Page 77 of Your Secret to Keep

Chapter 46

Brooks

WatchingLiameetWillowis one of my favorite interactions to date.

“I love you. I mean, I don’t love you. I don’t know you. It’s your music. All of it. I love it. Big fan. Sorry. Like, for making it weird or annoying or—” Her words run over each other and Willow gets her to stop talking by wrapping Lia in a hug.

I’ve met Willow a few other times, mostly in the Cosmos suite, and she’s one of the nicest people. It’s refreshing for someone like her—who has won every award and is one of the most successful artists of our time—to be so genuine and kind.

Lia looks at me, mouthing “OH MY GOD” as Willow hugs her and I can’t help but smile at my girl. Her excitement makes this all worth it. She’s not someone who thinks she’s owed something, and it makes all the difference.

We’re standing at the bar getting drinks. Willow and Tripp rented out Oasis for after the concert. It’s all friends, family, and concert staff letting loose and having some fun. Willow is going on a break after tonight, so it’s a little more laid back than a typical afterparty.

Willow invites Lia back to the table with her and Emilie. I nod, encouraging Lia to go as I wait for my drink.

“Hey Siri, play ‘U Got It Bad’ by Usher,” Clayton shouts playfully into his phone.

“That’s how you repay me? I suggest your bar for a once-in-a-lifetime dinner, and you’re busting my balls?” I shout. He reaches out for a high five and I give him one, laughing him off.

“Oh, come on. I’m just kidding. Well… I mean, I’m not, but we can pretend if that makes you feel better.” He shakes a drink and winks at me. “But this is pretty cool. Thanks for telling Zack about this place. Also, he likes the peanut butter whisky drink.”

I scrunch my face in disgust. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“So…you’re head over heels with the woman you saved from that dickhead? How did that happen?”

It’s not even worth arguing with him; plus, he isn’t wrong. “It’s a long story, and one that isn’t public.”

Clayton presses his lips together and stares pointedly at me.

“Text me what nights you’re free and we can go out for a drink. I’ll tell you what I can,” I suggest. A line starts to form at the b ar and Clayton is already pulling away from me, about to start taking orders.

He grins and says, “You got it. Thanks again for coming in, man. Good to see you.”

I walk back to the table and sit next to Zack, who is arguing with Tripp about some trick play in the Cosmos playbook. Lia sits with Willow and Emilie, laughing, pink-cheeked and fucking gorgeous.

Looking out the window, I see fat snowflakes falling. It’s as if Lia knows what I’m thinking, because her eyes find mine and I mouth, “pool night” while pointing to the window. She turns, sees the flurries, and mouths, “yes.”

Tonight has been fun, but I’m excited to get home. I’ve got plans with my girl.

The first snow of the season falls heavy and thick, quickly accumulating. The roads were slippery enough to drive slower than normal. We get back home and I use the app to pull the pool cover off—it’s one of the things I thought I’d never use in the house.

Home.

Lia makes this place feel like a home. It’s the way she likes to sit down and plan meals for the nights we’ll be together. Or how she smiles getting blankets out from the dryer, immediately finding me to wrap us up while it’s still warm.

And that is fucking scary. This whole arrangement is supposed to be temporary. Soon, her apartment will be finished, and she’ll go back living there and it will only be me and Rocky. I swear, his butt wags more when she walks in the door than I do—the dog will be crushed.

My therapy session highlights replay in my brain. I can’t necessarily control this whole situation, but I can be open. I can do that. I can tell her.

Fuck. Why do I feel like I’m at the top of a rollercoaster about to drop?

Lia comes down wrapped in a towel, her hair in a messy bun. Her eyes gleam when she says, “Well, I still don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Oh, what a shame,” I reply sarcastically. “How will I ever recover?”

She gives me a quick kiss while she walks past me. The towel is wrapped up, covering her chest, but when she’s in front of me, I can see her back is red—broken out in a rash, or hives, or something.

“Babe, your back,” I exclaim. “What’s wrong?”

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