Page 12 of Impressing Brett

He kicks the pants out of the way as if it’s no big deal they’re on the floor. I know it’s an act. There might even be a vein throbbing on the side of his temple.

Finally, he tucks the covers around me and sets a hand on the other side of my body. He meets my gaze. “What were the tears in the bathroom for, Little lamb?”

Jeez. Nothing gets by this man. “My mother used to dry my hair for me,” I whisper.

He reaches with his other hand to stroke a lock of hair from my temple. “Where is she now?”

“Dead.”

He freezes for a moment.

“Sorry. That was harsh. She left me when I was twelve.”

“Left you?”

“That’s what it felt like.” Why am I telling him all this?

“I’m so sorry. That must have been hard. I take it you had a strained relationship with your father?”

“Yes. He didn’t want children. He let my mother have just one. Me. But he wasn’t very good at being a father, and then he was left with a twelve-year-old girl to raise on his own.”

“Oh, Lacy. That’s awful. You must have been so lonely.”

I swallow and look away as tears form and slide down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I keep making you cry.” He strokes my cheeks again. “Seems like you’ve been holding yourself together by a thread, probably for a few weeks. You need a good cry.”

I shake my head. “He doesn’t deserve my tears.”

Brett’s brow furrows. “It’s hard losing a parent, no matter how estranged you were. It still hurts.”

I shrug. My father’s death is only a fraction of my problems.

Brett leans forward and kisses my forehead, his lips lingering for a long time before he pulls away. He holds my gaze for a while. “Sleep, Little lamb. We can talk more in the morning.”

I watch as he slowly rises. He picks up my pants and sets them on the open suitcase now sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed. He smiles at me as he does so. At the door, he turns off the light. Immediately, a nightlight comes on. It’s pink, and I think the figure is a princess.

He turns toward me again from the doorway. “I’ll leave the door ajar. My room is at the end of the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He hesitates before finally leaving. Indeed, he leaves the door open a few inches. The lights in the hallway go off a few seconds later.

I suddenly draw in a deep breath. I don’t know when I last took a breath. It makes me smile. He really does suck all the oxygen out of a room.

What’s happening? It’s like I’ve left my body and become someone else. I haven’t even thought about my pile of problems in a few hours.

They certainly haven’t disappeared. And shit. Where did I leave my purse? I think I set it in the kitchen when we came in. My phone is down there. I haven’t checked it in hours, either.

Not that I want to. Any messages on it are probably ones I don’t want to see. I’m glad it’s downstairs. It’s going to stay there all night. I wonder if I turned the ringer off, though?

Hopefully, Brett won’t hear it in my purse if he gets up early in the morning. Maybe if I’m lucky, it will die and lie there silently.

Pink lights are dancing around on the ceiling. I glance at the nightlight and notice it’s not a princess. It’s a ballerina, and she’s spinning. I almost understand why Eve and her friends would have made this room feminine for guests. They might have even been teasing him when they did it. But the nightlight?

There are other interesting touches in the room. One of them is the teddy bear that is somewhere next to me. I sit up and scan the bed until I find him, grab him, and pull him under the covers with me.

No one needs to know that I usually sleep with a stuffed animal, especially not Brett. My favorites are trapped in my apartment. I hope they aren’t damaged. I’ll be sad if I’ve lost any of my most sentimental things.

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