Date: 2016-06-28 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; New Adult; Contemporary Romance; Contemporary
Description: Brooks Benson is bored, stuck and miserable. When both his parents were unable to continue running the variety store, he dropped out of college and came back home to help. It’s been almost two years and he’s tired of making pizzas and selling scratch tickets to the locals of Hope Harbor, Maine. But as the second oldest Benson brother, he’s the one that stepped up. Now all he can see is a gray future in front of him. Remington “Remi” Wright is disappointed, frustrated and out of options. After dropping out of college and trying to make a go of it in New York, she’s forced to come back home to l

Brooks

Benson Brothers, Volume 1

Chelsea M. Cameron

Published by Chelsea M. Cameron, 2016.

Table of Contents

Title Page

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Epilogue

About the author:

Other books by Chelsea M. Cameron:

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One

Brooks

“Fucking Christ,” I muttered under my breath as pizza sauce slopped onto the floor. I stared at it for a second. On the concrete, it almost looked like a Pollock if you squinted your eyes just right.

Shaking my head, I grabbed the mop and used it to get up the worst of the sauce. The screen door of Benson’s Variety slammed as someone walked in.

“I’ll be right with you,” I said, leaning the mop against the wall and wiping my hands on my once-white apron that was now covered in myriad stains.

I walked out from the kitchen to the front of the store. Surveying my kingdom. Or at least part of my inheritance.

“Hey, Jimmy,” I said, giving a nod to the grizzled old guy heading for the beer cooler. He looked like he’d been carved from wood and left out in the elements for decades. For all intents and purposes, he had, since he’d been a lobsterman for as long as anyone could remember. He could be sixty or he could be a hundred. Nobody knew.

Jimmy grabbed a six-pack of Bud and slammed it down on the counter so the bottles rattled against each other.

“And a few of those,” he grunted, pointing at the one dollar scratch tickets. He got the same thing every time he came in, so I ripped off three tickets and took the grungy bills he pulled from his pocket. They smelled like motor oil. Same routine as last Friday and the Friday before that.

Jimmy was followed by a steady stream of beer-buyers and people calling for pizzas. I was on my own, but I could handle it. I’d been doing this since my father had his heart attack and my mom broke her back almost a year ago. The Benson family had been dealt a shitty hand that winter and I’d dropped out of my master’s program to come home and run the store.

I was really the only choice since my oldest brother, Avery, was busy clawing his way up the corporate ladder at the largest bank in town. My other brothers and sister helped out when they could, but the majority of the work fell on my shoulders.

The second Benson brother. The steady one. The reliable one. The one who was going to carry on the family business.

So here I was, slinging pizza dough, selling scratch tickets and making sure that the small television we had was tuned to ESPN so the customers didn’t miss a second of sports coverage.

I didn’t hate it. No, I definitely didn’t hate it, I told myself as I mopped the floors (again), turned on the security system, and locked the doors.

I didn’t hate it. This was everything my family owned. My parents had worked their whole lives for this building and the two gas pumps outside.

I got in my truck and started the engine. I’d moved back in with Mom and Dad to help out with everything, but tonight I wasn’t ready to walk back into the chaos of the Benson house just yet. I decided to take one of the side roads and drive down the coast, to a little bit of land that only the locals in Hope Harbor, Maine knew about.

****

An hour later, I walked into mayhem, but I didn’t expect anything less. If the house had been quiet, something would be terribly wrong.

“I said no!” my mom yelled at my youngest brother, Greyson. He was sixteen and had decided now was a good time to push boundaries with our parents.

“What now?” I asked, walking into the living room and dropping onto the couch. Dad had ESPN Classic on and was reading a book about the Civil War. He always did more than one thing at once. Putting a finger to mark his page, he looked up at me, squinting through his glasses.

“Grey has gotten it into his head that we would somehow support him going up to Craig Lee’s cabin for a weekend of debauchery.” I snorted. Craig was the little brother of Greg (were their parents high?), who I’d gone high school with. Pretty sure the guy didn’t spend one day sober the entire four years. Craig was following in his illustrious footsteps and already had one DUI under his belt.

“I’m not going to do anything, don’t you trust me?” Greyson yelled. Dad and I just gave each other a look.

“I’m letting your mother handle it.” I was about to ask him how his day was when my sister, Falyn slammed through the front door.

“Can I borrow a drill?” she asked Dad without any pre-empt.

“Check the garage,” Dad said and then opened his book again. Greyson and Mom were still going at it, and any minute now she was going to take away his keys and then he’d be sorry.

“I’m taking the keys. No car for a week, Grayson Eli,” Mom said.

Clockwork. It was always the same.

“So, how was the store?” Dad asked as he continued reading.

“Fine. Same old, same old,” I said, trying not to sound too grim. It was the same people, every day. Pizzas and beer and cigarettes and bait. I levered myself off the couch and headed upstairs to wash the smell of pizza dough out of my hair.

****

Moving back home was supposed to be temporary, but I didn’t think I was getting out anytime soon. I didn’t make a whole lot and I was paying out my ass for student loans. I had a room all to myself, which I hadn’t had growing up and it was at the very top of the house, so when I closed the door I could almost imagine I had my own apartment. Almost.

I showered and changed into a pair of boxer shorts since my room was about a thousand degrees. I turned on the shitty air conditioner and it made a sputtering noise and started halfheartedly pushing out cool air.

Half of my room was devoted to my bed and my dresser and other essentials and the other half was taken up with canvases and brushes and cloth to cover the hardwood so I wouldn’t drop more paint splatters on it than were already there. I had dozens of half-finished paintings and stacks of half-completed sketches. More often than not my hands were covered in paint or I had charcoal dust under my fingernails. Or at least they used to be.

I hadn’t painted or sketched in ages. Hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t felt the need to. I got up and walked over to one of my larger canvasses. I’d attempted to capture a thunderstorm over the ocean, all swirling clouds and colors. It was still unfinished.

“Dinner!” my mom yelled from downstairs. Somehow her voice could carry through the entire house, no matter where you were.

I was back to being a kid again after having years of freedom at college. It was like I’d gone backwards, but there was nothing to do about it.

Family comes first, Mom always said. Family comes first.

Remi

I have officially failed, I thought as I drove past the sign that told me I was back in my hometown of Hope Harbor. I snorted at the name because I didn’t have a whole lotta hope at the moment.

My chest started getting tighter the closer I got to my parents’ house and I had to pull over and stop the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out. I was on a side road so there was no risk someone was going to come around the corner and take me out.

Not like New York.

I missed the sound of the city. Fuck, I even missed the smell. Those hotdog carts and the fumes from the cars and everything else.

It was so... quiet here. But then, that was probably why so many people ventured here in the summer. The tourists would still be around for a while yet, since it was only the end of August.

The city would be steaming and sweaty and grumpy today. Instead I was here with an ocean breeze teasing the ends of my deep purple hair. I’d dyed it when I left and I couldn’t imagine going back to plain brown, even if the purple would get me looks around here.

My phone chimed with a text from my mother, asking where I was. Shit. I couldn’t have five minutes alone? I sighed and got back in the car and headed to the house.

My parents lived down a dirt road in a little cottage that had seen better days. Dad wasn’t exactly an accomplished handyman, but he tried his best and there was a new coat of off-white paint on the outside when I pulled into the spot next to his truck.

I had barely opened the car door before I was engulfed in my mom’s arms.

“Oh, Remi, it’s so good to see you!” she squealed while I tried to breathe. When I finally could, I inhaled the scent of fresh bread. Mom always smelled like baked goods, which was probably why I consistently carried a few extra pounds on my five-foot-three frame. I’d all but given up on getting rid of them at this point. She’d been working at the local supermarket in the bakery department since I could remember.

“Look your hair,” she said, frowning in disapproval and lifting a purple lock off my shoulder before dropping it again. “Whatever possessed you to dye it that color?”

Not even thirty seconds and the judgment had already started. Lovely.

“Nice to see you too,” I snapped and Dad came bumbling out of the house to hug me as well.

“Now, now, your mother has been waiting ages to see you,” he said, putting a kiss on my cheek. I bit back a retort and smiled at him. I loved my dad. He understood me much better than Mom did. He didn’t question my decisions, as long as they made me happy. Mom, on the other hand...

I grabbed a few things and headed into the house and toward my room. I cringed when I opened the door. Everything was exactly the same as the last time I was here. Joy. The bed even had faded flowered sheets on it and the pillows stacked just right. Mom must have made it because I’d never fixed it like that.

I closed the door and sat on my bed. The metal frame still squeaked. Closing my eyes, I clicked my heels together and wished myself back into my microscopic NYC apartment. I opened them and I was still in my bedroom in Maine.

“Shit,” I said under my breath before I got up and started unpacking.

****

Mom insisted on having a Welcome Home dinner for me, complete with a tiramisu cheesecake. Okay, so maybe I had missed her baking. A little. After dinner my parents forced me to watch TV with them.

My life was officially over.

I claimed I was sleepy and escaped to my room as soon as I could. I still hadn’t unpacked everything because that would be like giving in, officially, and I wasn’t ready for that step yet.

I spent the next several hours on my phone and my laptop, trying to find something to distract me, but nothing would stop my spinning thoughts. I tried to sleep, but it wasn’t happening.

Finally, I got out of bed and tiptoed through the house and out to the porch to sit on the wooden swing.

How had I let my life get so messed up? I brought my knees up and put my chin on them. It was freezing out, but I’d put a sweatshirt on.

I couldn’t pinpoint one moment when things had crashed and burned. It was a series of moments and bad decisions. Maybe it was when I couldn’t find a job after getting a bachelor’s degree in psychology or got fired from my most recent job for bitching out a homophobic customer, or when I rented an apartment in a shady building, or when I spent too much money trying to actually eat and survive. It didn’t matter. I was out of money, out of luck and out of options. Except one, and here I was.

Home again.

Two

Brooks

Saturday night I got off work and headed down to the wharf to meet Levi for a drink. We’d been friends since high school and had caught up again when I moved back.

“Hey, how’s the DOT?” I asked as I slid onto a barstool and he waved to the bartender (another girl I’d gone to high school with, only she was a few years older) to bring me a Bud Light.

“Shit. Complete shit,” he said, taking a swig from his beer. Levi worked for the Maine Department of Transportation, paving roads and so forth. It was rough work and I knew he hated it, but he didn’t know what else to do with his life. Like a lot of us that stuck around.

“What else is new?” I asked and he nodded.

“Amen.”

We talked about work and people we both knew and how the Sox were looking for next season.

“I saw your sister the other day,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and I punched him in the shoulder.

“Seriously. Don’t even.” He was barking up the wrong tree. Falyn was strictly into girls. Many a male heart had been broken because of that.

“What? I can’t notice a pretty girl?” He turned and winked at Shelby, the bartender, and she flashed him her middle finger and told him to go fuck himself. He just chuckled and blew a kiss at her.

“You can notice without telling me about it, Levi,” I said. I finished my beer and had another, for lack of anything better to do. Downside of living in a small town.

Last call came and I headed home. The house was dark, but the porch light was on for me. Thanks, Mom.

I stumbled up to my room and crashed on my bed, but I wasn’t tired. My brain was crammed with too many thoughts. When I used to get like that, I’d pick up a paintbrush, or a piece of charcoal, but it was like I’d forgotten how.

I sat up and looked at my canvasses. So many things in progress and nothing finished. Nothing finished for ages.

Before I could question myself, I got out one of my sketchpads and turned to a fresh page. My fingers trembled a little as I selected a charcoal pencil and sharpened it. The ritual was the same; my body remembered. It was getting my brain in line that was the hard part.

I stared at the blank page for a while until I got up and turned off the lights. The white of the paper glowed from the moonlight streaming in through my window. I grabbed my rolling chair and slid it over to the window. I always preferred natural subjects, as opposed to ones that were posed.

A breeze with a hint of the last bit of summer blew through the leaves in the big oak tree in our backyard. My hand started moving even before I’d decided what I wanted to draw. I didn’t think; just let my hand go.

Before I knew it, I’d covered the page with an image of the tree under the moonlight. My hand was a little sore. Not used to working like that anymore. I set the pad down and dusted off my hands.

My mind was finally quiet as I collapsed in bed and fell asleep.

****

My oldest brother, Avery, called me the next day to get an update on how the business was going. He was a loan officer at the bank in town and had his sights set on being the bank president in another few years. More power to him.

I gave him the rundown because Mom was still doing the bookkeeping at home, so I didn’t have to worry about that part.

“You going to come down for dinner tonight?” My mom had a family dinner every Sunday whether we wanted to show up or not. Attendance was mandatory unless you were out of town, or you were the oldest Benson brother, apparently. Avery got off more often than not. I wasn’t too happy with him about it.

“Yeah, I think I can make it. Might be a little late.” What a surprise. I told him I hoped he’d get his ass there and hung up, annoyed.

I closed early and headed home. Mom was used to cooking for a family of nine and didn’t want to cut back anytime soon. The driveway was full of vehicles and I had to park almost on the street so people could get out around me.

Everyone was either in the kitchen or the living room when I walked inside. My brothers Dasen and Callan were busy battling each other for videogame supremacy as Dad set the table with the help of Ezra. Falyn and Grey were in the kitchen with Mom, putting the finishing touches on dinner. The gang was all here, minus Avery.

“Oh, Brooks, can you take that tray to the dining room?” Mom asked, pointing to the enormous casserole dish filled with macaroni and cheese with crumbled Ritz crackers on top. My mouth watered just seeing it. She always used four kinds of cheese and never skimped.

I put on some oven mitts and carried the dish to the dining table. It had been an anniversary present from Dad a few years ago. A table long enough for us all to sit. I’d gotten to do some carving in it as well, doing an intricate B in the center. Mom hated to cover it up with a tablecloth, but she also wanted to protect the table from all of us.

Mom sat at one end of the table, Dad at the other and the rest of us sat in between. Avery came in just as we were ready to start.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, kissing Mom on the cheek and taking the seat on my left. Dad said grace and then we all dug in, four or five different conversations happening at once. We all talked over one another and more than a few of us had problems controlling voice volume so it got noisy.

Mom was talking with Ezra and Falyn because they’d just moved into the little cottage by the water that my parents used as a weekend getaway. The place was absolutely falling apart, but they were making the best of it. Ezra was good at fixing things and Falyn had started painting the outside and fiddling with the gardens.

Dasen was waving his fork around and talking to Dad about his daughter, Pearl, and still trying to work things out between him and her mom. Wasn’t going well, but that was par for the course. Those two were not destined for one another, but they had Pearl, so they had to try and get along somewhat.

“You are not driving my truck,” Callan said to Greyson. He’d been trying to convince each one of us to take him out so he could practice for his driving test, but wasn’t having much luck.

“You’re going to burn the clutch out,” Callan said and Greyson grumbled.

“I’ll take you,” I said. My truck was a piece of shit and buying a new clutch wouldn’t bother me.

“Thanks,” Greyson said, beaming. He often got left behind as the youngest, so I tried to be nice to him when I could.

We all ate and had dessert and coffee and then the members who didn’t live here anymore headed off, leaving Greyson and me with the dishes.

“Thank you, baby,” Mom said, giving me a hug. She didn’t look like a woman who’d had five children (and adopted two). People always thought she was at least ten years younger than she was. I’d gotten her eyes and Dad’s height. Somehow, even though they were adopted, Ezra and Falyn looked like they shared our DNA. One big happy family.

“You’re welcome,” I said. By the time we were done loading the dishwasher, I was utterly exhausted.

“Hey, come have some tea with me,” Mom said, grabbing my arm and steering me to the small breakfast nook in the kitchen where we’d eaten our pancakes in shifts when we were little.

It was an order, not a suggestion, so I sat as she put the kettle on, carefully packed some of her loose leaf tea into two tea balls and then poured the steaming water in the cups. I added honey to mine, while she had hers straight.

“You’re not happy.” It wasn’t a question. Lilly Benson didn’t fuck around. The woman had raised seven children and knew what was wrong with you before you did.

“I’m fine,” I said, dipping the tea ball in and out of the water.

“No, you’re not happy. And I feel like it’s my fault.” She sat back in her chair and sighed. Her back had mostly healed, but she had some permanent nerve and disk damage that prevented her from doing anything strenuous. I knew how much she hated that she couldn’t garden like she used to, or take her long walks in the mornings.

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” I said, reaching for her hand. She squeezed and then let go.

“I know. It’s no one’s fault, but I’m your mother and I feel responsible that you gave up everything for us.” I kept my mouth shut. The thing was, I hadn’t been happy at school, either. I didn’t even know why I’d gone into business, but by the time I figured that out, I was applying for master’s programs and there was no turning back.

The only thing that ever made me even remotely happy (if you could call it that) was art. But I’d never even considered it as a career. Why would I take the one thing that kept me calm and turn it into a soul-sucking job? I would do anything to avoid ruining it as an outlet.

“I didn’t. I didn’t have anything to give up,” I said, and that was the awful truth. I’d had nothing to give up. Nothing I’d been working for.

So here I was, and at least here, I was doing something to help. There was comfort in that.

“You’re so sad and it breaks my heart. I want you to start painting again.” Her eyes flicked to the cabinets, which I’d hand-stenciled five years ago. She’d let me go nuts with my art. The hallways were decorated with my finger paintings and watercolors and the stairs had my dark emo high school phase; the bathroom had a mural of the bottom of the ocean.

“I’m still making things,” I said, which wasn’t a lie. I’d started that charcoal drawing. That was something.

We both sipped our tea.

“You don’t belong here. You never did. It used to make me so sad. I knew, out of all of you, that you weren’t destined to stay in Hope Harbor.” Yet here I was.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Okay? I’m running the store and that’s final.” I got up and she grabbed my arm.

“I just want you to be happy,” she said. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Her hair was a bright blonde without a hint of grey. I’d inherited my father’s dark brown waves.

“I know. I love you.” I took my tea and slowly walked upstairs, calling goodnight to my dad.

Remi

It took me one week to feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin. There was a reason I’d left home and I was remembering it every minute I spent with my parents. They weren’t bad people, we just didn’t really understand each other. Well, my dad understood me. My mom, not so much. If she wasn’t criticizing my hair, the way I ate, the amount I swore, the clothes I wore, she wasn’t talking.

“I’m going to kill her,” I told Dad one day when she was out grocery shopping.

He gave me a big hug and kissed my cheek.

“She loves you. She’s just not real good at showing it.” What the fuck did that mean?

“Can you tell her to lay off? Just a little?” I begged. He said he would, but in arguments between Mom and me, he always took her side.

I took whatever time I could to escape and just drive around. There wasn’t much to Hope Harbor, but I found comfort in the air drenched with salt and the scent of pine. I’d missed everything smelling green and fresh.

It was lonely, though. I’d cut all ties with everyone I’d gone to school with and most of my high school friends had left the state in search of better job opportunities. Like I had; only now I was back.

I needed to do was find a job, but the search wasn’t going well. I even tried signing up for substitute teaching, but they took one look at my purple hair and my lack of experience and I knew I was never going to get a call.

While my parents were at work, I puttered around the house, reading all the books I’d left behind when I’d moved, doing laundry and finally, I broke down and started baking. I’d spend the whole day covered in flour and when my parents came home they’d find trays of snickerdoodles and cakes and pies. There were only three of us, so Dad brought them to his co-workers and they started putting in orders.

I made a triple chocolate caramel cake for an anniversary and a few apple galettes for a bake sale and before I knew it, I had a little business going. My parents were happy to let me use their kitchen, as long as I paid for my own ingredients. I also had my own trays and pans from New York.

“You should take some of your cookies and whoopie pies around and see if some of the local businesses will sell them on the counters,” Dad suggested. Sounded good to me. If I could sell enough, I might be able to turn it into an actual business and get the hell out of this house. Anything to get out of this house.

