Room for You (18 page)

“Can I show you the rest of my condo?” Chills blanketed my body as his lips grazed my ear. “My bedroom is just past that door.”

All at once, my senses came flooding back to me. “Wait, no … slow. Remember?”

His head dropped to my shoulder as he sighed. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.” He sat up and grinned at me, holding his hands out. “Come on, I’ll actually give you the grand tour, slowly.”

I took his hands, stood up and adjusted my top. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“At you? Never.” He kissed my hand again and led me down the hall.

Brody’s bedroom was simple, sparse even. A king-sized bed, topped with chocolate brown and tan plaid bedding, was against the wall to the left, each side anchored with chunky black nightstands. A black leather chair sat in the far right corner next to a bookshelf that I was immediately drawn to. I walked over, eager to see what types of books would grab Brody’s attention.

“Don’t waste your time, nothing but magazines.” He sounded embarrassed. “Mostly Sports Illustrated.”

I turned and smiled at him. “Nothing wrong with that.” Half a dozen pictures hung on the wall on the other side of the chair. A middle-aged woman with Brody’s features was in most of them. “Is this your mom?”

He walked up behind me and curled his arms around my waist. “Yep, beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Very.” My fingers traced each frame as I looked at her closely. The resemblance was astonishing, from their same dark brown curls to their award-winning smiles. She was an older, softer version of her handsome son. “You have her eyes—beautiful and sincere, very expressive. You have the ability to tell a whole story with just one look. You know that?”

He hugged me tighter, resting his head on my shoulder while I continued studying the woman responsible for his existence.

My heart sank when I came to a picture of her sitting in a big chair, curled up under a blanket. She had a pink bandanna wrapped around her head and was very thin, her face drained of all its color. Despite all that, her beautiful, contagious smile spread wide across her face as she gave the camera two thumbs up.

“What about this one?” I asked cautiously.

“I took that,” he said proudly. “That was about three years ago, the morning of her last chemo treatment. She was diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer, but she beat it. I keep that picture up there to remind me how far she’s come. I’m so proud of her.”

“You guys are really close, huh?”

He sighed, his breath warming my neck. “What can I say? I’m a mama’s boy.”

“Hope she doesn’t mind sharing.” I turned to the right and kissed his cheek. The instant my lips left his face, he grabbed my hips and spun me around to face him.

“I’m about to throw you on the bed and have my way with you. Can we please stop talking about my mom?”

“Ready to go?” Kacie called from the living room.

“Almost,” I hollered back. “You can come in. I’m just changing my shirt.”

My bedroom door creaked as she opened it, peeking around the corner. “You sure?”

I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she walked over to the leather chair, her wavy, auburn hair flowing around her bare shoulders as she went. She had on jean shorts that were long enough for public, but short enough to drive me bat shit crazy all afternoon, a hot pink tank top that showcased every single curve perfectly and black flip flops. Never in my life had I known little pink toes could be hot until right then. She curled up in the chair and grinned at me, crinkling her nose. Her pink lips were still swollen from the twenty minutes we had just spent rolling around on my bed before she halted things … again.

I meant what I said when I told her I was in no hurry to rush things along. I wanted to be inside her as bad as I wanted a Stanley Cup ring, but I could be patient.

I’d also be spending a lot of time in the shower, a cold shower.

I walked out of my closet with a navy blue and green striped polo and tossed it on the bed, watching Kacie watch me. Her all-consuming stare was a form of torturous foreplay, something that should be used on prisoners. When I locked eyes with her, it was just that, a lock. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to look away. I wanted to walk over, scoop her up and lie her back down on my bed, after I texted Andy to tell him he could take his dinner party and shove it up Blaire’s ass. I would much rather spend the evening tangled up in bed with Kacie.

I pulled my t-shirt over my head and she gasped. “You have a
tattoo
?”

I laughed. “Yep. It’s the Murphy family crest … got it on my 18th birthday. My dad has the exact same one.”

“It’s huge!” She hopped up and came over to me for a closer look. She ran her hands softly over the skin in between my shoulder blades where my tattoo started and traced the outline all the way down my back. “Wow. This is amazing,” she said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer and I turned to face her. The shimmer in her green eyes had been replaced with sadness and she was staring at the ground.

“Kacie, what is it?” I asked, cupping her face in my hands.

“Nothing.” She sighed, looking up at me. “I just feel like an ass.”

“Why?”

“When you left the inn that morning and I found your jersey on the fireplace, I jumped to conclusions.” Her shoulders drooped as she continued, “I assumed that since you were this single, big shot athlete, you must have been a selfish playboy who didn’t give a crap about family, or anyone for that matter. After hearing you gush about your mom, then seeing all your family pictures, and now this … I was wrong, Brody. I’m so sorry.” She looked back down at the ground and let out another sigh.

“Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know anything about me.” I tilted her head up so she was looking at me again. “It probably just looked like I was some dude trying to get in your pants, and that part I can’t completely deny.” A tiny smile crossed her lips, but I wasn’t convinced. “It’s really okay. Come here.” I pulled her in close and wrapped my arms around her, holding her head tight against my bare chest.

“Hey, we have a couple hours until we need to get ready for this dinner tonight, wanna grab some coffee? I’ll show you around?”

