Page 17 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
“Tell me this guy isn’t another Garrett Butler.” My frustration rises from his comment, which he must pick up on because he turns his focus back to the broom. “Not my place. Got it. As long as you think he’s a good guy, you can date whoever you want. I’m assuming you want to date him, not just win him over?”
Why else would I want him to fall in love with me? “But I’m out of practice,” I mutter, not sure I like admitting as much to someone like him. “It’s been a while.”
Jordan shakes his head. “Sometimes I can’t fathom how you and your brother came out so different.”
“You can say that again.”
As much as I love Houston, he has always had a bad habit of dating anything that moves, and I genuinely don’t remember the last time he didn’t have a girlfriend hanging on his arm. Except for now, of course.
“Speaking of…” Jordan grabs his phone, typing for a second until I hear the sounds of a baseball game.
I lean a little closer, though it’s not like I can see anything from my new permanent spot on the couch. “Is the game still happening?” I must have really hit my head because I totally forgot he was about to start his game when I called him earlier. I could put it on, but I never understand the rules when I try to watch so I always end up frustrated.
Jordan shrugs. “Yeah. It’s almost over, though. Red-tails are winning—no surprise there.”
If I remember right, the World Series is seven games, and this is only the third, which means the next week is going to have me feeling sympathetic stress for my brother. I don’t know why, but I’ve been more and more nervous every time he plays, like I know there’s something wrong but I don’t know what it is.
“Would you tell me if you knew something about Houston that I didn’t?” I ask, wincing as soon as those words are out of my mouth. Did I really just ask my brother’s best friend to spy on him? He’s been acting strange the last little bit, though, and if anyone would know why, Jordan would.
Jordan locks his phone before he meets my gaze, dark eyes fixed on mine as he studies me. He’s been doing that a lot since this morning, which isn’t exactly out of the norm for him, but it’s out of the norm for me. No matter what Jay says about me being irresistible, it’s been a long time since I really let myself be seen. It’s not exactly easy to be open and vulnerable when the last guy you dated somehow managed to ruin both your career and your confidence.
“I guess it depends,” Jordan says, pulling his eyebrows together. “There are things Houston has made me promise to keep to myself, and I don’t plan on breaking that trust.”
“Even if it would help him?”
His smile returns in a slow stretch of happiness. I wish I could see life through his eyes so I could know how he smiles so easily. “Now I’m starting to wonder if there’s something you know that I don’t.”
“No.” I sigh. “I guess I just feel like I haven’t been around my brother much lately, and I miss him. I was curious if you get his attention more than I do.”
“Only because I demand his attention whenever I get the chance. Especially lately.” His expression has changed again, and whatever he sees in my face seems to confuse him. Or worry him? I wish I was better at reading people, like he is. “Do you wish he was around more?”
“No. I mean, yeah, of course I do, but I know he loves baseball too much to give that up until he has to.” I could never ask my brother to make more time for me when he’s worked so hard to get to where he is, even if I would love to see him more than once or twice a month when his team is at home.
He’s always been my best friend, but being adults makes that friendship difficult. Who’d have thought adulthood would be this lonely?
“I’m just going to have to be patient and be on my own until his season is over,” I say, hoping it doesn’t make me sound too pathetic.
Jordan hums, as if thinking about something as he looks down at his phone once more. He laughs at whatever he reads, and then he gives me a grin that makes me nervous. He pulls the dustpan off the broom and starts scooping up the honestly horrifying amount of dirt that he’s collected over the last few minutes. “Unless you get yourself a man in the meantime,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to say over household chores. “What’s this coworker like? The one you’re trying to seduce with math?”
Okay, well, when he puts it like that, it sounds pretty stupid. “One,” I say, holding up a finger, “I’m not trying toseducehim. I’m not you.” He scrunches up his face as he dumps the dust in the trash, but I ignore whatever that is supposed to mean. “And two, I’m obviously going to do more than talk about math.”
“Like what?”
I can hear the challenge in his voice, and I hate that he knows how to push my buttons so well. Rising to the challenge is a little too tempting, but I’m not going to play his game. “I don’t have to tell you,” I say.
“Meaning you don’t have even a little bit of a plan,” he guesses, rolling his eyes. He comes back over to the couch and plops down next to me. “Brooklyn Briggs, the woman whoalwayshas a plan, is going to take a years-long crush and turn it into a relationship by winging it?”
Oh goodness, that sounds like a nightmare. Now I understand why Jay was so interested in me telling her my plan. “Okay, well, I have all weekend to think of something.” It’ll have to be when I’m not still mildly hungover from my migraine. And who knows how much I’ll be able to concentrate when I’ve got Jordan “God’s Gift to Women” Torres chilling on my couch and looking at me with that signature look that, back in the day, generally signaled something about to go wrong for me.
I might not have a plan, but I’m starting to thinkhedoes. And that’s dangerous.
“You could ask for my help, you know,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. How does he even do that?
I scoff. “I definitely don’t need your help.”
“Pretty sure you do.”
“If anyone is going to help me, it’s Micah. She goes on dates, like, every night.”