So I carefully made a batch of my regular whoopie pies, some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and some vanilla chai cupcakes and took them around to some of the local spots. Not having much luck, I decided to try Benson Variety as a last-ditch effort.

The screen inner door banged open and I looked up, hoping no one was staring at the girl with the purple hair and the Tupperware container she had balanced in her hands.

Fortunately, the place was empty.

Except for one person.

Brooks Goddamn Benson. Goddamn wasn’t his middle name, but it might as well have been. We’d graduated the same year, but we’d never been friends. Not even close. What was he doing here, anyway? Last I heard he was off earning a master’s degree, in a land far, far away from Hope Harbor.

He looked up and I locked eyes with him. Mine narrowed and he just sort of... kept staring. Brooks was one of those guys who looked at you like he might be picturing you naked.

He cleared his throat. Not my type. Not at all...

He scratched his ear. “What can I do for you?” I thought about just turning around and walking out, but I’d already come this far and if he was back in town too, I was probably going to keep running into him.

“I was just wondering if you’d be willing to sell some of my baked goods here on commission. But I haven’t had any luck, so I’ll just leave,” I said, but he was looking down at the container.

“Did you bring some samples?” he asked. I set the container down, crossed my arms and nodded. I didn’t want this dude eating anything I’d put effort into, but if it would help me get away from my parents’ house, fuck it. I’d do it.

“Yeah. So you can judge their quality.” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. I was really blowing this. I needed better people skills.

“Do you mind?” Hey, at least he asked. I nodded again and he opened the container. I stood there as he tried each item.

“Wow,” he said when he got to the cupcake. “That’s amazing. Where did you learn how to bake?” I was not making small talk with him.

“My mom,” I said. He finished the whole thing in three bites. There was some frosting on his nose. I wanted to wipe it off for some reason. Thankfully I caught myself and forced myself to stop looking at his face.

“Sure, yeah, I’ll have to run it by my mom, but I’m sure they’d have no problem. How about I give you a call and we can work out a deal?” Smooth. Real smooth. I wanted to tell him my number was 867-5309, but then I’d never make any money, so I reluctantly gave him my cell phone number. I was about to get the hell out of there when he unleashed that patented Benson smile that had made many a girl swoon in high school. Those boys left a lot of broken hearts in their wake. Thankfully, not mine. Not then, not ever.

“Can I have another one?” He pointed to the last cupcake. I sighed.

“Sure.” The grin widened and I hated how my hormones were responding to it. Simmer down, ladyparts. It’s not happening.

“Thanks,” he said, picking up the cupcake and finishing it, too.

“Seriously, that’s one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” He licked some frosting off his finger and I knew he meant it to sound exactly how it sounded. Bastard.

I snatched up the Tupperware.

“I look forward to hearing from you,” I said with a sweet smile.

“You have frosting on your nose,” I threw over my shoulder as I walked out, the door banging behind me.

Three

Brooks

Holy. Hell. Remi Wright got hot. I mean, way hot. Not that she wasn’t in high school but, holy shit. That purple hair and the attitude were totally working for her. I hadn’t seen her since graduation and clearly, she’d done a lot of growing up. The curves she was rocking hadn’t escaped my attention either. It was good. All good. Plus, I hadn’t been lying about the deliciousness of the cupcakes and cookies. Even my mom, a lifelong baker and an excellent cook, couldn’t top that. The taste of frosting lingered on my tongue for the rest of the day and I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl with the purple hair who’d made it.

****

I pitched the idea of stocking Remi’s baked goods at the store that night.

“Oh, I remember her. Nice family. Only child, right?” Even though she hadn’t been around for years, Mom still remembered her.

“I always thought she was a nice girl. Odd, but nice.” She had been a little odd in high school, but that hadn’t really been her fault. She just... didn’t seem to fit in with most of the people in Hope Harbor. Like she’d been born here, but was just stopping temporarily on her journey somewhere else. She’d always been intimidating, even in elementary school. Definitely not a girl I ever would have approached when I was younger and stupider.

What an idiot.

Well, she was back in town now, and, with any luck, I’d be seeing a lot of her.

I put off calling Remi to let her know that we would sell her baked goods at the store until the next day. I didn’t know why, but I was a little nervous about talking to her. She’d been totally hostile, and I’d spent quite a while thinking about why that would be. I’d never been overtly mean to her, but I had been a dumbass when I was younger. The chances I’d said something stupid that had stuck with her were pretty high. I made a mental note to ask her so I could apologize and maybe we could start over. For some reason, I really wanted to know why she’d come back. Where she’d been. What she’d been doing. She was... interesting. And I hadn’t been interested in anything for a long time.

****

“Yeah, Remi? This is Brooks. Benson. Brooks Benson. I just wanted to call you back and let you know that we’d be happy to let you sell your stuff at the store for a thirty percent commission. Uh, let me know if that works for you. Or doesn’t. Yeah, just call me back.” I hung up and wanted to strangle myself for sounding like such a dumbass. Why couldn’t I talk to her like a normal person?

“Idiot,” I said to myself as I put my phone away and went to make another pizza.

She didn’t call me back until two days later, and when she did, she kept the conversation brief and hung up before I could even get a word in. Guess she really didn’t want to talk to me, even though she’d agreed to the terms.  What the hell had I done?

Remi

I let the voicemail from Brooks sit on my phone for two whole days. Two days of seeing that stupid little notification every time I used my phone. I had half a mind to delete it and forget the whole thing, but I needed the money.

Of course, because this was a small damn town and everyone couldn’t keep their traps shut, my mom found out that I’d talked to Brooks and wouldn’t shut up about how good-looking he was and how he’d come back from college to help his family and how wonderful he was and how great he would be to sire offspring. I had to listen, because she always talked to me when I was doing something else and couldn’t escape.

So he was good-looking. All those Benson kids were, for some reason. Good genes, probably. That didn’t mean anything. He was a total asshole. I couldn’t stand him and I was going to do whatever I could to avoid him as much as possible. I’d have to see him at least a few times a week when I dropped off new treats and settled up with him, but that was it. My mom had gotten it into her head that she wanted Brooks Benson as a son-in-law and wouldn’t stop telling me I should “make an effort” with him.

“Mom. Seriously. Stop,” I finally said when she accosted me as I was assembling whoopie pies.

“I’m just looking out for you, that’s all. Don’t get all huffy with me, Remington Rose. I want you to get married and have babies. You’re so...” She didn’t finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to. I was so not the daughter she wanted, and she was never going to let me forget it. When I was younger, I’d tried. I’d tried to wear the right things and do the right activities and say the right things. It was horrible I hated it. In high school I’d rebelled. At least as much as I could in a small town. Hung out with a different crowd, snuck out. The usual. Nothing too bad because I didn’t want to end up in jail or dead or pregnant. But enough to push my mom’s buttons and get her to sit me down for multiple lectures. Ah, memories.

****

I spent the next day making up all the packaging for my goodies. I’d come up with a business name—Sweet Shots. Because I was technically named after a gun, haha, I’m so clever—and a cute little logo that I’d designed in Photoshop. I had hundreds of labels to stick on boxes and bags for everything. My room turned into a complete disaster, but there was nowhere else to work.

Mom was semi-supportive, but kept grumbling about me monopolizing the oven. I told her that I didn’t have anywhere else to go, but as soon as I could afford to, I’d either move out or rent a kitchen. She got all upset about me threatening to move out and leaving the house so I didn’t say a bunch of things I would later regret. Instead I went for a drive, cranking up the volume on all my angry music. When I got back a few hours later, she’d calmed down. Dad must have had a little chat with her.

I baked overtime that night and by the next morning, I had three times as many items as they’d asked for at Benson Variety. Just in case. Now I just had to deliver them.

****

I got to the store just as Brooks was opening. I cleared my throat and he came around the corner with a broom in his hand.

“Oh, hey. You’re here.” He looked a little shocked to see me, even though this was exactly what we’d agreed on.

“I have stuff. In my car.” I hadn’t been able to carry everything and open the door so I’d left the stuff on my backseat.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, leaning the broom up against the wall.

“Yeah. Sure,” I said, reluctant to let him do anything nice for me.

He followed me out to my car and took the boxes, stacking them up. I tried to protest, but he just headed toward the door without another word and somehow opened it with his elbow.

“Thanks,” I said as he put the boxes down on the counter.

“So, I cleared a space for you last night,” he said, gesturing to the empty right side of the counter that used to display gum and flyers for fishing derbies.

“I don’t know if you have a display or anything, but if you need more room, just let me know.” He passed by me. I inhaled just as he went by and got a hit of his cologne. Nice.

Oh for the love of cupcakes, Remi. Don’t even go there.

****

I set everything up on the little cardboard stand I’d ordered to match my labels. They were purple, of course. Brooks didn’t talk to me as he swept the rest of the store, stocked the beer freezer and did other little chores. I almost forgot he was there until a voice said “That looks good,” behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shit, don’t do that,” I said, putting my hand on my heart and turning around to glare at him. He had the oddest expression on his face.

“I really like your hair. Like the color. It works for you,” he said. I had no words to respond to that. I just sort of floundered until he moved around the counter to get the register going. I was stalling and I didn’t know why.

I’d arranged and re-arranged everything like a hundred times. I had other shit to do today and here I was, hanging out at Benson Variety. Like a loser. A few of the townies had been in and out, getting sodas and chips and some of the premade breakfast sandwiches Brooks warmed up in the microwave in back. I’d gotten a few strange looks and a few hellos, but I hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone. They were part of the reason I wanted to get the hell out of this place. Small town, small minds. God forbid they encounter anyone who was even a little bit different or odd or unique.

I mean, purple hair wasn’t even that outlandish. At least Brooks didn’t look at my hair like it was freaky.

Ugh, not going there, Rem.

“Okay, so I’m done,” I said after Brooks rung up a guy who bought about fifty scratch tickets.

“Looks great. I’ll be sure to let you know how things are selling. And you’ll be back in three days to restock?” I nodded and there was that smile that made my insides flutter a little. I really needed to get control of my body.

“See you around, Remington,” he said, turning the name that I’d always kind of hated into something... sexy.

Intimate.

He said my name the way you’d say it to someone you’d just spent a while rolling around in bed with. I could feel myself blushing.

“Okay, bye,” I said, a little too loudly as I checked my display one more time before leaving. Brooks Goddamn Benson.

Four

Brooks

That first day, I ended up buying almost half of Remi’s cookies and whoopie pies myself. They were really fucking good and I knew my siblings would eat them if I didn’t. I also wanted to make sure they were selling well. She hadn’t said as much, but I could tell she was a little desperate when it came to money.

Mom had gotten a little bit of gossip about her and passed it on to me. Guess Remi went to New York and finished college and then had a series of jobs, but couldn’t make ends meet and had to come home. I understood that, more than I could tell her. To have almost total freedom and then to have to come back and live under your parents’ roof sucked major ass.

I wanted to ask her about it. I wanted to talk to her, but she didn’t want to talk to me. At all. And then I’d made an ass of myself complimenting her hair and now she was probably never going to speak to me again. Oh well. I was going to see her again on Saturday when she came to restock.

****

It was ridiculous how much I was looking forward to seeing her again. I was almost driven to distraction. I also kept watching her display constantly and every time anyone got close to it, I told them to buy something. Some of the guys gave me weird looks, but a lot of the customers were willing to take a chance on a cookie. Everything was sold out by Friday night. If it hadn’t sold by Saturday, I would have bought it all. At least until she got herself established. There was no way she wasn’t going be successful. That shit was like edible crack.

****

“I saw Carol Wright at the bank the other day. She said Remi has been baking up a storm,” my mom said that night over tacos. I nearly dropped mine at the mention of Remi’s name.

“Yeah, everything she’s made has sold out.” Mom gave me a look.

“What? I swear I didn’t buy it all. After that first day the stuff sold itself. I didn’t have to do much. I swear.” She laughed and shared a look with Dad.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re so supportive.” She put extra emphasis on the last word, and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

“She hates me. Like, I can feel her wanting to stab or strangle me every time she sees me. So I’m pretty sure nothing is going to happen there.” Didn’t stop me from attempting to flirt with, or be nice to her. Not that I would do any good. No one needed to tell me Remi was stubborn as fuck and once she made up her mind about someone, she didn’t change.

“Well, stranger things have happened,” Mom said with a little sing-song. It was just the three of us tonight since Grey was having dinner at a friend’s. The big house was so empty. It felt wrong. I couldn’t imagine being an only child. My family was a pain, but at least I’d never really been lonely.

“Okay, Mom. Sure,” I said and she just winked at Dad.

****

I was a little nervous to see Remi on Saturday morning, but there she was, wearing a bright yellow tank, torn jeans and pink Chucks. With her purple hair, she was a burst of color. Her sunglasses were shaped like hearts and I could feel her glaring at me through them.

“How did they do? Did I sell any? Wait, don’t tell me if I didn’t sell any. Just lie.” She was messing with her keys. I’d never seen Remi Wright nervous and it was cute as hell.

“Everything sold,” I said.

“You’re shitting me.” I burst out laughing. I loved that she cursed so much.

“Not at all. Come and see.” I led her into the store and gestured to the empty display.

“Shut the front door,” she whispered and then turned to me, her mouth open.

“You swear you sold everything. You didn’t just hide it or something.” I shook my head.

“No way.” She made the most adorable squealing noise and launched herself at me. I was so shocked that I stumbled for a second before my arms went around her waist.

She held on for exactly a half a second and then pushed me away.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I don’t know what just happened there.” Her entire face was on fire.

So. Cute.

“Well, it’s not every day a cute girl hugs me out of the blue, so I’ll count today in the win column,” I said. She looked down at her shoes and laughed just a little.

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day that I throw myself at people.” She cleared her throat and I offered to carry the boxes in for her again. She agreed, then she went through the ritual of setting everything up. I got the numbers together for her and counted out what she’d earned. Her eyes got big as I handed the cash over.

“Are you sure this is the right amount?’ I counted it again and she scanned the numbers.

“To the cent,” I said, pointing to the change in her hand that I’d passed over.

“Wow,” she said before she folded up the money and shoved it in her back pocket.

“Sooo, I’ll see you on Tuesday?” she said.

“Better make it Monday. I sold out on Friday and didn’t have any left, so you might want to either make more so I can restock for you, or come more often. It’s up to you.” She thought about that for a minute, chewing on her lip.

“I guess I can come on Monday. And I’ll bring more. My mom is going to LOVE me monopolizing the kitchen for the entire weekend.” I opened my mouth to tell her she was welcome at the Benson house, but I didn’t know how she would take that, so I kept my mouth shut. Then I had another idea.

“You could come here. I have a regular oven in addition to the pizza oven in the back,” I said, pointing with my thumb. “You could bring your ingredients and store them. Baking it here would make the store smell amazing, plus you could sell them yourself. I’m not sure I did a very good job.” Her eyes narrowed as if she was looking for how this could be a trap.

“Seriously, the oven is yours. You can go check it out right now if you want.” I walked around the counter and waited for her to follow. She did, after a beat of hesitation.

I hadn’t used the oven in a while, but I kept it clean, so it was all in working order when she checked it out.

“Yeah, this could work,” she said, looking at the size and measuring with her hands. “I can get some of my big trays in here.”

“There you go. Problem solved.” She stood up and I smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back.

“Sure you want to put up with me back here for hours on end?” she asked.

“I think I can handle it,” I said, which was total bullshit. Having her here all the time was going to be like pressing my nose up against one of those glass dessert cases and not being able to get a taste.

But I could handle it. I could totally handle it. Seeing her was better than not seeing her at all. And maybe if she hung out with me, I could undo some of whatever damage I’d done in high school. I really wanted her to know that I wasn’t that guy anymore. Or at least that I wouldn’t do whatever I’d done, again.

“Oh, Brooks, she said with a sigh, “you have no idea.”

Remington Wright was a complication. A sweet, sexy complication that I was looking forward to unraveling.

****

“Saw Remi Wright the other day,” Falyn said, winking at me across the table that Sunday night.

“She’s hot. I really dig the purple hair.” Me too, but I didn’t say that.

“Falyn, please,” Mom said with a sigh.

“Seriously, do you have to objectify everyone?” Ezra said and Falyn threw a carrot at him.

“Yeah, like you weren’t ogling her ass. You’re so full of shit.”

“Language,” Dad said wearily. It was a losing battle in this house. None of us had any kind of filter.

“Don’t think she’s into girls, Lyn. But you never know...” Falyn grinned at me.

“That’s right. You never know.” She wiggled her eyebrows and I couldn’t help but laugh. Being the only girl in the middle of six boys probably hadn’t done Falyn any favors, but she could hold her own. She and Ezra were mirror images of one another, both with light brown hair that highlighted easily in the summer, tan skin and hazel eyes, with Falyn’s shading more toward green than Ezra’s.

They were joined at the hip. I didn’t understand how they could live under the same roof and not want to kill each other, but they were both sides of the same coin.

Avery was absent yet again and I was still pissed at him. We’d had a knock-down drag out that had almost come to blows back when I’d first moved back. I’d accused him (rightly so) of abandoning his family responsibilities. He was the oldest, after all. He’d thrown it back in my face that he was doing the best he could and that he’d bailed our parents out a few times financially. I hadn’t known about that and hadn’t asked Mom or Dad.

Money had never been plentiful in the Benson house, but we’d never been destitute either. We’d had just enough and maybe a little extra. Raising seven children wasn’t cheap, that was for sure. I definitely didn’t want seven. Maybe one. If I found the right girl to have one with. I loved being an uncle to Pearl, and could see having a little girl someday. An image of Remi slid through my mind and I shoved it away. I really shouldn’t think of her in that context. Definitely not. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.

Remi

It was a case of the lesser of two evils. Either bake at my parents’ house and deal with my mom, or bake at Benson Variety and have to put up with Brooks. I mentally flipped a coin and decided I’d rather handle the latter. I had a better chance of him actually leaving me alone to do my thing than of Mom not harping and nagging me. She didn’t know how to do anything else.

So Brooks it was. I agreed to come over to the store on Sunday night and he surprised me by telling me I could have the place to myself because he had to go have dinner with his family. That was... kind of sweet.

“Aren’t you worried I’m going to clean you out?” He pointed to three security cameras and then opened the empty register.

“Nope. But, if you’re going to steal anything, I’d go with the scratch tickets. You have a better chance of making some decent money,” he said as he headed out the door. He’d be back to lock up in a few hours, though.

I felt funny about making him come back, but he said it was no big deal, so I headed back to the kitchen and started mixing the dough for my triple chocolate chip cookies. I’d decided to do new recipes each time so I could judge what was the most popular. Chocolate usually did pretty well, so I wasn’t worried about these. While the first batch was in the oven, I started the whoopie pie batter, then frosting and finally mixed up some lemon chiffon cupcake batter. I was so in the zone and humming along to the country radio station I’d turned on that I nearly dropped my mixing bowl when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” I screamed at Brooks. “Why do you keep sneaking up on me?” I almost smacked him with my spoon, but then I would have ruined the batter.

He tried to hide a smile which only made me want to hit him more.

“I called your name a few times. But you were too busy rocking out to Lady Antebellum to hear me.” I reached up and turned the radio down, glaring at him the whole time.

“Shut up,” I said, setting the bowl down on the counter. I was a mess and I probably had frosting and flour on my face. Whatever. Who was I trying to impress?

Brooks reached out and brushed my cheek with his thumb and then slowly dipped it into his mouth.

Fucking hell.

“You had some frosting on your cheek,” he said in a low voice as I realized we were standing way too close to each other. I was definitely having trouble breathing and the smell of Brooks was overpowering the smell of baked goods. I cleared my throat and stepped away. As if it had been listening, the oven timer went off so I dashed over to retrieve a tray of whoopie pie cakes. I just needed to cool them, then add the frosting and put them together. While I was waiting I could bake the rest of the lemon cupcakes and I’d be done.

