Page 48 of Shutout
“Blond,” I start.
“Bimbo,” he finishes. “Sadly, I’m a walking stereotype.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s sad,” I volley while chewing, because there’s no point in pretending to have manners in front of two people who have seen me at my worst in different occasions. “It’s quite funny, actually. I once watched him walk into a closed crystal door.”
Mina cocks an eyebrow at me and I can read her mind. She’s wondering how I could still fall for a guy like that. But it’s because she doesn’t know him yet.
“So not funny.” He frowns, even though his eyes twinkle. “It gives me a headache just to remember.”
“What were you even thinking about that had you so distracted?” I ask, pouring myself a glass of water.
“Back then?” Brooke’s forehead scrunches up as he harkens back to that time when he almost shattered the glass door to the high school library. “I think college admissions? It was around the time I didn’t know where I was going yet.”
Ah, yes. Back when we were both freaking out at thepossibility that we’d have to go our separate ways. We ended up going to the same college and growing apart anyway. Life’s funny like that.
Maybe he’s thinking the same thing, because he’s suddenly grown quiet.
“So, Brooklyn.” Something in Mina’s voice gives me pause. “I’m a little aware of the history between you and my best friend Liv, who I have never put through any suffering in my entire life?—”
Uh oh. Should I stop this?
Yes, I think so.
“Oh, that’s right. I made a bunch of salad that would go nicely with the pizza. Anyone want some?”
Brooke looks at me, eagerly. “Yes, please. I’m intrigued by the flava beans.”
“Fava beans, you dork.”
“Those.”
Mina takes a deep breath and asks, “So, what are your intentions with her? Are you planning on hurting her again?”
My jaw drops and I freeze, locked between sitting and standing. Which makes me collapse on the couch.
Brooke’s eyebrows pop off. He slowly turns to Mina. “Uh, what?”
“You heard me.” She folds her arms and glares at him with all her might. It’s strong enough to make him swallow hard. “Because in my opinion, a little party here and a little pizza there aren’t enough to make amends.”
Brooke blinks hard—at me. “I thought I’d only get this kind of speech from your brother.”
“Might as well practice now,” I mumble, picking myself back up to head over to the fridge.
“My intentions?” he muses aloud while I grab the salad container along with some serving cups and utensils. When I return, he’s got one arm across his chest, hand hooked on hisother arm that is raised as he rubs his chin. The raspy sound hits me as I sit back down next to him. “My intentions,” he repeats, facing Mina head on, “are to reclaim my rightful position as Aceituna’s best friend.”
Mina looks positively murderous. “Those are fighting words, blimbo. Especially from someone who hurt her so much.”
“Salad?” I ask, popping open the container.
Brooke grabs a serving plate. “Yes, please.”
As I pass him the container and serving spoon, I give Mina what I hope is a discreet glare.
So this was the angle? Not some awkward attempt at matchmaking, but a declaration of war? I don’t know if I should be relieved or annoyed, because this must mean she doesn’t approve of Brooke and I as a couple. Or maybe she just thinks I stand no chance with him.
“Salad?” He offers her the container, and she reluctantly takes it from him. As he leans back against the couch, Brooke places a forearm on his raised knee and says, “And for what it’s worth, I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing for being a jerk to Liv if that’s what it takes.”
Mina pauses to reassess him. That’s the thing with Brooklyn. He always has his head in the clouds but occasionally he’ll deliver a biting zinger that cuts through people’s defenses. And this is one such case, because with that he rendered Mina’s argument moot, and her speechless.
