Page 50 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
“The one who likes dinosaurs?”
It’s a joke—I know he has four kids—but Rick chuckles and nods. “Yeah. Up you go.” He grabs my wrist and helps me up, which I appreciate after that body slam. “Face it, kid. You’re falling for Brooklyn Briggs, and you can’t spend your whole life standing in the middle. You either have to go back the way you came, or you’re going to have to cross to the other side and hope the grass is greener.”
I rub my shoulder, which took the brunt of my fall, and shake my head at Rick. “Come up with that metaphor on your own, did you?”
He grins. “I thought it sounded pretty good. Plus her name is—”
“Brooklyn Briggs, I know.” I also know she hates getting called Brooklyn Bridge more than she hates me calling her Queens, and she literally punched a guy after school when he took the taunting too far.
That’s the woman I’m trying to bring back, but I know it won’t be easy. Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs to a relationship isn’t as simple as walking across an actual bridge. There are too many places to misstep. Too many loose boards and broken ropes. No one has bothered to care for her the way they should, and her boyfriends’ negligence (and in some cases deliberate damage) has left its mark.
“So…” I wrinkle my nose as I examine his metaphor a little more closely. “You’re saying I either need to go all in with Brooklyn or walk away?” I don’t like either of those options, though one certainly sounds more appealing. I’m already missing her, which is ridiculous because I only left her house a few hours ago after spending three straight days with her. But I know pursuing anything romantic is a bad idea—at least until I can talk to Houston, and he won’t be back in Sun City until the end of the week. Later, if they have to play a seventh game.
Let’s hope Houston can keep his win streak going tonight.
Rick picks up the trimmer—apparently he doesn’t trust me with the dinosaur right now—and gives me a grin. “I’m saying you might not have a choice. The heart wants what the heart wants, Torres. You can either fight it or embrace it, but I know which one will make you happy. Go clean some flamingos before the boys beat you to it, eh?”
As I head to the truck to grab the power washer, I think about what he said. I trust Rick enough to know that he wouldn’t give me stupid advice, and when it comes to love, he knows what he’s talking about. But what happens if I listen to him? What if I give into this attraction to Brooklyn and things go wrong?
My chest aches thinking about a life without Houston’s friendship. It’s not a new hurt, but the familiar fear isn’t the only one sitting heavy in my soul. There’s worry for my mom and the responsibility over my family that will come if she doesn’t beat this cancer. There’s concern over my brothers—Alejandro while he’s in the Marines and who knows what’s going on with Mateo. But there’s a new fear working its way into my heart, and that’s living without Brooklyn Briggs.
Rick is right. I’m in trouble.
Chapter Sixteen
Brooklyn
I shouldn’t be relieved thatMark took a day off, but I’ve been breathing easier all day, since the moment I saw the sub setting up at his desk. I know Jordan won’t be happy, but this gives me one more day to build up my courage. One more day to practice being brave. Honestly, I could use a whole week, but that wouldn’t make a difference. Plus, a week with Jordan teasing and challenging me sounds like the worst kind of torture.
Now, though, that torture feels different. It’s no longer frustration and annoyance I feel toward that man but something else. Something new. Something that pushed me to practically beg him to come back to my house tonight because I’m afraid to go back to the silence and loneliness that I’ve gotten used to over the last few years.
“Girl, learn how to answer your phone.”
I glance up as Jaydin waltzes into my office and throws herself into the other chair with all the drama of a teenager. I didn’t jump at the sound of her voice, which should worry me. Just how long have I been sitting here thinking about Jordan? “I don’t know where my phone is,” I admit with a grimace. After I sent the wrong emoji to Jordan, I hid the phone as if that might hide my embarrassment, and now I can’t find it.
Sighing, Jay grabs her own phone and dials my number, sitting in silence until my ringtone blasts from the garbage can. She winces. “Why is your ringtone ‘Hot in Herre’?”
I wondered why that song kept playing…
I scramble to grab my phone and deny the call before it keeps blaring at us. “Because every time I try to change it, it somehow becomes something worse than before.”
Jay rolls her eyes. “Then just put it on vibrate.” I hold it out to her, knowing whatever I try will end in disaster. “You’re hopeless, Brook, you know that?”
“I know.”
“So, are you going to tell me about this hunk of a landscaper, or what?” She flips my phone around to show me the picture I took of Jordan yesterday, as if I haven’t snuck a peek multiple times throughout the day. “Don’t try to tell me this is just a random guy and there’s nothing going on between you two, because you just turned redder than a cherry tomato.”
I press my palms to my cheeks, trying to cool them. “I don’t know what’s going on.” Which is true. “But nothing is going to come of it.”
“Why not?” She pinches the picture to zoom in, probably on his abs. “I’d be hitting this so hard.”
“Don’t be gross.”
“I’m just saying, he’s way hotter than Mark, whoever he is.”
“He’s Houston’s best friend.” I slide my fingers up to cover my whole face, as if that might make this less awkward to talk about. “I’ve known him for years, and I’m not going there. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