“Do you, uh, need any help?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. The only time I’d ever seen Brooks in anything other than jeans had been during been graduation. I realized I’d been staring at said jeans, and that it probably wasn’t a good idea.

“No. I’m fine. I’m almost done. Another hour or so.” I looked at the clock and realized it was after ten.

Brooks took his hands out of his pockets and held them up.

“Many hands make light work. Or so my mom says and she raised seven of us, so she’s pretty much an authority on the subject.” I hated that he was right. I was definitely a control freak when it came to my baking. I wouldn’t even let my mom help and she’d been baking for longer than I’d been alive.

I considered my options and finally told him that he could line the cupcake tray with the little paper liners. No one could possibly screw that up. Once he passed over a tray with the liners, I used a small ice cream scoop to measure out the batter before I dropped it in the papers. He just stood there and watched. It was a little creepy.

“If you really want to help, you can wash out some of those bowls.” I’d filled the sink and had most of them soaking so I’d only have to do a quick scrub and a rinse before I left. I expected a protest, but he just walked over and started the water in the industrial sink.

He didn’t talk and I didn’t either. We just occupied the same space and stayed out of each other’s way. It was unnerving.

“Okay, one of us is going to have to start talking, because I can’t deal with the silence anymore,” I said as I slid the whoopie pie cakes off the trays to cool.

Brooks turned off the sink and wiped his hands on a towel.

“What do you want me to say?” I rolled my eyes.

“You don’t have to be all hostile,” I said.

“Why not? You’re hostile to me.” I gaped at him as he crossed his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow.

“I’m hostile to everyone. Just ask my mother,” I said, grabbing the bowl of whoopie pie frosting and mixing it, even though it was already blended. I needed something to do with my hands.

“Cute,” he said, walking over to me.

I didn’t want him to think I was cute. I wanted him to think... I didn’t want him to think anything about me at all.

“So, why are you so hostile?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the counter beside me. I didn’t like how close he was. Go away, Brooks Benson.

“Guess I was just born with a low bullshit tolerance,” I said, picking up my large ice cream scoop to start assembling the whoopie pies.

Brooks shadowed me and chuckled.

“I like that in a woman.”

I stared at him.

“Are you seriously hitting on me right now?” He put his hands up.

“Wasn’t trying to. Just making conversation. My mistake.” He was really starting to drive me bonkers.

“Yeah, you just keep the flirting to a minimum. I’m not interested. Now, or ever.” I made sure I stared at him and didn’t blink when I said it.

“That’s fine,” he said. “But you said you wanted us to talk, so if you could maybe give me some guidance about what you would be willing to chat about, that might be helpful.” I hated how riled up I was getting and he just seemed to keep getting calmer.

“Why did your parents give you alphabetical names?” It was something I’d wondered forever, but had never known the answer to.

He shrugged.

“I think Mom thought it was cute at the time and by the time Callan came along, they were kind of stuck with it, you know?” I nodded as I plopped a scoop of frosting in the middle of a whoopie pie cake and then carefully placed the top on, smushing it just enough so the cream spread out before I placed it in one of the bags with my logo on it.

I made a few more before I said anything else.

“I guess it is cute. Reminds me of that musical.” I looked up and he seemed puzzled.

“What musical?” Surprise, surprise, Brooks Benson was not a musical theater fan. Knock me over with a feather.

“Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,” I said. “You’ve never seen it?”

He shook his head.

“Well. It’s amazing. There are seven brothers and their names are all alphabetical, only in that case, they’re from the Bible. They use Frankincense for the letter F, but they just call him Frank.” That really made him laugh. Like, throw his head back and when he looked at me again, the smile lingered on his face. He had sort of a dimple in one cheek. Huh. Never noticed that before.

“I’m sure Falyn is glad that Mom didn’t go that route,” he said.

“I bet.” I remembered seeing all of them together. Seven seemed like such a huge number when they were all in the same place at the same time. Bless his mother.

I finished up the whoopie pies and then the cupcakes came out of the oven. I finished up the frosting for those, adding lemon extract and just a touch of fresh lemon zest before using a pastry bag to precisely pipe the frosting onto the cupcakes.

Brooks watched and waited.

“You’re really good at that,” he said as I piped the last of the frosting onto the cupcakes. I’d gotten it down to a science so I had exactly the right amount of frosting plus a little extra to frost X amount of cupcakes. I was pretty proud of myself for figuring that out. I also had all my recipes memorized. A lot of them were my own creations anyway.

“Thank you,” I said as I put the cupcakes in their little boxes.

“Done?” he asked as I looked around.

“Yes, except for these last dishes.” I motioned to them and then tucked a stray hair over my ear, probably smearing frosting everywhere.

“Go home. I’ve got this,” he said, picking up the bowls and trays. “I’ll wash everything and it will be here when you need it.” I opened my mouth to protest, but then I yawned instead.

He chuckled and the sound did something to me.

“Go home, Remi. It’s okay. You don’t have to do everything yourself.” That comment made me want to punch him, but I was suddenly so damn tired.

“Fine,” I said, grabbing my bag. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Remington,” he said and I could hear the smirk in his voice even if I couldn’t see it.

Five

Brooks

It was Falyn’s day to help me at the store, so I went ahead into the office to work on some paperwork and other little annoyances so my mom didn’t have to do them. Falyn came back after only ten minutes of working. “Your future wife is here.”

“Shut up,” I said, shoving past her. “And don’t say that too loud. I’m trying to get her to not hate me right now.” Falyn just smirked and flipped her hair over her shoulder, then skipped back to the register.

Remi was in the front of the store, arranging her display. I’d already set everything out last night but I guess she didn’t like how I’d done it. Fair enough. It was her stuff.

“Hey,” I said and she looked up.

“Hey. You didn’t have to put them all out. I could have done that.” I just shrugged.

She fiddled with a few bags and then sighed.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday night?” I wanted to see her sooner.

“Do you want to go get breakfast with me?” That wasn’t what I meant to say. The words fell out of my mouth, but once they were out, I couldn’t take them back.

“What?” I could hear Falyn snickering behind me. I wanted to glare at her. It wasn’t my fault she had better game than I did.

“Do you want to go get some breakfast? Unless you’re busy.” I sounded like an absolute moron. Like I’d never asked a girl out to eat before. I had. Dozens of times, but for some reason Remi had me tongue-tied.

“Oh, um. I guess?” She didn’t sound sure.

“It’s kind of a yes or no question,” I said and she glared.

“Fine. Yes, I will get breakfast with you, Brooks Benson.” I hadn’t anticipated her saying yes. So this was happening. Okay, then.

“Lyn, can you watch the store?” I asked turning around.

“Aye, aye captain,” she said, saluting me and winking. “You kids have fun,” she added in a sing-song tone.

I flashed my middle finger behind my back as I followed Remi out of the store.

“So, where do you want to go?” she asked, fiddling with her keys.

“Brenda’s. Best blueberry pancakes you’ll ever have,” I said, naming a little diner just outside of Hope Harbor in the next town over. It had only opened a few months ago, so chances were that Remi hadn’t eaten there yet.

“I can drive,” I said, pointing to my truck.

For a second she looked like she was going to bolt, but then pulled her sunglasses out of her bag, put them on and said, “Okay.”

****

The diner was tiny, so Remi and I ended up crammed at a small corner table. Her knee kept brushing mine. I didn’t mind.

She ordered tea and I got the same and then I ordered the blueberry pancakes with bacon and hash browns. She paused for a second before she ordered the same thing. Ha.

“I’m surprised you trusted me about the pancakes,” I said as she stared down at the scarred table.

“I don’t trust you. I just really wanted blueberry pancakes,” she said, her eyebrow lifting, as if challenging me to argue with her.

“Fair enough,” I said and we lapsed into silence again.

I decided it was time to bite the bullet.

“So, Remington, what brings you back to town?” Her mouth became a hard line and for a second I thought she was going to get up from the table, tell me to go fuck myself, and leave. But then she sighed and looked up.

“Shit happens,” she said, lifting one shoulder. “I got a degree in psychology but couldn’t find a job I wanted that would pay enough to cover my loans, so then I started working like three jobs and lost them; and then I had to move out of my apartment and a whole bunch of other stuff happened and here I am. Broke as fuck and living with my parents.” She didn’t seem to care if anyone overheard her swearing and I kinda liked that.

“That sucks,” I said, because it did.

“Yup. And it’s mostly my own fault. Poor life decisions and a few mistakes and there you go.” Our waitress arrived with our tea. Remi sipped at hers, winced and then set the cup down again.

“And now it’s my turn to ask what brought you back. Even though I already know.” Of course she knew. Everyone did.

“I was on my own and in miserable in my master’s program when my mom broke her back and my dad had a heart attack. Someone had to be here to take care of things, so I came home. There was no one else to do it.” I didn’t want to make myself sound like some hero, because I wasn’t. I just did what needed to be done at the time.

“That’s nice. That you did that for your family. Mine drives me up a wall.” She smiled just a little and let out this breathless laugh and it was so cute that I really wanted to lean over and kiss her. Which would be wildly inappropriate. I definitely wasn’t going to try it.

“Mine does too, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?” This was the first time we’d had a semi-normal conversation and so far it was going pretty well. I just hoped I didn’t fuck it up. I started talking about what it was like to go from my own apartment to being back in the Benson house and the words just started spilling out of me. The whole time Remi was there. Listening. Our pancakes arrived and she put ketchup on her bacon and I made fun of her for it and then she stole a piece off my plate and the next thing I knew we were laughing together.

It was... easy. So easy.

I didn’t want to stop an examine how easy it was and risk things going back to the way they’d been when we’d first seen each other again.

We ended up talking about people from high school and I gave her some updates on some of the people she’d lost touch with.

“Oh, that bitch. She hated me and the feeling was mutual,” she said about one girl I told her was now on her second kid and living with a guy twice her age.

“God, Remi, tell me how you really feel,” I said. She put her fork down.

“You don’t even know, Brooks. You don’t even know. Guys are cruel to your face. Or they just punch you or something. Girls are different. They’re sneaky and they do stuff behind your back. You have a sister, don’t you know this?” I sort of gaped at her. I didn’t really know what she was talking about.

“Were there a lot of people who were mean to you in high school?” I asked, knowing I was getting close to finding out why she’d been so against me initially.

“Yeah, Brooks, there were,” she said, as if it was something obvious. Now I felt like an asshole AND an idiot. Should have kept my mouth shut and not asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said, really meaning it.

“Yeah, well, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on and shit,” she said, viciously cutting into her pancakes.

“You don’t have to. Move on. If people were shitty to you, you’re allowed to be mad about it still,” I said and she looked up at me.

“Oh, thanks Brooks, I really needed your approval. Thank you SO much for telling me it’s okay to be mad.” Well, shit. I’d definitely fucked this up.

“That’s not what I meant. And I’m sorry. I really am. And if there’s anything that I did in high school, I’m sorry for that too.” She stabbed a bit of pancake on her fork and swirled it around in a puddle of syrup. She didn’t say anything for a long time.

“It’s hard. Being back here. Harder than I thought it would be. All these things that I’ve shoved aside keep coming back up and I wish I didn’t have to remember them. I wish I could just wipe my mind and start over sometimes.” She didn’t say anything about what I may or may not have done.

Realizing it might come back to bite me, I reached across the table and squeezed her hand where it rested next to her plate. Her eyes flicked up at me, but she didn’t tell me to stop. I pulled back.

“You weren’t one of the worst ones. But you hung out with them and stood there when they said things. And you dated some of those girls. I just... all I wanted was for someone to say ‘stop’ and no one did.” She shrugged sadly.

This girl was ripping my heart out. I wanted to go back in time and put on a cape and rescue her. I also wanted to punch my teenage-self right in the face for not doing something when I had the chance.

“I know this doesn’t make a difference, but I was a complete idiot back then. Avery was perfect and the oldest and I wasn’t like him. I sucked at sports and I didn’t get as good grades and all I wanted to do was read graphic novels and draw in my notebook or paint. My parents are amazing and they always supported me, but I still thought that I had to be like him. So most of my efforts at fitting in were to try and emulate him. Everyone loved him. Me, not so much.”

She ate the last bite of pancake from her plate.

“I think a lot of us were idiots in high school. But some people learn.” She looked up at me and I could tell she was silently asking me if I was one of those people.

“I’m not trying to be my brother anymore. He’s kind of an asshole, so...” She snorted.

“Yeah, he always seemed TOO perfect, you know? Like he was wound too tight.” That was the most accurate statement anyone had ever made about Avery Benson. He was obsessed with appearance and making people think he was more than what he came from. Like having parents who owned a variety store wasn’t good enough for him. I bet if he could, he’d tell people his parents were different. Wouldn’t surprise me at all. But that was Avery, Mr. Polished Presentation.

“Well, I don’t care what people think anymore. It’s never gotten me anywhere, so why bother?” She raised one eyebrow and munched on her last piece of bacon.

“Precisely. But it’s a lot easier to do that in New York than in a small town where everyone’s known you since you were born.” I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.

“Well, I think who you are is perfect,” I said and then realized how it sounded. She snorted.

“You’ve only known me for about five minutes. Just wait. You’ll change your tune.” I didn’t think so. Everything I’d seen of her since she came back was just making me like her more and more. It was getting to be a little too much to handle, actually. I just wanted to run my fingers through her purple hair, or make her laugh or see her smile. Or watch her frost cupcakes for hours, her forehead creased in concentration.

We finished our breakfast and I paid the check while she protested.

“This isn’t a date, you know,” she said.

“I know. I didn’t think it was. A friend can’t treat a friend to breakfast?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Are we friends?”

“I mean, I’d like to be. If that’s okay with you. If not, that’s okay too. Although I really could use a friend, Remi.” I hated how desperate I sounded, but I was serious. Yes, she was attractive, but above that, I just liked being around her. Even if she was prickly and snapped at me and challenged me. She was interesting and bright and I needed that. Needed someone like her to shake things up.

“Maybe,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough.”

Remi

He wanted to be my friend, huh? I hadn’t had a lot of guy friends before, and lately I’d pretty much stopped having friends altogether. I was too busy trying to survive and keep my life from falling apart to hang out with anyone or have lunch dates. Eventually, people stopped calling and texting and inviting me to things, and I was alone, which I didn’t really mind. It was easy and I was used to it. But Brooks was... I didn’t know how to classify him. He hadn’t totally convinced me he’d changed from the douchey guy he’d been in high school, but he’d also piqued my curiosity enough that I was willing to give him a chance.

Things were a little awkward as we left the diner.

He opened the door of his truck for me.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked.

“Where?” If he said “my bedroom” I was out.

“There are some nice trails not too far from here. Take a walk with me. Burn off the bacon.” Was he calling me fat? He seemed to realize his mistake before I could even say anything.

“Not that you need to. Seriously, Remi. I’m not going out of my way to piss you off. Just take a walk with me. Come on.” I sighed. It was that or go back home and read on the porch. Alone. Maybe a walk would do me good.

“Okay, sure.” He smiled for a second and that dimple popped in his cheek. A weaker woman than I might have swooned. I didn’t. I wasn’t that easily swayed. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

****

It had been a smart move to wear my worn Chucks instead of the cute little strappy sandals I’d gotten just before I left New York. They probably would have gotten shredded walking through the woods.

Brooks parked the truck right at the head of a little nature trail. I’d never been one for the outdoors, so I hadn’t been here before. He hopped out of the truck and I realized that I should have brought a hat or something. Brooks had a Red Sox cap sitting on his dashboard and I grabbed it, sliding it onto my head. He gave me a weird look.

“What? Am I not allowed to wear your precious hat?” He coughed and slowly shook his head.

“No, you definitely are. Anytime you want. Keep it.” He was looking at me again like he wanted to take my clothes off. Wearing his hat, huh? I was actually starting to enjoy teasing him. So I just grinned and headed toward the trail.

“Jesus,” I heard him mutter under his breath.

****

His legs were longer than mine, but he shortened his pace and didn’t make me strain to keep up with him.

“So, you have a degree in psychology,” he said. “Do you just go around diagnosing people?” I rolled my eyes, which he couldn’t see from behind my sunglasses.

“No. I wanted to work with kids, but it didn’t really work out. So now I’m another millennial with a college degree that I’m not using, and I will be paying for it until I’m dead and then probably after.” He chuckled.

“Tell me about it. I have a degree in business and was well into my master’s when I realized that I absolutely hated it. But then shit happened, so I guess it worked out the way it was supposed to.”

“Look at us, a pair of failures,” I said, holding my hand up for a high five. He slapped mine gently and didn’t remove it right away. I started blushing and his hand fell away.

“I don’t think you’re a failure. Not at all. You just didn’t succeed at one thing. You’re an amazing baker. And you survived living in New York and didn’t get run over by a cab. And you rock purple hair.” I laughed and reached down to pluck a flower.

“You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel with those compliments, Brooks. But I appreciate it. If you asked my mother, I’ve failed at everything.” I frowned, wishing I hadn’t brought her up.

“What did she want you to do?” Now he was leaning down and plucking flowers, gathering them in one hand. I didn’t know what I was going to do if he presented me with the bouquet.

“Ugh, get married. Have babies. Give her grandchildren. Be a lady. Whatever that is. Be a PTA and soccer mom. Drive a minivan and shit. You know, the very traditional idea. But I’ve never been really traditional.” I blew a strand of purple hair out of my eyes.

“Yeah, I can’t really see you being like that. I mean, even if you had kids, you wouldn’t be like that. You’d be the cool mom.” Now that made me laugh.

“I have no idea what that means. I’m definitely not ready for kids now, at any rate. Not for a while. A long while. I have shit to do first.” I didn’t want to be one of those people who resented their kids for taking away their youth. I wanted to have awesome stories to tell my kids about all the things I’d done before they were born. I was still restless. Settling down wasn’t what I wanted yet.

I wasn’t going to tell Brooks that Mom had him pegged as her future son-in-law. No, I didn’t want him to know anything about that.

“My mom just told me she wants me to be happy and I don’t even know what that looks like. How fucked up is that?” he said and I could hear the bitterness in his tone. Clearly, it was something he’d thought about a lot.

“I don’t think a lot of people in this world know what happy looks like. I mean, how many truly happy people do you know? And I think it’s also relative. Plus, no one is happy all the time. That’s not possible.” He nodded and we walked a little further. It was cool here, under the trees. The noise from the road had faded away and it was just the two of us. If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be walking in the woods with Brooks Benson I would have laughed until I couldn’t breathe. Yet, here I was.

“So what do you do with yourself when you’re not making pizzas and pestering me?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked.

“Oh, the usual.”

I waved my hand for him to elaborate.

“Maybe I’ll show you sometime.” I gave him a look.

“Oh my God, you have a low opinion of me, don’t you? It’s not bad or creepy or weird, okay?” I wasn’t sure if I trusted him on that, but I was definitely curious.

“And you bake, but what else?” he asked. Dammit. I kept forgetting he could turn around and ask me stuff too.

“Not much. Read, I guess.”

“What kind of books?” I thought about lying, but fuck that.

“Mostly romance. Some young adult. Sci-fi. Pretty much anything that has a good story.” He nodded and didn’t make any editorial comments. I was a little surprised. A lot of people gave me looks of derision when I said I read romance. What was wrong with romance? Fuckers.

“What was the last book you read?” He asked and I launched into a summary of the last YA I’d read and loved. He listened to me ramble and didn’t stop me or interrupt me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually listened to me, which was pretty sad when I thought about it. When had I become such a loner? I mean, I’d always tended toward being alone, but I’d really taken it to a whole other level in the past two years. Probably wasn’t healthy, my psychology brain told me.

“I could loan you my copy,” I said, just to hear his reaction.”

“Really? Sure, I’d love to read it,” he said without a hint of sarcasm or irony.

“You’d read a young adult romance?” I asked, totally taken aback. He shrugged.

“Why not?”

Well then.

