Page 12 of Indescribable

“Of course.”

“I mean it, Naomi. Or if you need help with something, you don’t have to try to do it alone just to prove to yourself or anyone else that you can. You realize how often Cor calls me because she needs a lightbulb changed?”

“Electricity scares me,” she says, defending herself.

Brock and I both give her a look but it’s Brock who speaks up, “You do realize we’ve made a living off of electricity, right?”

She shrugs, unbothered. “It’s not likeI’mthe one messing with wires and shit. I’m in the office, safely away from anything that can electrocute me.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re something else.” He turns back to me. “Promise me you’ll call.”

“I promise,” I lie.

Which he sees right through. “Liar.”

I shrug.

He sighs, annoyed with me, I’m sure. But what does he expect? I’ve never been one to ask for help quickly. Unless a snake somehow slithers into my house, I think I’ll be able to handle whatever gets thrown my way.

“All right, we’ll leave you to your naked night, then.”

“Much appreciated. Would also appreciate if we never spoke of this again and maybe you can also just magically forget everything you saw.”

I watch transfixed as his eyes do something I’ve never seen them do before. The beautiful brown almost gets swallowed up by his pupils dilating and I swear they’re heated. The look he’s giving me is so… well, I have to swallow hard and I know my face is becoming flush.

When Brock leans even closer, slides a hand over my hip, and whispers in my ear, “Not a chance of me forgetting that, sweetheart. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life,” I almost come out of my skin.

The breath I let out is shaky and now I’m absolutely certain that my cheeks are red. Holy smokes.

Then he kisses me on the forehead and that about does me in. It’s too much.

The three of us say goodbye but for some reason I suddenly don’t want Brock to leave. I no longer care about my quiet night alone and would rather spend it catching up with my friend who I’ve missed more than I realized.

Against the closed door, I lean my back against it and slide down to the floor realizing something else.

I’m turned on.

I haven’t been turned on by a man in so long I almost forgot what it feels like.

Brock’s proximity and whispered words against my ear and the way he smelled so familiar but still something new – like spice and fresh air and masculinity – it’s almost too much for me to handle.

It’s the stuff I write books about.

The woman who’s newly single lusting after her best friend while the ink is still wet on her divorce papers. She feels guilty for those feelings because they’re too soon and makes her feel like maybe her ex-husband had a point all along. But not because the guy in the scenario had feelings, but maybe she had feelings she never put a name to. In an effort to relieve that guilt, she squashes them, but is unsuccessful because she can’t stop her heart and body from wanting someone.

“Oh, no,” I groan.

I was married to a man I loved for most of my adult life. How can I even bethinkingthoughts of another man already? Especially a man I have zero business thinking those kinds of thoughts about. The love I felt for Wyatt has been gone for long while. Despite that, though, it’s too soon.

On completely unsteady legs, I make my way back to the couch and resume watchingOrange Is the New Black. But even the drama happening on the television isn’t enough to keep my mind from straying to thoughts of Brock.

“Oh, no,” I repeat, this time my groan is louder.

This isn’t good.

I’m a cautionary tale.

I have to get a handle on this. My heart is finally put back together after feeling like it was ripped to shreds for the past few years.

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