Page 65 of His Heart

Sebastian

The stupidest thingI’d ever done was fall in love with Brooke Summerlin.

There was no point in denying it. In a way, I’d loved her since the first moment I saw her, sitting at that table outside a restaurant in Phoenix. It didn’t matter whether it was possible. Whether love at first sight was crazy, or unrealistic. It had happened, and I was trying to figure out how to live with it.

I’d never really loved anyone before. Not even Cami. At the time, I’d thought I was in love with her. But that hadn’t been love. It had been comfort and familiarity. Cami was the proverbial girl next door. Our relationship had been what was expected. I’d liked her, and it had hurt when she’d left me. But there hadn’t been any heat. No fire, or passion. Things hadn’t worked out between us, but someone like her was still the safe choice.

There was nothing safe about Brooke.

She was unpredictable. She might show up randomly at my house with armfuls of groceries and cook an enormous dinner. Insist we go for a drive to get out of the city, and race down the highway at a hundred miles an hour, shouting at the top of her lungs. We might stay up all night so we could sit outside and watch the sky turn pink with the sunrise, even though we both had places to be the next day. She’d sit with me for hours, talking. Telling me stories about her childhood. Listening to mine.

Or she might go dark for days on end. Not answer her phone. Miss work. Twice I’d been worried enough to go check on her. I’d found her at home, looking pale and tired. Both times, she’d chased me off, claiming to be sick. I hadn’t believed her.

She was a walking contradiction—so beautifully damaged. Fearless, without a care for her physical safety, yet weighted down by sadness and grief. Spontaneous and impulsive, but still guarded and reserved. I could see fire in her eyes, fierceness in her spirit. But more often than not, it was masked by a pain she’d never talk about with me.

From the first time we’d met, she’d lodged herself deep inside of me. One look in her eyes and I’d seen her truth. She was broken. Ready to give up. That had been me, once. And I’d known, in that moment, that I had to teach her how to live again.

But I didn’t love her because of her sadness—or in spite of it. I just loved her. She made me happy. Made me feel alive. Looking at her felt like home.

Loving Brooke was a mistake, but it wasn’t because she was unpredictable. It wasn’t because I half-expected her to disappear someday. It was because I was in love with a woman who couldn’t love me back.

I was the embodiment of everything she’d lost. The heart of her pain lived in me. Literally.

So I held back. We were friends, and I wasn’t willing to lose that, even though there were times when it killed me to be near her. I texted her. Spent time with her. Walked her home some nights after work. Checked on her when she seemed to be slipping away. But I kept distance between us so she wouldn’t know. So she wouldn’t see what she did to me. How much I wanted her.

God, I wanted her.

Charlie saw right through me, but he didn’t comment. If he ever did, I’d just remind him of his train-wreck of a relationship with Kimmie. Those two seemed to fight more than they got along. When it came to the wrong woman, both of us were doing a damn good job of fucking ourselves over, just for different reasons.

I grabbed my keys and headed to my car. Charlie was taking Kimmie to the county fair, and he’d roped me into meeting them there. Because apparently I was a glutton for punishment, I’d invited Brooke. I did not want to be the third wheel to Charlie and Kimmie. But in reality, I hadn’t needed an excuse to ask Brooke to come along. It was blindingly stupid, but I’d take any chance to be with her.

I was really fucked.

When I got to her house to pick her up, she came out looking adorable in a loose gray sweater that hung off one shoulder, the sleeves covering the bracelets she always wore. Her jean shorts were so high they showed off most of her thighs. Gray socks went over her knees and she wore a pair of tall brown boots. She was killing me with that short shorts and tall socks combination. It was sexy as fuck.

“Hey,” I said. “Ready for a good old-fashioned country fair?”

“Just tell me they have funnel cake,” she said.

“I’m pretty sure they do,” I said. “What’s with the sweater, though? It’s hot out.”

“It’s like seventy-five,” she said. “That’s not hot. Talk to me when it’s a hundred and ten. That’s hot.”

“Whatever, chilly.” She was hot, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud.

We got in my car and drove out to the fairgrounds. The parking lot wasn’t full, so I found a spot not far from the entrance. I texted Charlie to see if he and Kimmie were here. He texted back, saying they were right inside, just past the admission gate.

Kimmie was pretty in a former-Johnson-County-beauty-queen way. Long hair she kept dyed platinum blond. Stylish clothes. Never seen in public without makeup. She reminded me of Cami. Kimmie had been a sorority girl too. Charlie had met her at a party in college. She’d been a wrestling groupie, and they’d hooked up a few times. After Charlie had graduated, he’d run into her again and asked her out. Since then, they’d dated on and off—and fought a lot.

Now was no exception. Brooke and I found the two of them facing off. He stood straight with his arms folded across his big chest. She had her hands on her hips, and by her expression, she was clearly unhappy.

“Again?” Brooke asked.

“Guess so,” I said. “Should we wait for them to battle it out, or just walk by?”

“Let’s keep going,” Brooke said. “They can catch up. Or, you know, not, if Kimmie keeps being a bitch.”

I laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.”

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