****

We walked for what seemed like hours, just... talking. I discovered that Brooks Benson was not only smart, but he was kinda funny. I hated how much and how easily he made me laugh. I’d really made a huge mistake when I’d agreed to go to breakfast with him. Because there was no going back from this. We couldn’t go back to not being friendly. It just wasn’t possible.

We made it to the end of the trail and then turned around and looped back to his truck.

“We should have brought some water. I didn’t exactly plan this out.”

“Yeah, well, I should probably get home anyway. I only have a few hours of Mom-free time in the house and I want to take advantage of it.” Mostly to take a shower and read in peace.

“Yeah, I should get back to the store. Falyn can go a little stir crazy if she’s left alone for long enough. She doesn’t do well when she’s bored.” His sister was several years younger than me and I sort of remembered her from high school. The only Benson girl. She stuck out, especially since she and her twin were joined at the hip.

We got back to the truck and he took me back to the store and my car.

“Thanks for breakfast. And for the walk,” I said. Why was saying goodbye always so awkward? In person and on the phone. It always was.

“Yeah, I’ll see you on Tuesday night?” I nodded. I hated how much I was suddenly looking forward to Tuesday night.

“Bye, Remington,” he said with a wink before disappearing inside the store, the screen door slamming behind him so hard that I jumped.

“Bye,” I said to the empty air.

****

I got home and took a shower feeling very... confused. About Brooks, about what we’d discussed and about how I had somehow stopped hating him in only a few hours. Guess I wasn’t as good at holding a grudge as I initially thought. I sighed and slicked the shampoo through my hair, realizing that I needed to redo my purple soon. I’d have to order some bleach and dye. Mom was going to love me using the bathroom for that. Ugh. Why did everything I do have to be a battle with her? It was exhausting.

I decided that staying in my room for most of the night was my best plan of action, but that made me feel like I was punishing myself, so I ended up telling my parents I was going out and leaving the details vague.

I had no idea where I was headed, but I ended up down at the wharf and figured I might as well get a drink while I was there, so I headed down to the bar, which was pretty empty, thankfully. I said hello to the bartender (who I knew from school, of course, just like 90 percent of the other people in this stupid town). I really wanted a mojito, but I wasn’t even going to ask if they had mint behind the bar because they definitely didn’t, so I got a rum and Coke instead. A few of the other guys around me gave me some looks, but went back to their drinks once they’d had their fill. I made sure to put off peak Bitch Vibes so none of them talked to me.

“Remi Wright, haven’t seen you in ages,” a voice said behind me. I turned slowly and there was Levi Brewer. Ugh. I definitely did NOT want to talk to him.

“Yeah, you too,” I said, sipping my drink and not making eye contact with him.

“Well, ain’t that a shame. You look good. Really good.” I did not come here to be hit on.

“Look, I just came here for a drink. And for no one to talk to me. Just because a woman is alone, that doesn’t mean she wants to talk to you.” Was it a little much? Probably. But I didn’t care.

“Whoa, I was just saying hello. No need to make a thing out of it.” He held his hands up and backed away.

“Fucker,” I said under my breath.

“Am I allowed to talk to you?” another voice said behind me. I turned slowly.

“Where the hell did you come from?” I asked and Brooks pointed to where the bar curved around. He must have been sitting where I couldn’t see him from this vantage point.

“I guess. As long as you don’t try anything skeezy,” I said.

“Yeah, Levi isn’t really good with subtle. Or respectful,” Brooks said, taking the empty barstool next to me and waving for another Bud Light.

“Well, someone should teach him that women aren’t on this planet for his amusement.” Brooks snorted.

“I’m not sure he would listen. He’s got a pretty thick skull.” Figured.

“How was the rest of your day?” I asked, since it was probably polite.

“Fine. Same thing day after day. People around here like their routines.” Wasn’t that the truth? The bartender passed him his beer and he slid a few bucks in the tip jar before handing her a few bills.

“Yeah, but people are kind of like that everywhere. They don’t like surprises.” Brooks nodded and took a swig from his beer bottle.

“Do you like surprises?” he asked, turning to face me fully.

“Depends on the surprise,” I said.

“But isn’t that the very nature of a surprise? That you don’t know what it is beforehand?”

I sighed. “I can’t have surprise parameters?”

He laughed. “You can have whatever you want, Remington.”

Six

Brooks

“Are you stalking me?” she asked on Tuesday night when she came to bake. It was only natural that I’d run into Remi in town. But it actually started getting weird. I’d see her at the grocery store and the bank and our cars would pass when she was on the way to somewhere else.

I asked if she needed any help and this time she actually said that she did.

“I’m not trying to. It’s just what happens when you live in a small town.” She didn’t have recipes, just measured stuff out and tossed it in bowls and then it passed to me to mix. But only after she’d showed me how to do it properly. I now knew the difference between whisking and folding.

“Before long I’ll be your protégé,” I said as she checked the consistency of cupcake batter.

“Yeah, no. I’m not looking to take on any partners. I need all of the cash I can get so I can get out of here.” I’d assumed as much, but she’d never said it out loud.

“And where would you go? Back to New York?” She shuddered.

“No. I’m not sure yet. Away from here. That’s all I know.” I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge when she talked about leaving. Like I was going to miss her. I couldn’t be that attached yet; that was nuts.

“Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?” she asked as she carefully measured out batter to go in each cupcake paper.

I opened my mouth to answer and then realized I had no idea. Even though I’d gone away to college, I’d still been in Maine. I’d never lived outside of the state and had rarely gone on trips. The only time I’d been out of the country had been to Canada in high school and I didn’t think that really counted because Maine was basically South Canada.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

She looked up. “You don’t know?”

“No. I guess... I guess I’d have to think about it.” She made a little sound like “huh” and finished with the cupcakes. I carried them to the oven and put them in as she double-checked the temperature and set the timer.

“Well, you think about it and let me know,” she said, dusting off her hands. I liked these moments with her. She let herself go when she had a spoon in her hand. This was her art, and she didn’t care if her hair was a mess or there was frosting on her face. She also laughed easier here and her shoulders weren’t as tense.

I realized I was staring at her and quickly looked away.

“I think I want to live in another country at some point in my life,” she said as she started mixing ingredients for frosting.

“Yeah, that would be amazing.” I couldn’t imagine how my parents would handle having me so far away. None of their children had really left the nest. Not even Avery. My money was on Grey, but he was still under their roof for the time being.

“I’d want to go somewhere I didn’t know the language at all. Just throw myself into it.” That was brave.

I could definitely see her doing that. Remi didn’t impress me as the kind of person who backed away from a challenge.

“You should do that. If it’s what you want.” She nodded.

“I have no idea what I want right now. I’m so jealous of those people who’ve had their lives mapped out since they were five and then are able to make it happen. I’ve always been all over the place.” I leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, well, I think a lot of people get trapped on a path that might not be right for them. Things change. Dreams change. My brother Dasen wanted to do a whole lot of things, but then he had a daughter and now he has to think about her first, but he doesn’t mind. His life changed, but he changed with it.” She thought about that.

“You’re a lot smarter and more eloquent than I thought.”

I made a shocked sound and put my hand over my heart. “Ouch. So you thought I was a big dumb idiot?” She smirked.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I picked up a spoon still covered in cupcake batter.

“I swear to God, if you throw that at me, I will never speak to you again.” She was stubborn as hell, so I didn’t doubt it. I’d made up too much ground with her to fuck things up now. So I just slowly licked the spoon. Her eye widened and she stopped messing with the frosting.

Then she blinked.

“You’re going to get salmonella and you’re only going to have yourself to blame.” I shrugged.

“I’ve got an iron stomach. I think I can handle it.”

We washed the dishes together this time.

I tried not to think about how many times our hands kept colliding under the soapy water.

“Stop crowding me,” she said, bumping her hip against my leg.

I leaned over a little bit and sort of pushed her out of the way.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I in your way?” She smacked a soapy hand against my shoulder.

“You are going to pay for that,” I said, scooping up some froth in my hands.

“Don’t you dare, Brooks Benson,” she said, putting her hands up to defend herself. Remi darted away from me, but my legs were longer. I caught her and rubbed the soap on the top of her head.

“You bastard!” But she was laughing as she dived back toward the sink and grabbed the spray nozzle. I was instantly soaked as I tried to wrestle it away from her.

We both ended up drenched and on the floor, laughing our asses off.

“I hate you,” she said, pulling at her wet shirt. It was clinging in all the right places and I was trying to be a gentleman and not notice too much.

“No you don’t. Or at least not anymore?” She sighed and pushed her wet hair out of her eyes.

“No. Not anymore. And I’m mad at you for it.”

I laughed.

“I’m sorry?”

She turned to look at me, something new sparkling in her eyes.

“No, you’re not sorry at all.” We locked eyes and I wondered if she was actually going to lean over and kiss me. But then she seemed to come to her senses and glanced away again.

“We should get cleaned up and go home. My mom is going to wonder what the hell happened to me. Lucky I keep a change of clothes in my trunk for just this kind of emergency.” She grinned at me and used the lip of the sink to pull herself up. I got up too and started mopping up the water and soap we’d gotten everywhere while she went and changed.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you sooner rather than later,” she said, combing her hair with her fingers and then pulling it back in a bun.

“Bye, Remington,” I said. I kind of loved her name. It was unique. Like her.

“Bye, Brooks,” she said, pushing herself away from the counter and slowly walking out.

I let out a long breath. What was this girl doing to me?

****

Dasen came by the store the next day with Pearl. It was his day to watch her and he had a huge grin on his face when he brought her in.

“Book! Book!” she chanted, holding her hands out.

“She only likes you better because you always give her things,” Dasen said, passing her over. She looked more like her mother than Dasen, with her blonde ringlets and bright green eyes. She was going to be a stunner when she was older. But she had Dasen’s chin and when she smiled she looked just like him.

“Hey, sweet girl,” I said, bouncing her up and down as she squealed.

“What are you doing today?” I asked Dasen.

“Taking her to the beach. I want her to be able to swim before she turns three.” Pearl placed a sloppy kiss on my cheek and then cackled in my ear.

“You little flirt,” I said, tickling her belly until she screeched.

“I’m going to court in a few weeks to see if we can work out a better custody agreement.” He gave me a grim smile. Dasen and Pearl’s mom, Amber, hadn’t been on the best of terms even before Pearl was born. But now that Amber had something Dasen wanted, she liked to use Pearl as a bargaining chip. He wanted to get full custody, but the chances of that happening weren’t good, so he just kept trying to get more time. He worked odd hours, so there were often days when he was free to watch her when Amber was working, but she didn’t want to let him have Pearl. It was a shitty situation and I just felt so bad for little Pearl, stuck in the middle.

“You gonna go swimming with Daddy?” I asked her and she nodded very seriously before holding my face with her two little chubby hands.

I gave her a kiss and she giggled before I passed her back to Dasen.

“Well, if you need anything, let me know.” He nodded as he set Pearl on his shoulders and she gripped onto his baseball cap.

“Thanks. I just wish we could settle this for her sake, but it’s not looking like that’s going to happen anytime soon.” Pearl waved goodbye and blew me kisses as they left. I wished I could go with them, but I had to stay at the store. It had become my entire life.

And then there was Remi. She blew in like a tornado and shook everything up. I looked forward to seeing her everywhere and had even developed a double-take reflex when I saw the color purple because it might be her hair. It was becoming a real problem.

Two weeks after she started baking her stuff at the store, she texted me and asked if she could come in and use the sink on a non-baking night. I had no idea what she needed it for, but I agreed. Honestly, if she asked me to reach into my body and rip out my kidney, I would have done it before she could say “please.”

She came in just as I was getting ready to close, carrying a bag full of stuff.

“Okay, you have to tell me what you’re doing,” I asked as I followed her back to the sink.

“Dying my hair,” she said, as if that was a totally normal thing she did here all the time. I watched as she set out a bunch of things and then slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. I’d noticed that her regular brown was starting to show at the top of her head and the purple color wasn’t as vibrant, but I didn’t know she had to go through this whole process to fix it.

“Do you need a hand?” She looked at all the bottles and tools and then up at me.

“Kind of, yeah.” She tossed me a set of gloves and then explained that in order to get the color to stick, she had bleach out her roots and then reapply the color.

“Sounds like a lot of work,” I said.

“It is.” She put half of her hair up and told me how to brush on the bleach. I was scared I was going to do it wrong, but she told me she’d be fine.

“But totally worth it, right?” I said as I started to brush on the bleach.

“Exactly.”

I did the back of her head and then moved around to the front.

“Is it burning?” I asked. The smell was making my eyes water a little so I had no idea what it was doing on her scalp.

“Little bit. It’s more itchy. Nothing I can’t handle. I do this all the time.” I finished the first layer and afterward, the top, and then she set a timer. The kitchen reeked from the bleach, but I wasn’t complaining as she mixed up the purple dye in a little bowl with another brush.

“I could do your hair,” she said, looking up at me.

“Probably not purple. That would look weird. Like we were a couple.” She looked down into the bowl.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But we could do it blue or silver or green or something.” I wasn’t sure about that. I’d never dyed my hair before. Never had the urge.

But, once again, I’d let Remi do whatever she wanted to me. Hell, she could do it pink and yellow if she wanted and I’d tell her I loved it.

“Maybe we could do like, one streak,” I said and she raised her eyebrows.

“You’d really let me do that?” I nodded.

“Yeah. I trust you.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it.

I cleared up some of the dying supplies and threw them in the trash as we waited for the bleach to do its thing.

“We might have to do that,” she said and the timer dinged. I helped her over to the sink and rinsed out the bleach then washed her hair. She closed her eyes as I worked the shampoo into her scalp.

“That feels really good,” she said with a sigh.

I massaged a little more and then rinsed the rest of the shampoo out. She dried it with a hairdryer she’d brought and then it was time for the dye. Her roots were nearly white and it was strange to see her with such light hair.

“Stop looking at my head, I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, I’m trying to picture you as a blonde. It’s weird.” She elbowed me in the stomach.

“I was blonde for a hot second and then I realized it didn’t work for me so I dyed it back.”

“Yeah, I don’t see it. But you’d be gorgeous no matter what color your hair was.” She snorted.

“Nice line, Brooks.”

“It’s true,” I said as I brushed the deep purple dye on her hair, making sure to soak every strand. Her head looked so strange when I was done and we laughed about it together. Her phone vibrated and she looked at the screen.

“Ugh, it’s my mom asking where I am. The irony is that if she knew I was here with you, she’d be thrilled.” I gave her a look. This was the first I was hearing about her mom wanting us to spend time together.

“And why is that?” I asked.

She ducked her head and hid a smile.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Let me guess, she wants to play matchmaker? My mom said as much.” She looked up in shock.

“Really? Your mom would want you to go out with me?”

“Why not?”

She gave me a look as if I was being dumb on purpose.

“This?” she said, pointing to her purpled head.

“Remind me to tell you about the time that Callan decided to use peroxide to bleach the shit out of his hair one summer. And then the time Dasen came home with a pierced tongue. And the time that Ezra and Falyn tried to get tattoos while they were underage.” My siblings had done a whole lot worse than dye their hair purple.

She laughed.

“Yeah, I guess your mom probably isn’t surprised by much anymore, what with having seven of you.”

“Exactly. My mom doesn’t judge people based on whether or not they have purple hair.” Remi pursed her lips and then the timer went off. Time to rinse the dye out. I helped her with that, which was a chore because by the time we were done the dye was everywhere in the sink.

“It looks like we murdered someone who bled purple blood,” I said.

“A purple people eater,” she said and I burst out laughing.

I cleaned the sink while she dried her hair with the hairdryer again. The purple was so bright it was startling. But it looked damn good on her.

“Thanks for the help. You’re learning all kinds of things from me lately.” True. Baking. Hair dyeing.

I stepped close to her as she packed up the rest of the dye supplies.

“Maybe someday you’ll learn something from me,” I said and she looked up at me.

“Maybe, Brooks Benson. Maybe.”

Remi

Mom had a hissy fit when I got home with my hair re-purpled. I didn’t tell her Brooks was involved, but she was probably going to find out anyway. Where else would I have gone to do it?

It wasn’t like I had a friend I could go and see. A friend who was a girl, anyway. Sad? Probably. Whatever. I wasn’t a people person. Or, at least, I wasn’t an idiot person.

“Look at it,” Mom said to Dad and I waited for him to inevitably take her side.

“I think it looks lovely on her,” he said. Both mine and my mom’s mouths dropped open.

“Dale, you can’t be serious,” Mom said.

“I am,” Dad said, crossing his arms. “I think she looks beautiful with purple hair. I think she looks beautiful no matter what.” His voice shook just a tiny bit. He never stood up to Mom. I mean, I couldn’t remember it happening. Ever.

“Oh, I can’t deal with either of you right now,” Mom said, stomping off to her and Dad’s bedroom.

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Thanks, Dad.” He held his arms out and then gave me a big squishy hug.

“You’re welcome, Rem. I’m sorry I don’t stand up for you more often,” he whispered in my ear.

I wished he did too. But better late than never?

****

I started spending more and more time with Brooks. I couldn’t help it. I liked having someone interesting and smart to talk to about anything. He might not read as much as I did, but when I talked about books, he listened and even asked to borrow a few so we could discuss them. And then actually read them. It was awesome. He was also an excellent baking student and I was a little pissed how easily he picked up cupcake decorating. I actually put him to work making flowers for me because he was so good at it. With his help, I could make more things than ever and I actually started turning a profit. Slowly but surely, I was saving a little bit of money after paying my parents rent. I figured it was only fair to give them some money for heat and water, etc. since I was living there and using the resources.

I still had no idea where I wanted to live.

“Paris,” Brooks said one night while we were waiting for a batch of chocolate cheesecake caramel cupcakes to finish baking.

“Hm?” I said. I’d been busy, ah, cleaning up. And not staring at his arms. It got hot back in the kitchen so he often just wore an undershirt.

“I thought about where I’d want to live if I could and I’d pick Paris. I know that’s such a cliché, but I don’t care.” That definitely wasn’t the city I would have picked for him. Not at all.

“Why Paris?” I asked.

He paused for a second.

“So I could visit the Louvre whenever I wanted. And have croissants.” Huh. Also not what I would have said.

“Plus the history and the language and, yeah. Paris.”

“The Louvre? So you’d want to see the art.” He nodded. Things started clicking for me.

“Oh, that’s it. That’s your thing. Art.”

“Ding, ding, ding,” he said softly.

“You asshole, no wonder you’re better at making frosting flowers. Dick.” I shoved him with my shoulder and he smiled, just a little. A shy boy-next-door smile. The kind of smile that made my heart beat a little faster.

“So, you’re an artist. That makes a lot of sense. Are you any good?” He laughed once.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Okay, then can I judge for myself?” I knew what a big deal it would be for him to agree to show me something that was clearly so personal for him.

“Sometime,” he said, easing away from me. I’d never seen him so cagey before.

“Well, I’m guessing you’re good. Why didn’t you study that in school?” He made an exasperated noise.

“Do we have to talk about this?” I gave him a look.

“You were the one who brought up Paris and the Louvre and shit. And I’m not going to judge you or anything. I hope you know me well enough by now to know I wouldn’t do that.

Brooks sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s just... it’s a personal thing for me, you know? Call me sensitive, I don’t even care.”

“Why do you think I don’t want to bake with my mom in the kitchen? She criticizes everything I do then tells me how to do it better and it drives me fucking nuts. So I get it. I get protecting the thing you love to do from other people. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. No pressure, okay?” He nodded and the timer dinged. Very timely.

“I don’t want to hate it,” he said as I set the tray of cupcakes on a rack to cool.

“Hate what? Art?”

“I thought if I did it as a career, with money attached, that I’d hate it. Resent it. Ruin it and not want to do it anymore and then what? What the fuck would I have left?” He made a hell of a lot of sense.