Kacie smiled up at me. “Fantastic. You should probably put a shirt on first though, huh?”

“Or you could take yours off so that we’re even?”

She rolled her eyes and left my room with a grin on her face.

The weather was perfect. Kacie’s hand was in mine, and we were strolling around my neighborhood. I showed her The Bumper and my favorite Polish deli that makes the most amazing pierogi casserole. It took us less than ten minutes to get to the coffee shop I went to almost every single day.

Scooter Joe’s Cafe.

“Cute name,” Kacie said as we walked up.

“Wait until you meet Joe.” I winked. “I think you’ll like him, but be careful, he has wandering hands.”

She narrowed her eyes, thoroughly confused as Joe walked up behind her and put his arm around her waist. “Brody, who’s your little friend?”

Joe was harmless, a little old man who refused to slow down after he retired from the plumber’s union, instead dumping all of his savings into this place. It was always packed too, not a bad investment.

Kacie’s posture stiffened as she looked from Joe to me with wide eyes. I chuckled and held my hand up toward Kacie. “Joe, this is my girlfriend, Kacie.”

“Hi Kacie,” Joe said, pulling her in tighter. “Nice to meet ya.”

Kacie slipped out of his grip and spun around, holding her hand out. “Nice to meet you too, Joe.”

“We’re gonna sit in my usual spot, okay?” I said.

“Sounds good, boss. I’ll bring you a couple of menus.” He grinned at Kacie and hurried behind the counter.

“I usually sit at the bistro table outside, that work for you?”

Kacie tried to hide her grin. “Sounds good.”

“What’s that smirk about?” I asked as we walked to the patio.

“Nothing,” she said with a small giggle.

“Liar.”

“I just thought it was cute that you knew what a bistro table was.”

“You can thank my mom for that. I brought her here once when she came to stay with me.” I pulled out her chair and had to fight the urge to stick my nose in her hair as her scent washed over me. “I called it a two-seater. She corrected me.”

Kacie scooted her chair a little closer to mine. “I love hearing you talk about your mom.”

“She’s wonderful—a lot like your mom, actually.”

“What about your dad?” she asked as Joe brought our menus over.

“We’re close, just not as close as my mom. My dad worked a lot of overtime when I was a kid to pay for all my hockey camps and leagues, so I spent most of my time with my mom.”

She leaned in close, resting her chin on her hand.

“When I got my signing bonus, the very first thing I did was drive straight to their house, pay it off and force my dad to retire. Then a couple years later, I built their dream house out in the country.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

“Yeah, I’ve been very lucky. What about your dad?” I asked cautiously. “I’ve never heard you really talk about him.”

She picked up the menu and shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing really to tell. He and my mom were married for like fifteen years, then one day he decided to leave. No warning; that was it.”

“Interesting … did he say why?”

“Apparently he’d been seeing someone, got her pregnant and wanted to be with her instead. I haven’t talked to him since that day.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said sincerely.

“I’m not.” She forced an uncomfortable smile and looked around. “Where is our waitress? I want a scone.”

A scone or a distraction?

Being with Brody was relaxing, natural. When he looked at me with his piercing gaze my stomach fluttered like a teenager in a brand new relationship, yet we could sit comfortably like an old married couple and hold hands, chatting for hours about nothing at all. We spent the day walking around the city, and way in the back of my mind, I wished it were my everyday life. I could picture us getting up on a Sunday morning and strolling to that little coffee shop, contemplating which movie we wanted to see later, while the girls ate cinnamon scones and danced to the trumpet player on the corner.

I forced that daydream out of my head because that’s exactly what it was … a dream.

This …
thing
, whatever it was, had no chance of going anywhere special; we were too different.

My relationship with Brody had an expiration date, and I was doing my best not to look at the calendar and just live in the moment.

Right now though, I was supposed to be showering and getting ready for this dinner tonight. I opened the bedroom door and hollered out to him, “Hey, do you by any chance have any extra shampoo and conditioner? I forgot to bring mine.”

“In the linen closet in the bathroom.”

“Thanks!”

“No problem, babe,” he called back nonchalantly like it was just any other Saturday, but those three tiny words sent my heart into a tizzy.

Leaving the bedroom door slightly ajar, I walked into the guest bathroom and slid the linen closet door open and laughed out loud. On the shelf there must have been thirty different shampoos and conditioners—fruity ones, flowery ones, extra-strengthening ones—made by every imaginable salon company. Still snickering, I called out the door again, “Did you rob a beauty supply store or what?”

He chuckled in the living room before yelling back. “No, I had no idea what you used, so I bought every one they had.”

My mouth hung open, shock coursed through my veins as I stared incredulously at the shelf. It was such an innocent, silly gesture on his part, but it meant more to me than he could possibly comprehend.

Freak out about shampoo later, Kacie. Pull yourself together and get your ass in the shower.

Tonight I was meeting several new people; most of whom would know me as nothing more than ‘Brody’s date’, so it was imperative that I didn’t embarrass him or make him look bad. More importantly, one of those people was his best friend since childhood, and his wife, who according to Brody, made a piranha look like a teddy bear. My stress level was at an all-time high; I desperately wanted everything to go perfectly. I wanted them to like me.