Page 18 of Stevie
“Why don’t you come down here, and I’ll show you ‘winded’!” He calls back, causing Janie to squeal and squirm happily in her chair.
“Yay! I’m soooo getting fucked when all of you leave.” She claps, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m about to go get the hose for both of you.” I look at my phone and see massive amounts of notifications still pouring in.
“Want me to stop that shit from showing up?” Janie asks, and I shake my head.
“No, I deserve it. Good or bad, I put that out there, and I have to accept others’ opinions.”
“Opinions?” Indy scoffs while sipping her drink. “Stevie, those aren’t opinions. They’re threats!”
I let out a sigh while resting my head back. “I’m aware, but there are good people in the mix. Scared people like I was. People who have gone through what I did are thanking me for speaking out. I can’t disappear on them.”
“Babe, I love you, but I will chain you to a bed and leave you there to protect you from those fuckers.”
“Oh, promise?” I give her a playful shimmy as we share a laugh. Looking at my phone again, I see Mama sent a text to let me know she’s here to pick me up.
“Alright, I got to go. Mama’s here, and I gotta swing by Nuts before heading back to Brooks’.” I kiss them both quickly before waving to the guys and heading to the driveway.
* * *
“Brooks?” I call out while opening the front door and trying to balance the box of pastries in my hand that Baka insisted I bring to‘feed my bear.’
“Well, hey there, beautiful,” I scream as a male voice hits my ears. I see a large, very tattooed man dressed in an all-black suit walk towards me with a smile on his face. Who the fuck is he? Oh god, did the people online track me here, too?
“G-get back!” I yell, dropping the box as I stumble and fall back out the front door. A pair of strong arms grab me to keep me from falling. I know the smell. It’s fresh and masculine, with hints of citrus and cedar wood from his soap.
“What is going on?” Brooks pants as he wraps his arms around me protectively while pulling me into his chest. I let out a small whimper as I bury deeper into his embrace, but freeze when the man speaks again. I think his accent is Boston, maybe?
“Sorry fucker, I think I startled your girl there.” He chuckles nervously, and I turn my head to look at him. He is rubbing the back of his head and giving me a sheepish smile.
“Sorry, beautiful. I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack. I was helping Brooks get some stuff in. I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Greyson.” He sticks his tattooed hand out, and I stare at it warily before loosening my death grip on Brooks’ shirt.
“Stevie.” He gives me a smile before picking up my box.
“Well, Stevie, I will be on my way. Now that I’ve scared you, I can see that I’m on this asshole’s shit list, so I better fuck off before he decides to beat my ass.”
“Fuck off quickly,” Brooks states through gritted teeth. Greyson gives a two-finger salute before walking around us and heading down the sidewalk. Brooks, arms still wrapped around my waist, looks down at me. “Are you alright?” He asks softly, and I can’t help but smile softly.
“Y-yeah, now that my heart is slowing down.” That’s a lie; it’s still pounding, but I know it’s not from the scare. It’s from Brooks’ massive body wrapping around me so protectively and how his deep green eyes look into mine. I watch his eyes flicker to my lips. “You hungry?” I ask, pushing away from him.
“Um, yeah, I guess.” I see his hands flexing, and I wonder if he’s feeling the same empty coldness I am now that we are separated. That’s new. Initially, I was happy to see him go after sex or whatever. But now…
Eyeing him, I instantly go pink when I realize he’s doing the same. “Well, good.” I laugh nervously, breaking the stare. “Because Baka sent me here with about ten pounds of pastries to feed you.” I walk into his clean, modern home and head to his kitchen. Brooks’ home is an open-concept single-level house, all rooms connecting seamlessly. Wide-plank oak floors, bathed in natural light, resonate with the neutral color palette of muted grays, soft whites, and subtle earthy tones. The focal point of the living area is the breathtaking floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking his own personal oasis.
His backyard is breathtaking, though in all honesty, it’s not what I expected from him. Towering palm trees sway gently in the breeze, casting shadows on the vibrant exotic plants that cover the landscape. A symphony of tropical plants envelops the outdoor space, creating a vibrant and captivating mix of colors, textures, and scents. I couldn’t tell you what most of them are; my thumb isn’t exactly green, and I could kill a cactus, but it’s all so beautiful. At the heart of his haven, Brooks has a pond lined with smooth stones and adorned with water lilies. I haven’t been out there yet, but I want to know if fish are in the pond. It’s my favorite part of his backyard, mainly because it has a waterfall. Yes, a fucking waterfall.
Inside, every piece of furniture in this living room, and the rest of the house, for that matter, is expertly chosen for comfort and style. Plush sofas and accent chairs with captivating geometric patterns add a nice touch—low-profile coffee tables and minimalist shelving showcase carefully curated art pieces and keepsakes.
The kitchen would make Baka and Mama weep. It is complete with cutting-edge stainless-steel appliances, polished quartz countertops, and pendant lights with matte black accents that emit a warm glow. The massive walk-in pantry is a baker’s wet dream.
However, it wouldn’t truly be Brooks’ house without the technology that’s integrated throughout the entire property. He has a centralized home automation system that manages the lighting, climate, security, and television. All the windows and doors have security contacts, and there are cameras on the inside and outside of the house that alerts if movement is detected. It was something I once found to be “too much” when I would sneak over here occasionally. But now, I am thankful for all the security measures being taken.
“Alright, I have to ask,” I say, breaking the silence. “Why is everything so…” I wave my hand around, gesturing to his house.
Smirking, Brooks leans against the counter while crossing his arms over his chest. It’s unfair how such a casual move can turn me on so fucking quick. “So what?” He asks, amusement lacing his words.
“So open and low,” I state, looking at where the countertops hit him. Brooks is way too tall for these counters. Hell, I’m nearly too tall. “I mean, it’s all just wide and short.” The cocky amused look leaves his face, being replaced with one of a soft, almost sadness.
