?

Brooke didn’t need any more heroic gestures.
After that makeover, which miraculously hadn’t been a disaster,
Brooke would pass. Millie’s heart was in the right place, but her
methods left Brooke exhausted.

“Let’s go shopping!”

“Millie, I can’t. Working. Remember?”

“I meant afterwards.”

“I’m not really up for shopping. Not for fun,
anyways.” She’d kept saying she didn’t want to see Brooke hurt.
“Another time?”

“Okay.”

In their friendship, men had never been hot
topics. Neither had love. Life, family, even politics had colored
their conversations. Aside from an occasional gaga glance AJ’s way,
Millie was immune to love, wasn’t she? Brooke always liked that
about her.

Millie waved a hand in front of her. “You
okay?”

“Sorry, tired, I guess. What did you
say?”

“Where is this place?” Millie checked her
reflection in the visor mirror. “Is it much further?”

“We’re close.” Brooke checked the address
from her planner. It was a familiar neighborhood. “Two more
minutes, tops.”

If Millie was already fidgety, Brooke could
just imagine the slice of hell two hours from now would be. She
spotted the house and parked. “Speak now or forever hold all
complaints.”

“I’m not bored!” Millie blinked. “I won’t be,
either. You’ll see. We’ll have fun.”

She sounded about as convinced as Brooke
felt. “Look Millie, I don’t really know how to ask you this. It’s
really none of my business.” She paused. Millie’s worry for Brooke
had to stem from her own relationship problems. “Is something going
on with you and AJ?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I know it’s none of my business and I hate
to pry,” Brooke said. “But you’ve been a little bit…clingy the last
two days and I noticed AJ slept in his office all night. Is
everything okay with you two?”

Millie blanched. “Yes, silly. Things are
great with us. He didn’t sleep in his office. He worked late. And
I’m not clingy.”

Brooke got out of the car. Her borrowed hot
pink outfit hugged all the wrong places. “Uh, yeah, you are.”

Millie winced from across the car roof. “I
was worried about you, okay?”

“Well, don’t be. I’m fine.” Voice too high.
Hot flash. “I’m great. The Jason water has long passed under the
bridge.” And the Elliott river would, too. Soon. “Whatever happened
in that hallway is fine with me.”

“You’re right. I’m being overprotective.”

They walked up the sidewalk. A neon orange
poster board flapped in the wind: ‘Moving Sale’. At least something
was brighter than the ‘Juicy’ emblazoned on her ass. Millie had
suggested the getup last night, to help Brooke “loosen up”.
Anything was better than Nancy’s shirt, right? Wrong.

“If you’d seen your face when you told me
about Jason, well, you’d be worried too. And, I think that guy
Elliott was trying to pull something.”