“But if you never try, you’ll never know,” I said, turning to face him and crossing my arms before I continued.

“I bake for money and I don’t hate it. Sure, it’s a lot of work, because it IS work now, but I wouldn’t work as hard at something I didn’t love. I put everything into it so I don’t fail. Failing is not an option for me now.” I hadn’t said so out loud before, but that was all true. I wasn’t going to fail at this. I wouldn’t let myself. No matter what happened, I was going to succeed at this.

“I know you’re right. But I don’t know. I have this,” he said, waving his arm around to indicate the store.

“I can’t leave it.” I wasn’t going to argue with him on that because I really didn’t know the entirety of his family situation.

“Why not do it on the side and see what happens? Or not. Up to you.” I could see him fighting a battle in his head. It was hard to watch and I had the feeling if his parents knew the extent to which he was struggling, they wouldn’t want him holding himself back. Because he wasn’t happy. Neither of us were. But we might be able to get there, if we followed what we really wanted to do. Chased our bliss, or some crap like that. It sounded corny, but I was really starting to believe that. I was up most nights thinking of new recipes to try and different ways to tweak them and then in the morning I couldn’t wait to get up and try. I wasn’t dreading the days anymore. I didn’t dread my work. I wasn’t even that annoyed at my mom most of the time.

Things were slowly looking up and I wanted that for him too. I wanted both of us to feel like people with purpose, and not like we were just floating around, waiting for something to happen.

“Think about it,” I said, brushing past him. He inhaled sharply and I got a hint of his cologne. He always smelled so good.

“Thanks. You always listen to me bitch and don’t complain.” I shrugged one shoulder.

“You do the same for me. That’s how friendship works.” We hadn’t talked about being friends for a while. I think he was waiting for me to bring it up again.

“Friends?” he asked and he looked so sweet and hopeful I thought I was going to die.

“Friends,” I said with certainty. “Unless you turn into an asshole. Then the deal is off.” I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him.

“You got it, friend.”

The way he said it made my stomach flutter.

Seven

Brooks

Dasen had to fill in for someone at work and called me late that night, desperate for someone to watch Pearl on short notice. “I’d drop her off at Mom and Dad’s, but I always feel like I’m imposing and—”

I cut him off.

“It’s no big deal. I’d love to have a day with her. I’ll take her to the beach. It’s still warm enough out.” Pearl had taken to the ocean like, well, a mermaid. She’d spend the entire day splashing in the water and playing in the sand and when I finally handed her off to Dasen she’d be so tired she’d fall right to sleep. So far she was my only niece, so she was spoiled, but she deserved it.

“Thank you so much. I can drop her off at the store in the morning. I know you have to open.” I did, but then Ezra was coming in. Required Benson Variety duty.

“No worries. Bring her by whenever you need and just text me when you want her back.” He thanked me again and I texted Ezra to let him know he was gonna be on his own.

I had just hit Send when I got a text from Remi. It was a picture of her making a goofy face. From what I could tell, she was in bed.

I really shouldn’t think about Remi in bed.

I shook my head and made a stupid face and texted it back.

Before I could stop myself, I added a message.

Do you want to go to the beach with me tomorrow? I’m bringing my niece.

She responded quicker than I thought she would.

Yeah, sure. I don’t remember the last time I went to the beach. And it’s only a few minutes away from my house.

I’d really thought she would say no. I was excited she’d said yes.

See you at the store at nine?

Deal.

****

The next morning, Remi showed up wearing tattered jeans, flip-flops, and a t-shirt with the words “I’m sorry I’m late; I didn’t want to come” on it. And her sunglasses, of course.

Fucking cute.

“I brought extra sunblock too, since I burn like crazy,” she said, taking the bottle out of her bag and showing it to me. I gave her a thumbs up and went to grab some cold sodas from the case to put in the cooler I was going to bring with us.

Dasen came in, carrying a wailing Pearl.

“Sorry, sorry. She didn’t want to cooperate this morning.” I took Pearl from him so he could transfer the car seat to my truck.

Pearl squirmed to be let down, and raced right over to Remi, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Poo pool,” Pearl said, pointing up. Remi leaned down.

“Do you like my hair?” she said. Pearl nodded and reached out to touch it.

“Be gentle,” I said, coming over to monitor the interaction.

“Booful,” Pearl said, softly brushing Remi’s hair with her chubby fingers.

“Well, thank you very much,” Remi said, giving me a wink.

“This is my friend Remi. She’s gonna come with us to the beach. Is that okay, Pearl?” Pearl bit her lip and nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you. Can I get a high five?” Remi asked and Pearl giggled before slapping her small hand against Remi’s.

“Good deal, girlfriend.”

Dasen came back in and I introduced him to Remi just before he shoved Pearl’s backpack at me and rushed out the door.

“He looks so much like you,” she said as I scooped Pearl up.

“We get that a lot,” I said as we headed out to the truck.

****

While I carried Pearl and her bag and Remi hauled her own bag and the cooler (which had wheels on the bottom), I wondered if people thought we were a family. Me, my wife and our daughter out for a day of sun. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I snuck a look at Remi, but she was too busy making faces at a giggling Pearl to notice.

The beach was pretty quiet so we were able to find a good spot of white sand to set up on. Remi and I spread out the blanket and then covered Pearl in sunblock. She wasn’t happy with either of us about that.

But once we were all sunblocked, we took Pearl down to the water. She screeched in glee and toddled ahead of me.

“Damn, she’s fast for a little thing,” Remi said as she stripped off her top and then shimmied out of her jeans. I was stopped dead by the sight of her in a black and white striped one-piece that looked like one of those suits from the ‘40s or something. Not that I could look too long because I had to chase after Pearl. Once I caught her, I took off my shirt and stripped down to my trunks.

Remi put her hair up in a bun on top of her head and I could not stop staring. She looked like a pinup. Fucking hell.

“It’s going to be cold as f—” Remi started to say and then remembered there were sensitive ears with us.

“It’s going to be cold,” she amended, her face a little red.

“Don’t worry. She’s probably heard her share of four letter words. It’s kind of inevitable.” We brought Pearl to the edge of the water and I set her down so she could dip her tiny toes in the water.

She screamed as the waves grabbed at her toes and together we waded in, slowly, letting the water numb us from the bottom up.

I kept Pearl in my arms as I waded out farther. She slapped at the waves while Remi followed behind.

“This is cold, but I don’t even care,” Remi said, stretching her arms out and swimming a few strokes.

“Swim! Swim!” Pearl cried, reaching for Remi.

“Don’t worry, she’s coming back,” I said as Remi turned and then came toward us, singing the Jaws theme.

She dove under and tickled Pearl’s toes, which made Pearl laugh one of those joyous baby laughs that was contagious. Remi popped up again and Pearl reached for her.

“Can she swim?” Remi asked.

“Yeah.” I put my hand under Pearl’s chest and tilted her forward so she was horizontal in the water. She kicked her little legs and paddled her arms and I let her go, but kept my hands close as she scooted toward Remi.

“Wow, look at you go, little fish!” Remi said, picking Pearl out of the water and tossing her in the air.

“Fiss, fiss!”

The three of us stayed in the water until Pearl told me she was hungry. We got out and toweled off and I broke out the snacks.

“She’s so cute I can’t even stand it,” Remi said as Pearl scrunched up her face, posing for pictures that I was sending Dasen on my phone.

“I know. Sometimes it’s physically painful,” I said. “I cried like hell when she was born. Just absolutely lost it in the hospital when I held her the first time.” I hadn’t even cared. I’d had no idea how much holding that little girl was going to rock my life.

“That’s painfully sweet, you know that? Are you trying to get me to want you?” she asked. I turned toward her and she just lifted her sunglasses, winked and dropped them back down.

Was everything she did designed to get me to want her?

“Well, that wasn’t my initial intent, but it if was a side effect, I wouldn’t be upset.” She snorted and crunched a pretzel stick between her teeth.

****

When Pearl finally got tired, I put up a little canopy so she could rest under the shade. While she slept, Remi pulled out a book and started reading. I let her go ahead and closed my eyes for a few minutes, grateful that I was here with these two girls.

Everything drifted away except the sound of the waves against the shore, the seagulls and the scrape of the book’s pages as Remi turned them.

It was so peaceful and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this. Everything in my head quieted, and it was like I was painting or drawing. I wasn’t sure if it was the ocean, or the day off, or the girl sitting next to me reading through her heart-shaped sunglasses.

I cracked my eyes open and glanced over at her.

“I can feel you staring at me,” she said, not looking up from her book.

“I’m not staring. I was just...” I trailed off.

“Staring,” she said, turning a page.

I put both hands up.

“Guilty.”

“You’re just mad I’m reading and ignoring you,” she said.

“No. Not at all. I don’t need you to amuse me.” She laughed a little and then closed her book.

“Then what do you need me to do?” My mouth went dry. Was she asking what I thought she was asking?

She burst out laughing.

“Oh, that was totally worth the look on your face. You’re so easy.” She smacked my shoulder with her book.

“Hey, no violence in front of Pearl.”

“She’s asleep,” Remi said.

“Still.”

She sighed and lay back.

“I can’t remember the last time I actually did something like this. At least not with another person.” I turned my head and we looked at each other.

“Me neither. What losers.” I winked at her.

“Shut up.”

There was a second of silence and then I said the words I’d been holding in all day.

“Do you want to come have dinner at my house? I’d like to show you something.” Her mouth opened in shock. Nice.

“Dinner at your house with your parents and everything?” I nodded.

“I mean, just me, my parents and my little brother, Greyson. Or he might not be there because he’s with friends. Not the whole family. I wouldn’t put you through that, trust me.” My brothers would make my life miserable if I brought Remi to Sunday dinner with everyone. She would never talk to me again if I subjected her to that torture.

“Oh, um, I guess? My curiosity is overpowering my fear of eating dinner with your parents.”

Remi

Normally I would have said “hell no” but I was really interested to know what he had to show me. And the sun was making me stupid. Or something. Maybe it was Pearl. She was so cute it should be illegal.

And watching Brooks with her? Talk about an ovary explosion. I’d never really understood the whole “dudes with kids” thing, but I was definitely getting it now.

We packed up the still-sleepy Pearl and then went back to the store so Dasen could pick her up. He looked exhausted, but when he saw his sleeping daughter, his face lit up.

“How was she?” he asked as Brooks carefully took her out of the car seat so they could put it back in Dasen’s car.

“Perfect as always,” Brooks said, kissing her forehead. I wanted to tell him to stop because I couldn’t take it. Instead I just looked away and pretended to be super interested in the pavement of the parking lot.

“That’s a lie, but thanks for doing this. I owe you one,” Dasen said with a sigh.

“You don’t owe me anything. Family comes first.” Dasen gripped Brooks’ shoulder and then waved goodbye.

Just the two of us now.

“So...” I said, drawing the word out. “I should probably go and shower off all the sunblock and sand and make myself presentable for your parents.” I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to go.

“You can, if you want to. We’re very ‘come as you are’ in the Benson house.” Judging by the way he dressed so casually, I figured that was true, but still. I wanted to make a good impression if I could.

“Still,” I said and he nodded, swinging his keys around one finger.

“So, how about I pick you up at six? Is that okay? Or you could meet me at the house. That’s fine too.” I didn’t have to ask where it was. I already knew. He knew where I lived too. No hiding in Hope Harbor.

“Okay,” I said after taking a breath. I could just wait on the porch, then book it when he got there so he wouldn’t have to deal with talking to my parents. Yeah, that was a good plan.

****

As plans almost always do, mine did not go, well, according to plan. I rushed back to my house and headed straight for the shower, then rushed to dry my hair and pick out something to wear. I finally settled on a maxi dress that had straps so I wouldn’t spend the entire night hauling it up.

“Where are you going?” Mom asked.

I froze as I was putting on my lipstick.

“Ummm...” I said, fumbling for an excuse. “Out?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

“With who?”

“Whom,” I said, taking one last check in the mirror.

“What?” she said, following me.

“Whom. With whom.”

Mom shook her head and just kept following me.

“Are you going out with Brooks?” There was no way to lie my way out of this. She knew I had no friends. I really needed to get some ASAP.

“Maybe.” I sat on the wooden swing and she leaned against the house.

“Is this getting serious?”

I sighed.

“Mom, I’m not dating him. We’re just friends. I know it seems impossible for a girl and a guy to be friends, but that’s what we’re doing. End of story.” I pulled my phone out to check the time. He needed to get here like five minutes ago.

“Mmmhmmmm,” she said with an annoying smile. Whatever. Brooks pulled in at that moment, and I got up off the swing like my ass was on fire.

“Bye!” I threw over my shoulder. I leaped into Brooks’ truck before he could even get out.

“Go, go, go!” I yelled, slamming my hands on the dashboard.

“What the fuck, Remi?” he said, shifting into Reverse and waving to my mom before he backed up.

“I just didn’t want you to have to talk to my parents,” I said looking out the back window to see Mom still standing on the porch with a smug smile. I closed my eyes and tried to block it out before I turned back around.

“I think I can handle your parents, Remington. I mean, I’ve met them before. Not like this, but they don’t scare me.” Oh, sweet, naïve Brooks.

“My mom would eat you alive,” I said, grinning at him. He raised one dark eyebrow.

“You don’t mean literally, right?” It took me a second and then he grinned that cute boyish grin.

“You sicko,” I said, shoving his shoulder. He snickered and headed down the main road in Hope Harbor toward his parents’ house as butterflies started mating and multiplying in my stomach.

Oh, shit.

****

By the time we got to the house, I was freaking out a little. To distract myself, I looked at Brooks out of the corner of my eye. He had on a nice blue shirt that complimented his eyes and a pair of khakis that had clearly never been worn because they still had the creases from when they’d come from the store.

He looked good, I had to admit. Really good.

We pulled in the driveway and his truck joined another and a Toyota Camry. The house was big, white, and old. A little shabby, but there were gardens and flower baskets hanging on the porch, and a lawnmower leaning up against the side of the house. It was a house that people lived in, as opposed to a showplace that you’d put in a magazine.

I had never been here, but I’d driven by so many times that I felt like I had.

Brooks came over and opened my door for me, holding his hand out to help me down. It was a long way to the ground for my little legs.

“Thank you,” I said, fiddling with my dress.

“Oh, just in case I forget to say it later? You look really beautiful tonight.” I could feel my cheeks flame, so I ducked my head.

“Thank you,” I repeated, as we walked up the porch to the front door. “You look really good too. I didn’t know you had anything other than jeans.” I pointed to the khakis and he looked down.

“Oh, yeah. Figured I should spruce up. Mom was thrilled. I’m probably going to have to wear them more often now. I’m blaming you.” He winked at me as he opened the front door and held it for me.

****

Brooks looked so much like his dad, but had his mom’s beautiful eyes. She looked older and little more frail than when I’d seen her last, but she gave me a big hug and told me she was happy to see me.

“You are all grown up and everything,” she said, brushing a hand through my hair before she let me go. “I love the hair.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And thank you for inviting me over.” She waved me off and headed back into the kitchen as Brooks and I walked into the cozy and cluttered living room.

His house was exactly like I thought it would be. Filled with memories and pictures and knick-knacks and love. Chaotic and cozy at the same time.

“Remi, it’s nice to see you,” Ben Brooks got up from the couch and shook my hand. Not too limp, not too firm. Just right.

“Nice to see you, too,” I said. Should I call him “sir”? Nah, that was too formal. And too date-like. I didn’t want to treat this like a date, because it wasn’t.

At all.

Not even close.

Brooks and I sat down in the living room and Ben asked me what I’d been up to. I shared a look with Brooks and then figured I didn’t have anything to lose. I didn’t have to impress them because they were going to find out the truth, or already knew it.

“Went to college. Couldn’t find a job. Tried to stick it out in New York. Didn’t work out. Came home. You know, same old, same old.” He smiled and chuckled.

“Isn’t that always the way?”

I sighed.

“For some.”

Lilly came back in, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“Brooks, can you set the table? Grey’s off with friends, so it’s just the four of us.” I was a little relieved, to be honest, and I was thrilled the rest of the brothers weren’t here. They were definitely a handful when they were younger, and I wasn’t sure how much Benson I could take at one time.

“I’ll help,” I said, starting to get up, but Brooks motioned for me to stay sitting. Great. Time for awkward chatting with Dad.

“Brooks has brought home some of your treats and I must say, you are very talented, young lady. I thought I was going to go into a sugar coma.” He smiled and I could feel him assessing me.

“Thank you. That means a lot.” I smiled back and hoped he didn’t find me wanting. Maybe I should have tried to impress him more. Too late now. He’d already made up his mind about me, perhaps years ago.

“Must be hard to come back after having so much independence,” he said, leaning against the back of the couch.

I shrugged. That probably wasn’t a good enough answer.

“I was lucky my parents welcomed me back with open arms.” Literally.

He nodded, but his eyes narrowed just a tiny bit. He was definitely seeing beyond the exterior I was putting on. I squirmed a little bit. Brooks came back in and I breathed a sigh of relief.

He leaned down and held out his arm as if to escort me. There was mischief in his eyes and my heart thumped an extra beat.

Shit.

Eight

Brooks

I couldn’t stop watching her. The way she held her fork, the way she laughed at my dad’s stupid jokes. The smiles she shared with my mom. It was like she was supposed to be here. Like she fit.

That realization hit me like an 18 wheeler and I tried to shove it aside and focus on my steak and potatoes and asparagus.

But it kept pounding in my chest and running through my head. I cared way more about Remi than I was willing to admit, even to myself.

After slices of coconut cake that Remi praised and Mom refused to take compliments for, I took the dishes to the sink and Mom shoved me back toward Remi.

“Show her your art,” she whispered. “I’ve got this.” Since that was my plan, I went ahead and walked back into the dining room. Remi was sitting and talking with Dad. I jerked my chin toward the stairs.

She excused herself and got up. Fuck, I loved the way that dress moved. Like it was designed solely to make her body look incredible and also make me think of how it would look crumpled on the floor.

“So, I’m very anxious to see what you have to show me,” she said as I led her to the bottom of the stairs. “It better not be your dick.” The last part she whispered.

“It’s not. It’s this,” I said, motioning to the frames crammed on the wall. Mom never worried about “cluttering.” She displayed every damn thing I’d ever made.

“I was going to ask who did all the art and I think I have my answer. You?” she asked, pointing to me. I nodded slowly and watched as she moved closer to examine the pieces. All of these were done in charcoal with slashing strokes. I was kinda angry for a while there, but who wasn’t when they were a teenager? None of it was bad, per se. Just... full of angst.

“And you did everything else that I saw?” I nodded again.

“Come on.” I stepped around her and led the way up the stairs to my room. I’d cleaned the hell out of it (as much as I could) before she came, but the art corner was still a mess. I figured that was okay.

“So, yeah. This is my room. And this is my thing,” I said, waving to indicate the canvasses and supplies and sketchpads.

“May I?” she asked. I agreed and she slowly walked toward the largest of the canvases. I had them stacked by size so the biggest ones were together and then the medium ones, and then the smallest.

She flipped through them and looked at me with astonishment.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re really fucking talented. Holy shit, Brooks.” She shook her head slowly and went back to flipping and then looked through each and every canvas. I sat down on the edge of my bed and let her. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to explain to her, or break her concentration. She was so absorbed and I kept seeing her smiling, or her brows drawing together in concentration.

She was so goddamn beautiful. I wanted to paint her like that. Looking at my paintings. I’d never been into photography, but I’d make an exception right now. I wanted to immortalize this moment when the warm sunlight streamed in through the window and lit up her hair.

So. Beautiful.

She finally reached the last one and slowly pivoted around to face me.

“Wow,” she said. “Seriously wow. This kicks the pants off of making good cupcakes. You’re... like really good. It’s kind of freaking me out right now. This shit should be hanging in museums.” I actually felt my face get red from the praise. People had flattered me before, but coming from her it meant so much more.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice shaking a little.

