Page 117 of The Sounds of Her

“I don’t care.”

“What are you saying?” the hint of fear mixed with hope guts me.

“Maybe it’s not a charade anymore.”

I kiss her to stop her from saying something that may hurt too much. She kisses me back, even if it is short, it’s still sweet and a promise I mean what I’m saying. We won’t talk about it now. I’d rather spend the night getting reacquainted, and not only in the bedroom.

I’m not about to let her get inside of her head and push me away, so I pull back and get to my feet. She watches me, curious, as I discard the condom and pull on my underwear, then walk out of the bedroom.

Brooke is the kind of woman who needs to come to her own decisions. I’ll help her along, but not by forcing her to admit her feelings. I pull up the number for one of my favourite takeout places and dial in an order, then grab the glasses of wine we left earlier.

When she comes into the room, she is wearing a white robe and I’m pretty sure, nothing else. The woman is sent to tempt me.

“I ordered food. Should be here within twenty minutes.” I walk towards her, hand her a glass and she sips it, her eyes watching my every move.

“Do you have Broadcast News?”

One brow lifts. “You want to watch my favourite movie?”

“Yep. And we’ll watch Titanic right after.”

She rolls her eyes and walks across to the entertainment unit, opening the doors to reveal a DVD player inside, together with a substantial collection of DVDs. Old school, I like it.

“I don’t have Titanic.”

I follow her over and take a seat on the couch. “I’m sure we can stream it somewhere.”

My grin stretches as she sits down. I set my wine glass on the table beside me and tug her into me. Brooke doesn’t say anything about it, she starts the movie and settles against me, only moving when the food arrives.

“Thai food?” she asks in surprise.

“It’s your favourite, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” she bites her lip.

“I listen,” I tell her, and bring the cartons over to the coffee table.

She eyes me, still says nothing as we sit down on the floor and tuck into the food. After the movie is over, I admit I was yanking her chain about Titanic. I slept through half of it when Nick made me watch it.

“You’re such a jerk,” she shoves my arm.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I say as she sets her glass down between her legs, drawing my eyes there. I was wrong, she has panties on beneath the robe.

Her throat clears and I look back at her face. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

Brooke dips her head, so her hair falls over part of her face, obscuring her eyes from me.

I reach over and brush the hair back. “Is it that hard a question?”

“No,” she rubs her fingertips over her lips. “I dance.”

“Dance? In nightclubs, on tables?” I grin, knowing she does that stuff all the time.

“No, actual dance. I’m a trained dancer. I’ve been doing it since I was seven.”

“No shit, like ballet?” The thought of that almost gets me hard.

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