The truth is, it went further than he thought. His mind was focused on the physical when my heart was detaching itself from Aaron the moment I ran into Brooks on that darkened Glasgow street.
We may not have actually kissed, but the fact that I was a breath away from begging him to was warning enough. A warning I refused to heed. I needed him to want me the way only Brooks can. Openly and absolute.
There is no maybe with Brooks Riley. Not with me. When I’m with him, his longing is palpable. I can taste it, brushing along my lips, infiltrating my mouth, and slowly sliding down my body to wrap itself around my heart.
But I should’ve known better than to accept Aaron’s forgiveness so easily. I knew the strength of his pride. In hindsight, maybe I believed him because I didn’t really care.
I’m a terrible person. Just add it to my never-ending list of flaws.
Aaron fucked a co-worker that same night in retaliation, and my life in Glasgow went from contented to nonexistent. I left the following week and let myself get lost in the world again for months before settling.
Brooks reached out—of course, he did—but I wasn’t ready to apologize, my embarrassment and self-loathing too great to ignore. By the time I’d worked up the courage to call him, he shunned me, and our friendship as I knew it was over.
Until a few weeks ago when he friended me on social media.
Settling on my bed, I refresh my Wi-Fi, waiting impatiently for it to connect. I’ve been counting down the hours until I could call him. Time dragged, and I was now overeager to talk to him, which meant I’d no doubt embarrass myself and regret this whole arrangement come morning.
We made the promise that we’d speak more often, and his voice has been the highlight of my weeks.
My laptop connects, the dial tone of Skype intrusive in the otherwise quiet room. It rings for longer than usual, my pulse quickening in panic at the thought he may not answer. But as quick as my hysteria builds, it’s extinguished just as fast. The sound of the dial tone cuts out, the grainy touch of his screen connecting.
“Hey.” He leans down, the wet droplets of his hair falling down his naked chest.
“Hey.”
“I for sure thought I was gonna miss you. I almost fell on my ass in the shower.” He smiles, and I can't help but do the same.
“Are you naked?”
He dips his screen, showing me the towel wrapped around his waist.
“Oh.”
“Do you want me to be?” he tests.
“What?” I balk, heat crawling up my neck. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I’m just fuckin’ with you, Squirrel.” He laughs, and I attempt to regulate my breathing.
Dropping to his bed, he rests his laptop on his towel-clad thighs, the wide expanse of his chest on show.
He’s filled out a lot over the past few years. The tan of his skin stretched comfortably over the easy muscle his body has built through years of trekking through terrain to find his perfect shot. Small but defined pectoral muscles move out of sight when he tips the screen to show his face, and I shouldn’t mourn the loss of the view, but I do. His nipples are dark, a modest scattering of hair resting between them. The strong line of his neck carves into his shoulders, thick veins pulsating heavily as he swallows.
“What time is it there?”
“Midnight.” I stifle a yawn.
“Henley, we could’ve spoken in the morning.”
“I’m not tired,” I lie. “Plus, I wanted to talk to you.” The words whispered in a way I didn’t mean for them to be.
“Everything okay?”
I nod.
“Sure?”
“Promise.”
He raises a thick eyebrow. “What have I told you about promises?”
I roll my eyes, unable to hide the smile that grows on my face.
He’s making me giddy, and I equal parts love and hate the schoolgirl crush I develop the moment I see or speak to him.
We’ve been speaking every few days. It was like the breaking of a dam wall. Nothing stood between us anymore. Aside from the crippling distance, of course. It’s like it has always felt between us. Easy, real. And I can’t get enough. I’d speak to him every day if I wouldn’t come across like a psychotic stalker, and we could manage our schedules better.
“Arrive in the Whitsundays?”
I nod. “Yeah, yesterday. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re sunburned,” he comments.
I touch my cheeks. “I spent the day swimming at a place called Whitehaven Beach. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen. The sand is basically white, and the water is crystal-clear.”
“The rest of you doesn’t look burned, just your face.”
I glance down at my shoulders. “I had to wear a full swimsuit, one that covered my arms and legs… my whole body.”
His head tilts to the side, his lips pursing in question.
“They have jellyfish that can kill you.” I laugh.
“What the fuck?” He snorts. “Why are you laughing about that?”
“They’re called Irukandji. Hectic, hey?”
“Appreciate you never swimming there ever again.”
I grin. “Worried about me?”
“Always, Henley.”
His voice drops lower than I’m used to. The meaning in his words deeper than I expected.
Silence falls between us, our eyes refusing to blink as too much and not enough passes between us in a silent conversation we’re nowhere near ready to decipher.
“I miss you,” I whisper. The heaviness in my words weighs just as burdensome in my heart.
His eyes close. “You seem so close, yet it kills me that you’re so far away.”
I long to reach out and touch him. To touch his cheek and feel the strong line of his jaw. I settle for the screen, tracing a single finger across the picture of his face, trailing off when I reach his chin.
“Probably for the best,” he murmurs. “I’d try to kiss you with you looking at me like that.”
My stomach knots. I don’t blink, afraid I’ll lose the promise in his eyes if I were to do so.
“I’d let you,” I admit.
His nostrils flare. “Henley.”
“Where are you?”
“The Philippines.”
“Only a day,” I