“Like, holy shit, Brooks.” She walked over and sat down next to me.

“Why aren’t you doing this all the time?” I lifted one shoulder.

“I told you. I didn’t want to make it into a job and ruin it.” She opened her mouth to respond, closed it and looked back at the canvasses.

“Seems a shame to have a gift like that and not share it. And I don’t mean that you owe it to anyone or the world or whatever. I can tell this makes you happy. That this is what you want. Just sitting here, I can feel it. And if you’re not going to devote your life to the one thing that makes you feel that way, then what’s the point?”

Well. I didn’t have a good answer for that.

“It’s complicated.” It was complicated by the store, and my parents and so many other things.

“Bullshit,” she said, turning to face me fully, her eyes snapping with fire.

“You’re only making excuses. I know you want to do it. I can feel it, sitting here. Your hands are begging you to go over to those brushes.” I looked down and saw that my hands were twitching a little. I closed them into fists.

“You don’t know,” I said.

“Fine. Whatever. But if you saw someone as talented as you not doing what they wanted to do, you’d be pissed too.” She crossed her arms. Shit. She was actually mad.

“I’m sorry?” I said and she got up and started pacing the room.

“I want you to do this. At least once a day. I don’t care if you actually make anything. But I want you to set aside time for this.” Was... was she giving me a homework assignment?

“Uh, okay?” I was too stunned to say anything else. Where did this girl come from?

“Damn right,” she said, pointing at me. “And I’m going to kiss you now.”

The fuck? I had no time to react before she crossed the room, grabbed my face and kissed me.

It hit me like a bolt of lightning and I almost pulled back from shock. But she wouldn’t let me move. It only took another fraction of a second for me to inhale, take in her scent, before my mouth got its act together.

She slowed down a little and I let myself taste her, feel the velvet of her mouth. It was good. So, so good. She kissed like it was her main mission in life.

Her tongue teased my lips and I opened up to let her in. Remi liked to be in control and I was happy to let her. She eased us back until she was in my lap. My hands hiked up her dress so she could straddle me. I was hard as fuck.

Our tongues went back and forth and I felt like I was going to die from all the sensations. She made this little moaning sound and I nearly fucking lost it.

I groaned and she pulled back.

“I’m not fucking you here with your parents downstairs. I’m really loud and I don’t want them to think I’m a hussy.” This girl kept knocking me on my ass.

Remi

I didn’t intend to go there and want to fuck him. It just kind of... happened. Whatever. It was the damn art. Part of me was convinced that he brought me up here to seduce me with it because how could I not? His paintings and drawings were incredible. I wasn’t exaggerating. They were so... breathtaking. Like he ripped his heart out of his chest and smeared it everywhere. He didn’t hold back at all. He took the ugly things and the pretty things and put them all out there. It took a special person who wasn’t afraid to do that. I could feel his fearlessness in the very pit of my soul.

It took everything in me to unglue my mouth from his and sit back.

His lips were red from me attacking them and he was rocking a, well, rock-hard-on. I was nearly shaking with the desire to tackle him, let him hike up my dress and fuck me senseless, but this wasn’t the time or place.

How the hell did I get here?

I was literally saying earlier this evening that this wasn’t a date and now here I was, in his lap and ready to screw his brains out. A girl could change her mind, couldn’t she?

“Remi?” he asked, his voice rough. It made me want to kiss his mouth again. And taste him.

Everywhere.

“I should probably get off you,” I said, forcibly taking my hands off him and running shaky fingers through my hair.

“Uh,” he said, dazed. Glad I wasn’t the only one. I levered myself off him, and he let go of my hips as I pushed my dress back down. It had been very, very close to revealing the thong I’d had to wear with this dress so I didn’t have a panty line.

“Sorry about that,” I said, stumbling on wobbly legs. I needed to get my shit together ASAP.

He looked down at his tented pants.

“No big,” he said.

“I’d beg to differ,” I said and his head snapped up. I winked and then curtseyed. He burst out laughing and I joined him.

“Holy shit,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You are ridiculous, in the best way, Remi.”

“Why thank you,” I said, edging farther away from him. I couldn’t trust myself not to pounce again.

“Fuck,” he said, staring down at his pants again. “I need to not look at you right now and think about, like, oozing wounds and other gross shit.” I snorted.

“Sorry, not sorry.” He glared and then closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.

“Are you meditating the boner away?” I asked.

He tried to hide a smile.

“Shut. Up.”

“Fine, fine,” I said, turning my back and going back to looking at his paintings. They were mostly all of the outdoors. He really did nature and weather well. Especially clouds, which I bet were not easy. I’d never dabbled in painting, other than art class in high school, and I’d gotten frustrated when the image on the page didn’t match the image in my head.

I waited until I heard the creak of him getting up from his bed.

“You good now?” I asked.

“Uh, good enough,” he said. I turned around and looked at his pants.

“My face is up here,” he said, pointing.

“You tucked, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did and I have no shame,” he said, shrugging. “Not the most comfortable solution, but I had to do what I had to do.” His eyes were blazing and I clenched my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t reach for him.

“Well. I’m sure your parents are wondering what the hell we’re doing up here,” I said.

“Probably.”

I walked toward the door. He followed behind, walking a little oddly.

“Don’t even say anything,” he said.

“Who me?” I batted my eyelashes at him and opened the door.

****

We got downstairs and I tried my best to look composed. I had an easier time of it than Brooks, since I didn’t have to tuck my dick into my pants, but I could feel my face getting red.

Lilly and Ben were in the living room, talking, when we walked in.

“Would you like some more coffee?” Lilly asked with a completely straight face.

“No, I’m good, thank you. I should, um, probably get home.” So I don’t maul your son. Again. At least I managed not to say the words out loud.

“Right,” Brooks said, putting his hands in his pockets. “And I need to drive you.”

“Thank you so much for dinner, it was lovely,” I said and Lilly gave me a hug.

“You’re welcome anytime. With or without Brooks. I’m always outnumbered in this house.” Yeah, that was for sure.

“Thanks,” I said and shook Ben’s hand again. Brooks followed right behind me.

“Way to be cool, man,” I said as he handed me into the truck.

“Seriously, stop it,” he said, but he was grinning.

He got in and shut the door.

“Is it okay if we don’t go right back to your house? I think we need to do some talking now that we’ve cooled down a little.” Maybe he had, I certainly hadn’t. Being so close to him in the truck was doing shit to my brain again.

“Sure,” I said and he started the truck.

****

We drove down to the water, which wasn’t a surprise. Brooks pulled off the road and turned the truck off.

“What the fuck are we doing?” he finally said as the waves crashed against the shore with a quiet roar.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” I asked and he turned to me.

“I’m serious, Remi. What is happening? Because I don’t think friends is gonna work for me.” I pretty much felt the same way, but didn’t want to say that. My head was scrambled and I needed a night to sleep on things.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about the kissing you and everything. Won’t happen again.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, pointing at me. “Don’t pull back from me. We were both in that kiss.” I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut.

“I don’t know what to tell you, really. I had an impulse and I went for it and... I don’t know. I didn’t expect...” I trailed off. I was excellent at talking, really.

“Yeah, me neither. But I can’t get you out of my head and I don’t want to.” I sighed.

“Yeah, well, me neither. Are you happy now, you insufferable bastard?” He started laughing at me.

“Your mouth gets so dirty when you’re backed into a corner. It’s so sexy.”

No one had ever said that to me. I bit back a smile.

“Let’s be real. I like you, you like me. I want you, and unless I’m really bad at this, you want me too. This is simple math.” It should have been. But it wasn’t.

“I don’t... This wasn’t what I wanted. My entire life has been trying to get out of this fucking town and if I let myself... with you, then I’m never gonna get out.” He flinched at my words, but I wasn’t gonna sugarcoat anything. He should be used to that by now. He’d spent enough time with me.

“Yeah, well, I used to want a lot of fucking things, Remi, but right now all I want is you.” And then I was the one being kissed.

He dove at me and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching back. We sort of collided in the middle.

We kissed with desperation, as if this was a movie or something and we couldn’t breathe without each other. It kinda felt like that. His mouth was both hard and soft, not enough and too much at the same time. I wanted to crawl inside him.

The things running through my head scared me, but they were like a train and I had no control. This was happening, whatever I said.

This time, he was the one who slammed on the brakes.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want this, Remington?” Dammit, if only he hadn’t said my full name. Using my full first name always did things to me. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

“I... I don’t know,” I said, sitting back. I was totally frustrated. Too many conflicting things running through my blood.

“Shit, Remi,” he said, running his hands through his hair like I had earlier.

“Exactly,” I said.

“Can you at least agree to let us try? To give it a shot and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, but at least we can say we tried?” I was kind of a hypocrite for getting mad at him for not working on his art when for ridiculous reasons, I was now denying myself something I wanted.

I licked my lips, but all I could taste was him and it was making me stupid.

“Okay,” I finally said. “But I don’t want to call this a thing. Like, we’re not having a relationship. We’re just seeing where things go. And I’ll only do it if you agree to do your art for an hour every day.” He glared at me and then smiled.

“You sneaky little thing. Okay, I agree.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it, like we were completing a business transaction.

“Good,” I said and then lunged at him again.

What had I gotten myself into?

Nine

Brooks

Somehow I went from being “friends” with Remi to making out with her in my truck like we were horny teenagers. No idea how we’d finally gotten here, but I liked it.

She just felt so good. If she’d asked me to devote my whole fucking life to making finger paintings, I would have said sure. I’d probably do anything to be able to keep kissing and touching her.

Remi was both vicious and sweet and I couldn’t get enough of her. I could feel that I was in deep trouble, but there wasn’t a whole lot I could do about it.

Something had started that day when she’d walked into Benson Variety, and all of this was just an inevitable conclusion.

Finally we both realized that I had to get her home. She climbed off me and fixed her hair and reapplied her lipstick in the mirror.

“Shit, I look like I’ve been worked over. Which, I mean...” she trailed off and then snapped the mirror back up.

“Your mom isn’t going to like me very much now, I’m guessing,” I said. She snorted.

“All my mom wants is for me to get married and pop out grandbabies, so anything that might lead to that is something she’s in favor of.” I cringed and she laughed.

“But really, I should get home. So I can think about what the hell I’m thinking.” I understood what she was saying, that this thing between us was just... overwhelming.

For both of us.

I drove and she made me turn off the headlights before going up her parents’ driveway.

“Do your art. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye,” she said, giving me the quickest kiss in the history of kisses, before throwing herself out of the truck and dashing up the porch and into the house.

I shook my head at her and then backed out.

That girl.

****

You gonna do your art today?

It was the first text I got in the morning. It had come in very late at night, so either she’d stayed up, or woken up and been thinking about me. I really, really liked that.

Maybe. You gonna let me take you out this week?

It was a lazy Monday and I was at the store. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as I handed out breakfast sandwiches and people sipped blearily from their cups of coffee. I made small talk and listened to gossip and marital problems, but my mind was on a girl with purple hair that had me all tied up inside.

Ugh, fine. But it’s not a date.

I could hear her voice in my head when I read it.

Fine, it’s not a date. But I’m picking you up whether you like it or not.

We texted back and forth the whole day and then into the night. I’d never used my phone so much, but I didn’t want to miss a single message.

That night after dinner, I went up to my room and pulled out a fresh canvas that I’d had in my closet. It was about three-and-a-half feet tall, so it wasn’t going to be a small project.

I checked my paints and realized they were all old and useless.

Do I get a free pass today if all my paint is crap and I need to go buy some more? I asked.

Nope. You can use anything to make art.

She was right, so I switched to charcoal. I let my hand scatter across a fresh page and it took me a little while to realize that I was drawing features. Eyes, a stubborn chin, an adorable nose.

Her. I was drawing her.

Am I expected to show my work?

I didn’t really want her knowing that I was drawing her like this. Way too intimate. So I quickly sketched the tree outside my window and sent her a picture of that.

Nice job, dude. A for effort.

I grinned when she sent me a silly picture of her holding her thumb up and giving me a goofy smile. I did the same thing and sent it back.

Dork.

I made a frowny face and then sent that.

You’re so mean to me.

We went back and forth for a little while and then I asked her again if we were going to go out this weekend.

Like I said, as long as it’s not a date. Because it’s not. Because we’re NOT DATING.

I laughed. I didn’t care what she called it as long as it happened. She could call it a board meeting if it made her feel better.

Now I just had to figure out what we were going to do so I could convince her that she DID want to call it a date. And call me her boyfriend. And stick around to see where this thing was going to take the two of us.

****

Things were different on Tuesday night when she came in to bake. This time I got a kiss.

“Gimme some sugar,” she said, puckering as I leaned down.

“Cute,” I said when our mouths parted again.

“I thought so,” she said, moving past me and going back to the kitchen. Now that I’d gotten a taste of what I was missing, all I wanted was to lift her up on the counter, unzip her jeans and get on my knees to see just how sweet she really was.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said as she measured out some vanilla.

“Like what?” I said, looking up from decorating some cookies. She’d roped me into making designs on them so they were more eye-catching. I’d been working on a Maine theme with lobsters and lighthouses and all that tourist crap.

“Like you are picturing me naked. It’s distracting.” She looked at me and raised one eyebrow.

“Sorry, not sorry,” I said and ducked. I thought she was going to hit me with her spoon.

“You’re a terrible person.”

“Yeah, well you’re the one who kissed me first, so what does that say about you?” I asked.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Very mature.”

She just smiled and I went back to the cookies.

“So, where are you taking me during the time we are going to spend time together?”

I still hadn’t figured that out. Somewhere nice, but not too stuffy. I wanted to impress her without looking like I was trying to impress her. Not an easy task. There weren’t a whole lot of options for couples to go near Hope Harbor, so we were going to have to head somewhere else.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out on Friday night,” I said, my eyes on the cookie I was working on.

“So you have no idea,” she said.

“No, none,” I admitted. I couldn’t bullshit her. She could see right through it.

“I figured. I’m not fancy, which you already know. And it’s not a date so... We could go to the movies and make out in the back and steal each other’s popcorn for all I care. I guess I just... I just like being around you.” Her cheeks got a little red. I loved it when she admitted that she liked me and then got all nervous and cute.

“I like being around you too, Remington.” The way she got when I said her full first name made my day. I absolutely loved it.

“Anyway, if you’re thinking you have to plan like, some shit with a hot air balloon, then you don’t have to, FYI.” I nodded. I didn’t think she’d like that kind of thing anyway. Maybe I could talk her into grand gestures in the future, but for right now, I was playing it safe.

Okay, casual it was. I could do that.

Remi

By Friday afternoon, I was sitting in my room with my closet torn apart, wondering what the fuck I was supposed to wear on my surprise date with Brooks. I didn’t want to cave and text him, but this was getting ridiculous.

Do I need to wear anything specific for this date?

I stared at my phone until he replied. I hated how my heart fluttered a little bit when the answer showed up.

Nope. Come as you are. Just your beautiful self.

Smooth. Very smooth, Brooks Benson.

Okay, come as myself. I finally settled on a cute t-shirt with a Peter Pan collar, the nicest pair of jeans I owned, a cardigan in case it got cold and my nice sandals. Cute, but not overdone.

I was beyond happy that I didn’t have to deal with my mom tonight because she and Dad had decided to go out on a date or something. I had no idea what was up with that, but it was cute and it also it got them out of my hair. Win-win.

When Brooks pulled up, I leisurely walked toward his truck, enjoying the way he watched me move.

“Hello,” I said when he opened my door for me.

“Hello, Remi. You look gorgeous.” He kissed me on the cheek and I almost giggled. I hadn’t been out with a guy like this for so long. It was nice. Really nice.

He had on a nice pair of dark jeans on and a polo shirt. Normally I thought those things made guys look douchey, but it worked on him. Somehow.

“No parents?” he asked as he backed out.

“They went on a date,” I said, shrugging. “But I didn’t have to run to meet you this time, so that was a plus.”

He laughed a little.

“My parents still go out on dates too. My dad gets my mom flowers and everything. It gives me faith in love, you know?” I nodded. As much as my parents were totally flawed people, they loved each other. That had never been in doubt.

“So, where are we going?”

He smirked and I could tell he was so excited and pleased with himself.

“You’ll see. You said you didn’t care if it was fancy, so we’re not doing fancy. But it’s going to take a little bit to get there. I didn’t think you’d want to hang around Hope Harbor.” He had that right. I didn’t want to hang around there any more than was necessary.

“Fine, then I get to pick the tunes.” I turned on the radio and flipped through the stations. So much freaking country. We were in Maine, not Alabama. I finally settled on the alt-rock station since they were playing “Home” by Scars on 45. I hummed along. Brooks was watching me, but I didn’t care. There was something about being with him that was simultaneously thrilling and comfortable. As if we’d been friends for so long that we’d lost all shyness.

Then he would shoot me that boyish smile and undo my insides and my feelings were definitely not of friendship. Unless you wanted to bang your best friend, then it was exactly like that.

“You look really pretty,” he said and I bit my lip in an attempt to hide a smile.

“Stop it,” I said.

“Never. I will never stop trying to make you smile and blush. It’s one of my main purposes in life.” I smacked his shoulder and he laughed.

“Yeah, well you look handsome tonight, so how about that?” He gave me a cheeky grin and popped the collar of his polo shirt.

“Okay, I take that compliment back,” I said, cringing, even though he didn’t look like an asshole. How was that possible?

“Too late. No takebacks.”

“Dammit.”

****

I spent most of the trip trying to figure out where we were going and also stopping myself from flirting with him. I wasn’t successful at either thing.

I didn’t figure it out until I saw the giant sign for the Wilson County Fair.

“We’re going to the county fair?” I asked.

“Yup. I thought about blindfolding you and doing a dramatic reveal, but I don’t think I could stand to be with you in the truck and blindfolded without doing something that would involve us not coming here. So.” He turned onto the huge field where everyone parked and squeezed his truck in.

“Hold on, I think there’s a puddle next to your door,” he said, and I waited for him to come open the door. There was a puddle, so he straddled it and reached for me.

“This is ridiculous. I can deal with a puddle,” I said, but let him lift me out of the truck.

“True, but I don’t want to listen to you complain about having wet shoes.” I rolled my eyes.

“Chivalry with an insult. How charming.” He winked and shit, I was charmed. Brooks Goddamn Benson.

He put me down, but took my hand as we headed toward the entrance. He bought my ticket and then turned to me.

“What do you want to do first?” The smells of popcorn and fried dough were almost overwhelming. In addition to food, there were several game booths, a Ferris wheel, a carousel and a few other rides, as well as a stage where a dude with a guitar was playing to a handful of distracted people.

“Would you go on the carousel with me?” I asked.

“Of course. And then we do one thing I want to do and we can alternate. Does that work for you?” I nodded as we walked in sync to the carousel. It was a rickety thing, used to being taken down and packed up to be moved from place to place, but I didn’t care. I’d always had a thing for carousels. Call me old-fashioned or romantic or whatever. I just liked them.

I got on a white horse and Brooks hopped on the dragon next to me.

“I honestly can’t remember the last time I was on one of these things,” he said as the ride lurched and started.

“Me neither. I think I was probably a kid. Who knows?” I held onto the pole as we went up and down and Brooks smiled at me.

“Having fun yet?” I nodded.

“Yeah. Great idea to come here,” I said.

“For our outing that isn’t a date,” he said, mock serious.

“Yes,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. But then he reached out his hand to me and I took it and we rode the damn carousel holding hands like a couple of teenagers.

It was awesome.

****

After the carousel Brooks said he was hungry so we loaded up on hot dogs, nachos, fried dough, french fries and sodas.

“I’m gaining weight just looking at this,” I said as we sat down at a tippy picnic table that had smears of ketchup all over it. I used a napkin to clear a space for us that was relatively clean.

