Page 65 of Hard to Fake

“It’s not necessary.”

“My friend Ruby is a doctor. She says she loves seeing patients when there’s nothing broken. It makes her day,” Brooke offers.

Grams laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We say goodbye and head for the door.

“Thank you,” I say as we leave my grandmother’s room and start down the hall together. “For everything.”

Brooke waves me off. “The shoes weren’t expensive.”

It’s not about the money, I want to say.

"This place used to be better.” I notice once again the lack of staff as we leave.Frustration rises up, and I take a deep breath. "She’s done so much for me, and I hate the idea that she doesn’t have everything she wants.”

I can’t be here for my grandmother all the time, no matter how much she needs me. I’ll never repay what she did for me.

Brooke hooks her pinkie in mine. “You’re doing great.”

It’s a simple touch, but she doesn’t pull back as we walk side by side, me adjusting my strides to her shorter ones.

I open the passenger door for her and she shifts inside. I round to the driver’s side and get in.

"Miles?" she says as I fasten my seatbelt.

“Yeah?” I stare through the windshield.

"When I said you didn't care enough about anything… I was wrong.”

Her eyes are soft and full of understanding. I can feel my walls crumbling down as she looks at me with such acceptance.

I’m surrounded by guys every day I care about, but sometimes I feel completely alone.

I look at her.

Really look at her.

The shadows falling across her face make her seem younger and more vulnerable.

It shouldn’t be appealing, but she fucking calls to me.

She leans across the console and brushes her mouth over mine.

Time stops.

Brooke’s scent is warm and floral. Her lips are soft and determined.

The brush of her skin on mine, the way her fingers slide into my hair as she shifts closer, the tiniest sigh—they’re pieces of an addictive puzzle I never asked to play.

But I can’t stop.

I lean across the console and drag her toward me on a groan.

Her breasts crush against my chest. Her mouth parts as I kiss her back.

She tastes sweet. Dangerous. The way she meets me with every touch…she isn’t starstruck. When her hand presses against my chest, it’s like she owns me.

I want seconds and thirds. Want to go back to her every damned moment for more.

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