Page 99 of Light My Fire

“She told me that too,” Jackson says, holding his hand up for the bartender.

“Guess she needs space from all three of us,” I say. “Can’t say I blame her. We probably overwhelmed her by all texting her that same night.”

It’s actually kind of funny to think we all waited until her finals were over, then we blew up her phone simultaneously. When Wyatt and Jackson both admitted they texted her Friday night, I wonder now why it didn’t occur to me at the time we were all doing that.

Then again, we didn’t seem to overwhelm her at the cabin.

She was all on board then. But that was flirting and sex.

What happened at the cabin was supposed to stay at the cabin, but it didn’t. Not for me, and clearly not for these guys.

We’re at my favorite bar, Eddie’s, because we finally pulled our heads out of our asses and realized we need to clear the air about Brooke.

“I was texting her about the dogs,” Jackson says. “That’s a valid reason to reach out to her. If anyone overwhelmed her, it was Wyatt.”

“Hey,” Wyatt protests.

But he doesn’t really deny it.

“I thought you wanted to meet to tell us you’re going to Minneapolis to see her. Which I would be cool with, by the way. I know you and Brooke are a good fit for each other.” A better fit than me and her.

I’ve spent night after night turning it around and around in my head and in spite of what I confessed to Carrie about falling for Brooke, it doesn’t really change anything if she wants to be with Wyatt. Especially considering she asked me to stop texting her. Which I have respected.

Did it give me a jolt of both love and lust when she said she was catching feelings for me and missed me?

Hell fucking yeah.

Because I miss her too.

And I’m damn sure I’m either falling in love with her or I already am in love with her. Which, for me, is a little terrifying, I’m not going to lie.

Did that text also make me realize that she was right?

It’s too hard.

Yep. I agree with that.

“Here’s the thing,” Wyatt says, sounding excited. He’s actually bouncing his knee up and down rapidly, a sign he has too much energy to sit still. “She’s not in Minneapolis. She’s in Chicago.”

My shoulders stiffen, and my heart starts to race.

Here. She’s in town and we could see her, touch her?

I envision running my fingers through her silken strands of hair and leaning in to kiss her, my hand running up the smoothness of her bare thigh.

Jesus. My dick gets instantly hard.

It makes me want to throw all my resolve out the window and drive straight to her.

“Wait, what?” Jackson stops trying to get the bartender’s attention, drops his arm and swivels toward Wyatt, who is between us. “She’shere?”

Wyatt nods. “For the next two years. She’s doing her internship here.”

I’m stunned. “Wow. Okay. How do you know that?”

“I called her to tell her I had to see her and I was booking a flight to Minneapolis.”

Of course he did. I snort.

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