“Don’t even worry about it. I like you whatever way you are. And can I say that I especially like the way you look now.” I was leaning over the table and my boobs were nearly spilling out of my top.

“Perv,” I said, throwing the napkin at him.

“Sorry, can’t help it. I like what I see when I look at you.” He put his hands up in surrender and then picked up his hot dog. We’d both gotten ours with ketchup, which had surprised me a little.

“So, what do you want to do next?” Brooks asked after he’d wiped a little bit of ketchup off his mouth. He’d loaded his dog down. Even more than me and I freaking loved ketchup.

“Ferris wheel,” I said. It was a great excuse to sit next to him and maybe make out a little. Totally cliché, but this seemed to be a cliché night. I’d never done any of this stuff when I was a teen, so I deserved to do it at least once in my life with an attractive guy that made my heart flutter.

“You gonna let me cop a feel?” I gasped at him and he burst out laughing.

“You are awful. I don’t know why I put up with you.” I finished my hot dog as he winked at me.

“Because you can’t resist me.” Well, that was true. But I didn’t want him to know that.

****

“You’d better behave,” I said as we waited for the rest of the people on the Ferris wheel to load. It always took more time to get on this ride than you actually spent riding it, but I didn’t care.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, putting his arm around me. I leaned into him and put my head on his shoulder.

“This is really nice,” I said and then he fucking kissed the top of my head.

Seriously.

Here I was, trying to keep things relatively... not in the feelings territory, and he went and did that. Now I was feeling a whole lot of big and scary things for Brooks Benson and pretending that they didn’t exist wasn’t going to work anymore.

I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut for a second and then opened them. The tight feeling in my chest was still there and Brooks was warm and solid beside me.

What would happen if I, God forbid, fell for him? Wanted to go on actual dates and have sex on a regular basis and send mushy text messages and have him buy me flowers?

For one, I’d never get out of Hope Harbor. I’d be yet another girl who tried to swim against the tide and had gotten sucked back in. I just... I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be there. Didn’t want to stay. Didn’t want to live the life my parents had.

What was I going to do?

Right now, I was going to ride the Ferris wheel with him and deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.

One thing at a time.

****

We did some of the games and of course Brooks had to show his prowess and win me a stupid stuffed unicorn. It looked like it had seen better days, but I tucked it under my arm and gave him a kiss to thank him anyway.

The sun sank lower in the sky and we went to ride the Ferris wheel one more time before we left.

“Can we do this again? I mean not specifically this fair, but spend time together?” I was going to see him on Monday when I baked, but that was different. I didn’t have flour on my nose, or frosting in my hair right now, and we definitely didn’t make out in the kitchen and contaminate everything. Although, we’d had a few close calls. Oops.

“Yeah. Next Friday?” He nodded and I leaned against him again.

“It’s a... uhhh, non-date?”

“Sure. Whatever works.”

He ran his fingers through my hair. I tried not to enjoy it and failed. I was in so much trouble.

Ten

Brooks

I worked with Falyn the next day and I was surprised when Remi showed up.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, which wasn’t the best thing to say. She took off her sunglasses and glared at me.

“Well, fuck you too,” she said, and started to leave, but I dived around the counter and stopped her.

“Wait, wait, that’s not how I meant it.” I pulled her close and gave her a kiss, feeling her melt into my arms.

“Hey,” I said, smiling as we parted. Her eyes were a little dazed and it took her a second to focus before she realized what was happening.

“Jerk.”

“Sorry. I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all.”

She shrugged one shoulder.

“Yeah, well, my mom was driving me nuts and I had nowhere else to go so...” she trailed off, her eyes darting around. “My life is pathetic.”

I kissed her again.

“No, it’s not.”

She sighed and bit her bottom lip.

“So, I should probably leave because you’re working and I have no life.” I didn’t want her to go. Then I heard a moan from the kitchen where Falyn was on pizza duty.

“What?” I said, rushing back.

“I just got a call ordering ten pizzas for a family reunion,” she said, pushing some of her hair out of her face from where it had escaped her ponytail. She was up to her elbows in flour and looked totally fried.

“Did someone say pizza?” Remi said, coming around the corner. “I mean, if you need a hand, I think I can handle it. And I’m pretty good with baking.” Falyn gave Remi a desperate look and then glanced at me, begging with her bottom lip pouting out.

Little sisters, I tell you.

“You don’t have to,” I said to Remi, but she was already heading toward the sink to wash her hands.

“Don’t even worry about it,” she said, grabbing one of the large (used to be) white aprons and putting it on.

I looked at Falyn and she just shrugged.

“Okay, but let me know if you need a break or something,” I said. Remi just put her hands on my chest and pushed me out of the kitchen.

“Go. We got this.”

****

It was a crazy busy Saturday. Most of my time was spent at the register, or restocking the refrigerator, or unloading a new shipment of chips. I kept one ear trained on the kitchen, where I could hear Remi and Falyn talking and laughing together.

They were very close, personality-wise. Neither gave a shit what someone else thought and did their own thing, regardless of whether people would approve or not. I had the feeling they would get along and it turned out I was right.

I headed back a few hours later to find the two of them leaning against the counter and laughing.

“Everything going okay back here?” I asked and they turned at the same time.

“Yeah, we’re gonna hang out and get a drink after this,” Remi said and Falyn nodded.

“Well, that was fast.” I raised my eyebrows at my sister but she only shrugged at me. “She hasn’t tried to seduce you yet, has she?” I narrowed my eyes at Falyn.

“I’m not that bad! Why do you always think I hit on everything that is female?”

“I’m a big girl, Brooks. I can handle it. And she’s been a total lady the whole time.” Remi wiggled her eyebrows at Falyn and grinned.

Falyn smirked at me.

“Fine, fine. Have a good time together,” I said, putting my hands up in surrender. Remi threw a dirty dishtowel at me, but I caught it midair.

“Have funnnn,” I said, drawing out the word.

“We willllll,” Remi said back.

Remi

So, Falyn was awesome. I wish I had known sooner because I would have loved hanging out with her. She was hilarious and cursed as much as I did. Plus, she didn’t give a shit.

“Oh my God, I need more straight friends,” she said. “Or just friends in general. I have a hard time making new friends who are girls because they always think I’m going to try to ‘convert’ them.” I snorted.

“Um, I figure you would have copped a feel or something by now. I’m kind of disappointed,” I said. She threw her head back and it reminded me so much of Brooks.

“Well, you’re very cute, but I don’t go after someone who’s already in a relationship.” That set me reeling.

“Brooks and I aren’t...” I tried to say, but she put her hand up to stop me.

“Save it. I don’t care what you call it, the sexual tension between the two of you reeks more than a teenage boy who doesn’t know how much Axe to use. It’s happening whether you want it to or not. Sorry, babe.” I opened my mouth to argue, but just rested my head on the counter.

“Shut up,” I said and she patted my shoulder.

****

Brooks was being all cute and skeptical when Falyn and I headed out for our drink together, but he waved goodbye and told us to have a good time as we headed off together in my car.

Falyn told me about the cottage she was living in with her brother and how she had a million jobs.

“I just have no idea what I want to do, aka ‘no direction.’” She put the last two words in air quotes. “What if I decide I want to do something and then change my mind? What then? That’s why I never really figured out college. I wanted to take literally everything, so I couldn’t choose anything.”

I laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right. But you could always take one at a time or online or something.”

She shrugged. “I’m not worried about it. It’s nice having a bunch of brothers that screw up worse than you do because then your parents are too distracted to be mad at you.”

I sighed. “And that’s what sucks about being an only child. There is no one else to carry on their legacy and shit. No one else to pop out the grandchildren.”

She snorted.

“At least I don’t really have to worry about that. Dasen has already had the required grandchild, and I have the feeling that at least two or more of my other brothers will procreate, so I’m off the hook. Maybe I’ll adopt someday if I find the right girl. Who knows?” We talked some more about feeling trapped in a small town as we headed to the bar.

I ordered a rum and Coke for myself and a Bud Light for Falyn since she wasn’t quite 21 yet. I wasn’t worried about getting busted. You could pretty much deal heroin down here and no one would care. Plus, all the cops had their own checkered pasts that you could bring up if you needed to.

“Sorry, I’m a lesbian who drinks beer. Walking cliché,” she said, rolling her eyes.

We found a secluded corner where we could avoid having to talk to anyone else and shot the shit for a while.

“So I wasn’t going to ask, but what is going on with you and my brother?” Ugh, I didn’t want to talk about this.

“Well, we’re hanging out and stuff. Not dating. Definitely not that.” She snorted and sipped her beer.

“Yeah, okay. You can call it whatever you want, but girlfriend, you’ve got yourself a boyfriend. He really likes you, in case you didn’t know. I’ve never really seen him like this, to be honest.” I felt myself blushing.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. I kind of thought he was a total asshole.”

“Who isn’t?” I held up my glass and we toasted to that.

“It’s... surprising. And scary. I just didn’t want to get into anything serious here and then BOOM, Brooks Benson.” I shook my head.

“Sounds terrible,” she said.

“It pretty much is.”

****

I ended up having another drink and then I was worried about driving, so I handed Falyn the keys because she’d only had the one beer and it had been a while.

“Look, anytime you want to hang out, let me know. I pretty much do nothing but hang out with my stupid brothers when I’m not working, so it would be nice to spice things up.” We’d exchanged numbers and we even hugged when we got back to Benson Variety.

Brooks’ truck was gone, and I couldn’t help the little sinking in my heart.

It was like, if I wasn’t with him, I wanted to be. I couldn’t get enough, apparently. I was Brooksdicted. Was there a cure? Probably not.

I ended up sitting in my car and fooling around on my phone until I felt a little more sober. I didn’t want to take any DUI chances.

It was a huge effort NOT to text Brooks. And then he texted me and took the decision out of my hands.

Do you need a ride, or are you good?

Curse him for being so considerate.

Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for asking, though.

Anytime, Remington.

Even just seeing my name on a text set my heart going. I had a real problem.

I groaned and rested my head on my steering wheel.

“Why,” I said to myself, drawing the word out. “Why him?”

I was a strong woman; I could resist Brooks.

What a load of crap. I was a really terrible liar, especially to myself. I was careening into a wall and that wall had a word with four letters on it that began with L and ended with E and had an O and a V in the middle. Shit.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone. I’d dated here and there, but never found any guy who impressed me enough to continue a relationship. They’d either say something stupid, or do something stupid and I’d blow up on them and it would be over. I wasn’t an easy person to get along with. This was a fact. So I knew finding a guy wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, but I never expected... this.

Did you do your art? I asked. Every day he sent me pictures of what he’d been working on and each was more impressive than the last. I was so thrilled he was doing it again, but what about his future?

He wasn’t happy running Benson Variety, and I couldn’t believe his parents would want him to devote his life to something that didn’t make him happy. Even he’d told me his mom had told him to be happy.

It wasn’t “too late” for him to do something with his work. Even if it was displaying his pieces in a tiny local gallery, it would at least give him a chance to share them and make some money. I knew he didn’t want that, but...

Ugh, I wanted him to be happy. This was terrible. I was so beyond screwed.

****

Mom was pissy at me for going out and coming back late, but I said I’d made friends with Falyn Benson and she got a little weird. I wasn’t even going to dignify her weirdness because I knew part of it was homophobia and seriously, fuck that.

Falyn was a little—notorious?—around Hope Harbor. I could appreciate that in a girl.

I let most of what Mom said go in one ear and out the other. She and Dad had had a good time on their date the other night. Sounded like they were going to do it more often, for which I was glad.

I escaped to my room as quick as I could and then texted Brooks. Most of the effects of the alcohol had worn off, but I was still feeling like my inhibitions were lower than they should have been.

I hate how much I like you I sent him.

Why?

I thought about it and figured I should just call him. So I did. I didn’t even bother with a greeting when he answered, just picked up right where I’d left off.

“Because I didn’t plan this and I am a fan of plans. I mean, like, hardly any of my plans have worked out, but still.”

“Yeah, I had plans too, but those plans were shit. You shouldn’t keep going with something if you don’t want to do it anymore, just because you decided that you wanted to do it when you were in another space in your life.” I hated how he knew the right things to say.

“I know, I know. I just... I feel like I’m adrift right now and I want something solid to hold onto. It was getting out of Hope Harbor and doing my own thing, but...” I trailed off.

“So you’re telling me that I might be affecting your plans?” I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. I shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s not just you,” I said. “I don’t know, Brooks. I just don’t know. Everything feels like it’s out of my control and I hate feeling this way. But then I feel stuck at the same time. Does that make any sense?” He let out a breath.

“Yeah. That makes more sense than you can even know.” We were silent for a little while, just breathing together.

“You make sense to me. Being with you makes sense to me. And holding onto you makes me feel like I’m not just... existing without living. You’re the best part of my day, Remi. And I’m sorry if that scares you, but there it is.” It should scare me. But I wasn’t afraid, really. I just felt... warm. Safe.

“I hate it when you say things like that.”

“And by hate it, you mean the opposite of that, I’m guessing,” he said.

“Maybe.”

Yes.

Eleven

Brooks

Avery came to see me at the store that following Tuesday. He was all dressed for work in a grey suit, red tie and crisp white shirt. He’d probably ironed the damn thing within an inch of its life.

“Hey, Ave, what can I do for you?” I asked as I washed pizza sauce off my hands.

“Do you have a minute where we can talk in the office?” This wasn’t good. He looked serious and I hadn’t seen him quite that bad for a long time.

“Uh, sure.” I looked around and saw that the store was pretty much empty, so I figured we could take a few minutes. Our regular customers had no problem yelling out when they wanted to buy their beer and cigarettes.

Avery followed me into the little back office where Mom used to do the accounting and bookkeeping, and where I did most of the organizing now. It had been in much better shape when she was here. Also, more clean.

I pulled out the rickety chair and Avery took the only other one.

“What’s up?” I asked, leaning back. I knew exactly how far I could lean before the chair would tip over.

“The utility bills,” he said. I had a feeling he was going to notice that. We’d been using a lot more fuel since Remi had started baking here. I figured the amount we got from her in commission made up for it, but I guess Avery didn’t think so.

“Yeah, Remi’s been baking here at night. I said she could use the stove and so forth. She doesn’t really have a place to go. And she’s paying us commission.” I’d explained this to him already, but apparently it hadn’t gotten through his sometimes-thick skull.

“Yeah, I just don’t think we should be using those resources and spending money for that. Not that it isn’t nice of you to offer, but not at the expense of the store.” I was going to punch him in his fucking face.

“Yeah, well, I talked to Mom and Dad and they agreed to it, so you don’t really have any grounds to object now, do you? You’re not the one who’s here, day after day, putting in the hours. You go to your fancy job in your fancy suit and to hell with the rest of us!” Somehow, I was standing and I was yelling right in his face.

“Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to change things, Brooks. The money situation isn’t good. The economy is bad right now and we should be making cuts, not adding expenses. I thought we could have a reasonable discussion about this, but I guess not.” His face was red and it was taking everything in me not to deck him.

“You’re not here. You’re never here. Why didn’t you just move away and leave us alone?” I’d wanted to say those words for so long, and they’d finally come out. It was about time.

He opened his mouth to throw something back at me, but then clenched his jaw. His face was red and I could feel the anger radiating off him.

“You have no idea what I’ve done, Brooks. None. And don’t you dare fucking say that I don’t care about my family.” He had his finger in my face and it shook. I wanted to smack it away, but if I touched him, we were going to get physical, and I wasn’t going to do that here. We’d had fights when we were younger, but not for a long time.

“You think you know everything, but you don’t. I can’t even talk to you anymore.” He pivoted and stormed out. I waited for the sound of the screen door to slam before I left the office and went back to the kitchen. I grabbed a cup and drank a glass of cold water.

It didn’t cool my temper any.

What the fuck was he talking about? I had no idea. He’d basically just told me that he’d done something for the family or the store that I didn’t know about. What?

Either my parents had been lying to me, or he was full of shit. I was leaning toward the latter, but something in the way he said it had rung true. Avery wasn’t a bull-shitter. That gave me something to turn over and over in my mind for the rest of the day. I was pissed and distracted and it just kept getting worse until I got a text from a pretty girl.

My mom is taking me clothes shopping, please kidnap or kill me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Your dad has guns, right? I don’t think I should do either of those things, but if you want to escape, you know where I am.

Where I always was. At Benson Variety.

****

“I had a talk with Avery today,” I said that night at dinner. “It got a little... heated.” Mom gave me a look that said oh, Brooks without her even having to speak the words.

“He basically said that I didn’t know what he’d done for this family and I was kind of wondering what he meant?” Grayson grumbled under his breath across the table from me and Mom shared a look with Dad.

“He just helped us out with some things at the bank, that’s all. Loans and taking out a second mortgage on the house.” I choked on my fried chicken.

“You took out a second mortgage?” Mom nodded as if I was being stupid.

“We needed to keep the store going, so we did what we had to.” She raised one shoulder and lowered it like, no big deal. What was she talking about?

I started to ask more, but Grayson sighed and Dad cleared his throat.

“I don’t think this is the right discussion for the dinner table.”

“Then when can we discuss it, because I need to know what’s going on. Jesus.” Mom glared at me and I glared right back. I didn’t like people hiding things from me. I was a grown-ass man. I could handle it. I’d been handling it. Did they think I was too stupid or something?

The more I thought about it, the madder I got (again). I excused myself from the table early and headed upstairs. My parents let me go. Part of me knew I was being immature and throwing a tantrum, but I was too far gone.

When I got to my room, I tore open some paint and grabbed a canvas. I was spending a lot of money on them lately and they were piling up. What was I going to do with all of them?

Facing the empty slate, I smeared some paint on my hand and slapped at the canvas. I had no idea what was I doing, but it felt right. I added yellow and red and green and purple and black, all the colors I had. I used every single one. Paint splattered all over me, but I didn’t care. I just kept going until the entire surface was covered with angry prints, a lot of the colors muddied together.

It wasn’t anything great, but I was breathing heavily and my chest felt a little less tight.

“You get it out of your system?” a voice behind me said and I whirled around to find Mom lounging in my doorway, her arms crossed. “That was always the key for you when you were young and frustrated about something. Give you a piece of paper and some crayons or markers and you’d work it out.” I remembered. I remembered her giving me timeouts, but she always let me have paper and something to draw with during those timeouts. My mom understood all her children so well and tailored her parenting style for each of us.

“Sort of,” I said, picking up a rag and wiping off my hands. I’d need to shower to get all of it, I was pretty much covered from head to toe. My clothes and shoes were a lost cause.

“We didn’t tell you because we were handling it. It wasn’t important.” I almost threw the rag on the floor in anger.

“Of course it’s important!” She gave me a level look. My fear melted.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea that you’re hiding things from me while also having me run the store. I need to know what’s going on. I want to help.” Mom sighed and pushed off the door to come fully into the room. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been in here. My parents respected our need for privacy. Unless we got into trouble and then we were under the microscope.

“I’m sorry. I just thought it was one more thing that you didn’t need on your shoulders. You’ve done so much and I didn’t want you taking on more than necessary. I wasn’t trying to exclude you, I promise.” That almost made me feel better.

“And I think... I think it’s time that you cut back your hours at the store. You need to do your own thing. Falyn, Dasen and Callan have volunteered to take on more shifts.” I didn’t think “volunteered” was the right word in this case.

Now I’d done it. I’d acted like a child and she was going to treat me like one. Fuck. “It’s fine, I can handle it,” I said.

“Oh, baby,” she said, reaching out and touching my face. There was probably paint all over it. “I don’t want you to handle it. I want you to do things that make you happy. I want you not to regret your life when you look back on it. I want you to have goals and dreams and wants and desires.” I did. Sort of.

No, I didn’t. I’d had them once, but they’d never felt right. Never felt like I could put them on and wear them comfortably. And when I’d come back and shucked them off, I hadn’t replaced them with anything. I’d just been living day-to-day. Not thinking about the future. About what I wanted.

