He rests up onto his elbow. “Tell me why you broke up again.”
I exhale and look up at the ceiling. “We met when we were fifteen.”
He stays silent as he listens.
“And we were kids. Our love was puppy love.” I look over at him to see how he’s handling this, and he smiles over at me. His smile gives me courage to go on.
“But I always just thought we would break up one day, you know? And I was going to do all the things that I had always wanted to do.”
He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips.
“But we never did.” I stare sadly at the air conditioning vent up in the ceiling.
“And then ten months ago he asked me to marry him.”
Brock’s smile fades, a frown taking over his face.
“But I didn’t want to get married, and…” I shake my head as I go back to the dreadful day when I told him we were over.
“You don’t want to get married?” He frowns.
My eyes meet his. “I do. Now, I do.”
His face falls. “You want to get married now?”
I giggle. “Don’t panic I don’t mean now, now.”
He smiles. “Go on.”
I frown as I try to tell the story as accurately as I can. “I ended up asking Simon for a twelve-month break and he accepted. I promised him I would return to him and that I wouldn’t meet anyone else.”
Brock’s eyes hold mine. He already knows how the rest of the story goes. “But you met me,” he whispers t.
I get a lump in my throat and I nod sadly. “Not only did I meet you, I fucked you in the worst way possible.”
“Pock.” He sighs as he cups my face. “Can you stop saying that? It wasn’t like that. We were so attracted to each other that we couldn’t help it.”
That’s not the real story and he knows it.
“The thing is, Brock… meeting you, being with you, it all made me realise that my feelings for him weren’t real or true.”
He frowns again, his eyes searching mine.
“I never…” I sigh heavily.
“You never what?”
“I never felt with him what I feel when I’m with you.”
“What do you mean?”
My eyes search his. “Sometimes I feel like I will die if you don’t touch me.”
Tenderness crosses his face, and he leans in to kiss me softly.
“The thing is, I realised that I loved Simon, but I wasn’t in love with him anymore.” I run my hand through his hair. “And even if you and I hadn’t of worked out, Simon wasn’t the man for me.”
He nods, not needing to tell me he understands. His face says it all.
“And it sucks, you know.” My eyes fill with tears. “Because he never did anything wrong.”
Brock cups my face in his hands.
“He loved me so much,” I whisper.
He puts his arm around me, and I rest my head on his chest. I run my hand idly over his heart and his abs as I think.
“I hope he meets someone.” Sadness overwhelms me as I imagine him sad and alone tonight.
Brock pulls me close and kisses my forehead. “It’s not your fault, Tully.”
I frown up at him. “You don’t think?”
“People change.”
“Have you changed?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, I’ve changed. A lot, actually.”
“How?”
“Well, I had my first girlfriend when I was sixteen.”
I smile up at him. “What was her name?”
“Rebecca.”
I bite my bottom lip. “What happened with Rebecca?”
His eyes widen. “It was a complete disaster.”
I giggle. “Why?”
“Rebecca fell in love with me and I fell in love with her mother.”
I blink and stare. “Don’t tell me you…”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, clearly amused. “God, no.”
“You fell for her mum?”
He chuckles. “A bit. She was a total babe. Her name was Stephanie, and she was the focus of many a spank banking session”
I laugh out loud and slap his chest. “Brock. Who in the hell jerks off over their girlfriend’s mother?”
He shakes his head. “Right? Anyway, I kind of realised that maybe girlfriends and I don’t really mix.”
I frown. “Wait, so…? You’ve never been in love? Like, ever?”
He shrugs. “I was away with the Navy, and I was never in the same place for a long time. I got a bit…”
“A bit what?
“Detached, I guess.”
I smile as I lie in his arms. “We’re a great couple, aren’t we?”
He kisses my temple.
“I was too attached, and you were too unattached.”
“Until I met you…” he admits quietly.
I smile goofily up at him. “Do you believe in fate, Brock?”
He purses his lips as he thinks.
“I think I was meant to meet you when I did,” I whisper dreamily. “When the time was right.”
“You think you were meant to dump me the next day like you did, too, huh?” He shakes his head. “I was fucking cut up.”
“Exactly. If I hadn’t dumped you, I would have been just like every other girl you met in the past and you’d be long gone by now.”
He frowns as he listens.
“The only reason I got through to you was because I didn’t fall at your feet.”
He kisses me and pulls me close to his chest.
“You can fall at my feet now,” he whispers seductively.
I close my eyes and smile. I feel so safe in his arms. “I always do.”
Brock is sitting on the floor with his back propped up against the wall while I lie with my head on his lap. We’re waiting at the airport and our flight has been delayed by three hours-not enough time for us to go home but just enough time to drive you crazy. Brock is looking through the photos on my phone, and every now and then he smiles as he looks at an image of me. I keep catching him sending them to his phone.
“Where was this? He shows me a picture of me and Callie.
“Vietnam.”
He nods and keeps scrolling.
“Why do you save all these motivational memes?” He smirks.
“To motivate myself.” I giggle.
He shakes his head and chuckles as he keeps scrolling through. I smile as I watch him. He’s learning about me from my photos, drinking in a little piece of me with every shot.
“Why do you take photos of menus in restaurants?” He frowns as he scrolls.
“So that I have all the menus handy and I can see what I want before I go there if I ever go back.”
His eyes find mine. “Or could just wait until you get there and see it then.”
“Don’t make fun of my quirks.”
He smirks and keeps scrolling, and then he frowns and looks up at me. “Why do you have this information on anger and anabolic steroids?”
Oh shit. “Erm.” I frown, not knowing if I should I tell him why I saved that. “When I first met you in the gym I thought you were on steroids and that’s why you had anger issues. I thought you were having a ‘roid rage.”
“What? Are you serious?”
I shrug. “Well, you are super buff, and you were slightly scary.”
His face falls. “My anger scares you?”
I nod. “A bit.”
“Why?”
“Because you aren’t my Brock when you’re like that. I don’t like the person you become.”
He swallows sadly, and his eyes go back to the images. He doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the way he starts to play with my hair as he processes my words and pretends to look at more photos.
“You said that we could deal with my anger as long as I gave you another side of me,” he reminds me, his voice carrying a hint of hurt.
“I can, Brock, but you are no good to me in jail for murder, are you?”
He exhales heavily but doesn’t reply, and I know I’ve hit a nerve with him.
I think I may have hurt his feelings, but it had to be said. I have no choice but to always be honest.
We walk onto the staircase of the plane and are immediately hit by a wall of heat. “My God, it’s hot.” I sigh. The air is humid and steamy.
We are in Hawaii. Aloha!