Page 59 of Only Between Us

“You taste good,” I tell him when I finish.

Brooks shakes his head, tucks his shirt into his pants. And when he catches up with me at the door, he takes my hand firmly in his before leading me back into the masses.

Chapter19Brooks

Siena unravels her hair from the messy knot on top of her head, letting it tumble over her shoulders. She shakes it out, massages her temples, and slides into her side of the bed. Completely calm in the wake of what happened down there. In fact, she’s been completely calm from the moment we left that closet. Upbeat and warm to anyone who pulled us over for conversation. I’ve known she can handle emotionless sex—that moron she works with is an unfortunate living, breathing reminder of that.

But I expected… something.

Coy stares. Rosy cheeks. Anything but the master class in nonchalance lying in that king-sized bed. I turn back to my open suitcase, studying the stack of T-shirts I brought for the weekend. I’m debating putting one on to sleep this time, because fuck knows this thing flew right off the rails down at the party. Maybe we should reel it in a little bit.

I throw another glance over my shoulder. She’s texting away, so unbothered. Not a damn care in the world and still wearing Thomas fucking Ivers’s shirt to sleep. I eye her overnight bag, sitting open next to mine.

Fuck it. I lift my entire stack of T-shirts and stuff it into her bag.

“Attwood.” Siena doesn’t even look up from her phone. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

I straighten and flutter my eyelashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Youthink you’re pretty. Let’s not pretend you don’t normally spend all night whispering sweet nothings to yourself in the mirror. I’m sorry to keep you from it two nights in a row.”

My face turns grave. “It’s so hard. Thank you for acknowledging it.”

Her eyes sparkle as she withholds a laugh. “I think this is a good time to renew our commitment to the rules.”

“Which ones?”

“The no-touching one. Considering you were just making bitter eyes at your suitcase, we were right to agree to it in the first place.”

“Except there was no touching down there. And I recall our first kiss being your doing.”

“Conversation over.” She buries her face behind her screen.

I can’t help grinning on my way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Finally ruffled her perfect feathers. Shiny feathers.

Shiny like her hair.

After a minute, Siena’s giggle filters through the open door. I stiffen, toothbrush in hand. Who’s she giggling with, and why isn’t it me?

Jesus Christ, will you please calm the fuck down?

I roll back my shoulders. Trying to shove away the memory of her soft body near-limp in my arms, so sweetly satisfied. The way she looked at me with all the trust in the world.

But that look lingers, imprinted in my mind.

It lingers because, after she let slip about her upbringing, the way she was left to fend for herself at such a young age, that trust feels like a gift.

I picture a thirteen-year-old Siena, with her shiny hair and twinkling eyes, forced to break into her neighbors’ homes just to have something to eat. My heart fucking clenches.

It’s so different from the pampered way I was raised. Two loving parents, a close relationship with my sister. Nice house, plenty of gifts at Christmas. They invested so much in my early football career, and I’d never have been able to reach the pro level without them.

Yet, there Siena is, giggling in bed. Still so full of life.

She’s… unexpected.

I finish brushing my teeth at warp speed and hover by the bathroom door, watching her text away with about a thousand questions on my tongue.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

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