It didn’t matter. I was going to step up and run the store and that was good enough. That should be good enough.

“This isn’t enough for you. It never has been,” she said, as if she’d been reading my mind. For all I knew, she could. Special Mom powers.

“I want it to be,” I said and she gave me a sad smile.

“Wanting doesn’t make something so. You need to think about what you want to do. Art, or something else. I will do whatever I can to support you. I want you to have what you want. That’s always been my goal for all of my children. I know I haven’t been perfect, but I hope you know that. That your happiness is number one and always will be.” There were tears in her eyes and I was a little choked up myself.

“I’ll try,” I said and she patted my cheek.

“That’s my boy.”

Remi

Brooks was introspective and quiet the next time I came over to bake.

“You okay?” I asked and he looked up as if he’d forgotten I was there.

“Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

“Be careful, don’t sprain anything,” I said, bumping him with my shoulder, but his forehead just stayed creased.

“Okay, what is up with you, dude? You don’t have to tell me what it is, but at least tell me that there is something up.”

He sighed and leaned on the counter and crossed his arms. They had flour all over them, but he didn’t seem to care. We spent our nights together covered in various baking detritus and I’d really let him go nuts with helping me tonight.

Most nights, we could get the work done in about half the time and then we just talked and hung out so I didn’t have to go home. I was starting to think of this little kitchen with the poor ventilation and a concrete floor as “our” place. My home didn’t really feel like home anymore and it wasn’t like he had an apartment we could go to. This was our only other option.

“Just... family stuff and money stuff. I don’t really want to talk about it. And my mom said some things.” He shook his head and I stopped working on my chocolate ganache and walked over to him.

“Things about what?” I leaned next to him and mirrored his pose.

“About running the store and about how I should be doing something I want to do instead of this.” He waved his hand around to indicate the store.

“Yeah, well, she’s not wrong.” He frowned again.

“I want this to be enough. I want to be content here. It would make things so much easier.” He groaned and put his face in his hands.

“Yeah, I know all about that. I wish sometimes that I wanted to marry a local guy and have kids and go to softball games and all that. I may not know what I want, but I know it’s not that.” He raised his head and looked at me.

“So we’re both in the same boat.” I shrugged and then he reached out and pulled me into a hug. I felt a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re my favorite thing about this town.”

“You’re mine,” I said, loud enough for him to hear.

“That’s good to know. That’s really good to know.” A sigh rumbled in his chest and I just let him hold me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been really hugged like this. I mean, by my dad, sure, but this was something else.

Brooks and I hadn’t gotten carried away since the night I’d jumped him when he’d shown me his art. It had been a close thing, though. And right now I was feeling warm. Very warm. More so in certain areas of my body than others. Brooks’ fingers danced along my back and he started slowly rocking us side-to-side, as if we were dancing.

I pulled back so I could put my chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

Our lips met and it was deep and slow. I didn’t shove my tongue in his mouth this time. We kissed as if we had all the time in the world. As if we had forever.

I gripped his shirt and then broke the kiss so I could slowly draw it off him. He let it fall to the flour-covered floor and then kissed me again. Brooks broke the kiss and looked at me before he picked me up and put me on the counter.

“Oh,” I said as he stood between my legs and kissed me again. I ran my fingers up and down his chest, loving every dip and peak. My nails scraped his nipples and he groaned into my mouth. That sound sent shivers all over my body.

My shirt soon joined his on the floor. I was sweating from the oven and from the kissing.

Brooks stopped kissing me. “You’re beautiful.”

I smiled and he went back to my mouth, his hands sliding all over my heated skin. I started working on his pants, but he grabbed my hands and stopped me.

“No rush,” he said. “There’s no rush.” He reached back and pulled my hair out of my messy ponytail and it tumbled over my shoulders.

He ran his fingers through it and then moved my bra straps so he could kiss my shoulders. I knew if I didn’t stop him NOW RIGHT NOW there would be no stopping.

I didn’t stop him when he unhooked my bra and drew it off. I was working with a lot in the chest department, so taking the thing off was a huge relief. And then I caught the look on Brooks’ face.

“Can I touch you?” he asked. The request was so sweet that I smiled.

“Yes. You can.” He brushed his thumbs across my nipples and they hardened instantly. His mouth went back to mine as his hands worked over my breasts. I hooked my legs around him to pull him closer and I hooked my fingers in his jeans. I was gonna need him to get naked sooner rather than later.

I forgot about his pants when he kissed his way down my face and neck, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. He bit down just enough to make me jerk against him. He lavished attention on it and then moved to the other one.

“I swear, I could stare at you all day. You’re even better than I made up in my head.” The way he said it made me blush.

“You’re something else, Remington Wright,” he said, smiling up at me.

“Thank you,” I said breathlessly. “Now take your pants off.”

He chuckled and pressed his head between my breasts.

“Don’t suffocate,” I said and he lifted his smiling face.

“You’re fantastic. And yes, I’ll take my pants off. I’ll do anything you want, Remi.” That sounded like it was a statement about more than just sex.

“I want you to take your pants off,” I said, my throat a little dry. He straightened up and unzipped his pants, shoving them down his legs and then kicking them away, never looking away from me.

I leaned back and looked at him in his black boxer briefs. I didn’t need any imagination to know what he had going on in there.

“Now your turn,” he said and went for my zipper. I had to do a tricky little maneuver to get my jeans over my hips and down my legs while still sitting on the counter. I thanked myself for having the presence of mind to wear nice underwear this morning and not something that was gross.

Brooks looked up at me, asking a question.

“Do you have a condom?” He winked.

“Be right back.” When he walked out of the kitchen I realized he was going out to the main part of the store to grab a box.

“Just put it on my tab,” I yelled out.

“I got this,” he yelled back and then came back with the box of condoms in his hand.

“Are you sure?” he asked me one more time and I just leaned forward and grabbed him to get him to kiss me again.

Yes. I was sure. All of me was sure.

Twelve

Brooks

She was so gorgeous naked, I didn’t even know where to look first. It was all good. Every inch of her. She bit her lip and watched me as I got on my knees, cushioning them on our discarded clothing while I kissed my way down her stomach. She lay back and nearly hit her head on a few spatulas. She had to move a few things aside so there was room.

“This was way more romantic when we started,” she said, laughing a little. Then I licked her bellybutton and she stopped talking as a moan escaped her mouth. I was going to take my time with her.

I made my way down her quivering skin and stopped just short of my final destination. All in good time. I was going to savor all of this.

I lifted up one leg, licking and kissing my way over every inch before moving to the other. She lifted herself up so she could watch me. The fire in her eyes was spurring me as much as the little noises she made.

I hooked her legs over my shoulders and looked at her one more time before kissing my way to where she’d wanted me in the first place.

“Yes,” she hissed out as I licked her once.

Sweet. Of course she was. So sweet.

I went slowly. Taking my time. Barely teasing her. Little touches while she kept moving, trying to get me to go harder. But she’d have to wait. I was going to make this last.

Her legs shook as I reached up with one hand and stroked her before sliding a single finger inside, and then another, pumping them slowly and moving until I hit the right spot. She started cursing and I could tell she was getting close. I picked up the pace. She moved with desperation before she finally arched her back and yelled out.

She wasn’t quiet, Remington, and I loved it. We definitely wouldn’t have been able to do this at my parents’ house. They would have heard her on the first floor.

She was finally still and I moved back as her legs trembled a little on my shoulders.

“Fuck. That was amazing.” She panted and I laughed out loud when she put two thumbs in the air.

“It’s not over yet,” I said. I gave her a moment to recover and then I was back at it. I made her come again and she was even louder than the first time. It was awesome and I was so fucking hard by the end I thought I was probably going to die.

I finally slid off my boxer briefs and found her pulling a condom out of the box and ripping the wrapper open.

“Get over here, hot stuff,” she said. I walked over to her and watched as she rolled it on.

“That’s fucking hot,” I said and she winked at me before opening her legs and crooking her finger.

“Get over here.”

Fuck. Yes.

I stepped toward her and teased her for a second before sliding right in. I put one hand behind her back and one between us so I could get her off again. I started slow, so we could figure out our rhythm, but soon she was begging me to go harder, faster. I wanted to give her what she asked for, but I knew I wasn’t going to last long. When she came again, I was done.

I thought I was going to black out, but I didn’t. I opened my eyes and looked straight into hers.

“Wow,” I said.

“Ditto,” she said. My knees were sore from the floor duty, but I didn’t care. I pulled out and she lay back on the counter with a sigh.

“I’m really glad we didn’t do that at your parents’ house. Because I could never face your mom again.”

I leaned my elbows on the counter next to her.

“Yeah, me neither.”

She turned her head and smiled at me.

“We should probably finish up or else we’re never going to get out of here.” Right. Baking. I’d completely forgotten. She was still naked.

She pushed herself up and blushed a little.

“I should probably put some clothes on.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said, shaking my head.

“Um, I can’t bake naked, Brooks.”

“Why not?” She opened her mouth to argue.

“Can I wear an apron?”

“Sure.”

So she got up and put on one of the aprons, leaving her ass visible, which was just great. I tossed the condom and then put an apron on too. Remington Rose Wright was definitely checking me out.

We both went back to work, but kept trading glances. I kept picturing her with ganache dripping all over her perfect breasts and then licking it off. Slowly. So slowly. And then fucking her on the floor. Or the counter. I wasn’t picky.

“We’re never going to get this done if you keep looking at me like you’re gonna tackle me on the floor and fuck me senseless,” she said, staring deep into the bowl, as if she was purposefully avoiding making eye contact with me. Too tempting.

“Well, maybe you should let me fuck you again. Then I’ll get it out of my system and we can go back to working.” She looked up and raised one eyebrow.

“No. We have to finish. Then fuck.” I stepped toward her and she held out her spoon to stop me.

“Bad boy. Go back over there. No touching, no ogling.” I snorted.

“I can’t promise not to do either of those things. Not now that I’ve got a taste of you.” I made sure to keep eye contact as I licked my lips.

She groaned.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I can’t help it?”

She growled at me and I almost dived at her again. I was hard and that was definitely making it difficult to work near her.

Somehow, despite all the talking and the staring and the wanting, we got everything done. I came up behind her as she was washing her hands in the sink and grabbed her ass with both hands. She yelped and then the sound changed tone as I slid one hand around her front and touched her. Remi rested her head against my shoulder.

I stroked her and she ground herself against my hand. She came fast. And then she turned around to face me.

“Your turn.”

She whipped off the apron and folded it up before getting on her knees. I fumbled with the ties of my own apron so I could get the damn thing off.

As she leaned forward and smiled before taking my head into her mouth, I realized that I was never, ever, going to get enough of her.

****

It was very, very late by the time we actually put our clothes back on and decided we needed to go home.

“This doesn’t mean more than it has to mean,” Remi said as I ran my fingers through her hair. Much to my disappointment she’d whipped a brush out of her bag and brushed through all the tangles I’d created. Remi had great sex hair.

“I know,” I said, even though I wanted to tell her what it meant to me.

“So, don’t do anything stupid, like fall in love with me,” she said, poking me in the chest.

Too late, I thought.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I told her. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and kissed me. She tasted like the ganache she’d taste-tested earlier.

“I’ll see you soon?” she said, shouldering her bag.

“Soon,” I agreed and she gave me a little wave as she walked out. I slumped against the counter and looked up at the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

****

I couldn’t sleep that night. My parents were already in bed when I got home, so I hadn’t had to deal with any questions. Not that it mattered. My mom would know because she always did.

So I got up and grabbed a piece of charcoal and a fresh page. I closed my eyes and breathed and let my hand go. What emerged was a picture of Remi, naked, laying on the counter, her face glowing with the aftermath of climax, a sleepy-sexy smile on her face.

I couldn’t get this girl out of my head and I didn’t want to. I’d fought things for as long as I could. Remington Wright had busted her way into my life and now I couldn’t imagine it without her.

She also made me want things again. Want to make art and maybe do something else with my life. She made me think about things in a new way, and I would forever be grateful for that, even if nothing else happened between us. Even if she packed up her stuff and headed back to New York tomorrow. At least I had had this.

I looked at the drawing of Remi and sighed. I had a lot of them, but I’d never shown them to her. I didn’t want her thinking I was obsessed with her. Because I was not. That much.

I groaned and put the drawing down and sat back in my creaky chair.

What was I going to do?

Remi

Both my parents were asleep when I snuck back into the house, so I was grateful for small victories. I took a much-needed shower and then brushed out my hair again before putting on my comfiest pajamas and sliding into bed.

My head was spinning with everything that had happened tonight. The sex had been... well, mind-blowing was an understatement. Huge understatement. I didn’t know where Brooks Benson had learned those skills but holy shit. Good boy. My knees were sore and the rest of me was a little sore too. Maybe we needed to get a mattress to put back in the kitchen for when it happened again.

Wait, what?

Sex with Brooks had been great, but I couldn’t let it happen again. Sex paved the way to love (at least in my experience) and that wasn’t something I could let happen. I’d gotten to try him out and that was it. I wasn’t going to do it again.

Of course my brain chose that moment to remind me of said sex. Good. So good.

Part of me wanted to call him up and have him sneak over so we could do it again. But then I’d have to try to stifle myself and I hated doing that. He seemed to enjoy the noise too.

Oh, shit, what was I going to do? I put the pillow over my face and screamed into it.

I should not have fucked him. That was a huge mistake because now I knew what I could have and keep having if I wanted it. I did want it but...

I screamed into the pillow again. I thought about texting him and telling him that it had all been a mistake and that we should never, ever, have sex again.

Deep down, though, it hadn’t felt like a mistake. I thought about the way he’d looked at me, the way our bodies had worked together. As if we’d been practicing. As if we’d planned it out beforehand.

I was in trouble and I was so conflicted about what to do. I needed advice and I needed someone to tell me what the right thing to do was because I sure as hell didn’t know.

****

I was in a bitchy mood the next morning and avoided leaving my room until both my parents were at work so I didn’t unleash on them. When they were gone I ended up drinking coffee on the porch, just sitting on the swing and thinking.

I heard his truck before I saw it. Some part of me wasn’t surprised at all that he’d show up here. He got out and walked slowly toward me, his hands in his pockets.

“You want some coffee?” I asked before he could say anything.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, so I went inside and came out with a cup. I knew he took it black like me.

He sat next to me on the swing. We hadn’t talked or texted since last night. Things looked very different in the harsh light of day.

We sipped our coffee for a little bit before he turned to me.

“So we need to talk about last night.” I nodded.

“Yeah. I think... I think we shouldn’t let it happen again,” I said before he could say something that might make me change my mind. I had to be firm and I had to be consistent. No matter how much I wanted him, letting myself fall in love with Brooks wasn’t for me.

He needed a local girl. Especially one that wasn’t a hot mess.

Brooks didn’t say anything after I told him. His lips pressed together. Definitely didn’t look happy, but why would he? I was sure he had some grand speech prepared or something to try to woo me. I had to shut that down before he started because I couldn’t resist him when he said the right things.

“If that’s how you feel,” he said, and then drained the rest of the coffee. “Then that’s how you feel. I hope we can still be friends?”

“Yeah, I still want to be friends. But I just... I just don’t want to muddy the waters, you know? I don’t regret last night, though. We were headed that way and it was kinda inevitable.” At least it felt that way for me.

Brooks held his cup in two hands.

“Yeah, inevitable,” he said in a soft voice and then cleared his throat.

“I just wanted to come over and see if you were okay.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Things were getting awkward between us and I didn’t like it. I stood up.

“Do you want to come in and hang out or something? Maybe watch a movie.” He looked at me and then said, “Sure.”

****

“So, this is it,” I said, waving my hand. The house wasn’t half as big as his, but there were a lot less of us than the Bensons.

“It’s nice. Cozy,” he said.

“That’s one word for it.” I jerked my head toward the living room and we both sat on the couch.

“So, what do you want to watch?” I asked and he shrugged. I wasn’t a huge fan of this version of Brooks. Surly and quiet and unsmiling.

“Okay then. I’m putting on the loudest, most obnoxious reality show I can find,” I said, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on.

“This was a bad idea,” he said, sighing as I flipped through the channels. I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing because I was too busy trying to figure out what was up with him.

“Watching TV?” I asked, knowing that definitely wasn’t what he was talking about.

“This. I just can’t stop thinking about last night and I don’t know how you can sit here and act like it didn’t matter.” Wasn’t the girl supposed to say that kind of stuff?

“It did matter. That’s why I can’t handle it again.”

“Can’t handle it?” he asked, taking the remote out of my hand so I’d pay attention to him.

“Yes. I can’t handle it,” I said.

“Because you felt something for me and it scared you. That’s why. You’re freaking out and you’re turning your back on something you want for no fucking reason.”

I gaped at him. I’d never seen Brooks like this before. He was pissed. Really pissed. Guess he was one of those types who got quieter when he was upset, before he unleashed his anger.

“I have my own fucking reasons for doing things and they have nothing to do with you, Brooks Benson. Don’t tell me what to do.” His nostrils flared and I could tell he wanted to blow up at me, but was holding back.

“Go ahead. Say what you want to say. Get it all out. Give it to me.”

He let a breath out through his nose.

“I think you feel a lot of things for me that scare you. I think you put on a front that things don’t bother you, and things don’t affect you, but I think it’s really the opposite. I think you feel stuff way more than you admit. I know you felt something for me last night because I was there. I felt it too. And yes, it scares the shit out of me, but at least I can admit it. At least I can admit that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” His voice kept getting louder and I wanted to scream back at him, but he wasn’t done.

“Don’t bullshit me, Remington. I’m not an idiot.” He got off the couch and started for the door. I leapt up and followed him.

“Hey, you don’t get to yell at me and then walk away!” His back stiffened and he turned slowly.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Well, wasn’t that the million-dollar question?

“I don’t know,” I said and he scoffed.

“Yes you do. You just can’t admit it.” With that, he was out the door and stomping toward his truck. Then he was skidding out of the driveway. I was angry and hurt, so I went back in the house and slammed the door.

Didn’t make me feel better.

Less than twenty-four hours ago we’d been fucking and now we were fighting. We never should have gotten naked together. We’d totally ruined everything.

Or I had.

A lot of what Brooks said slammed me in the gut with truth. I did feel the barbs that people threw at me. Always had. I hated that Brooks did what a lot of people hadn’t. He’d looked harder. He didn’t just assume I was a bitch and dismiss me. He saw through my defense mechanisms and down to the essence of who I was. And he liked what he saw. Liked me.

I sat on the couch in the living room and chewed on my nails. I didn’t want to throw myself into a relationship, but I also didn’t want to lose him completely and if I didn’t do something to repair things, that was going to happen.

What could I do?

I got up and went to the kitchen.

****

Several hours later I was sitting in my car in the Bensons’ driveway. Trying to get up the courage to go knock on the door.

But then he came out and walked down the porch. I took a deep breath and got out of the car.

“My parents were wondering why someone was hanging out in our driveway and sent me out to investigate,” he said as I leaned against my car. His jaw clenched tight. This was not going to be easy.

“I made you something,” I stuttered and went to the passenger side of the car and pulled out the cake.

It was marble on the inside and had white frosting with the words CAN WE BE FRIENDS? written in scrolling letters on the top.

I held out the cake and the minute he looked at it, his face cracked and he tried to hide a smile.

“Of course you would make me a cake,” he said. I shrugged.

“Baking: it’s what I do.”

He sighed and I could tell he was still trying to be mad.

“I know we can’t undo last night and I don’t want to, but I also don’t want to lose you. You’re like the only person in this town that I actually like. I mean, other than your sister.” I guess I had a real affinity for the Benson family.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the house.

“Wait, I can’t come in. I can’t look at your parents right now.” He chuckled.

“They won’t bite. Seriously, come in. I want to bust into that cake and I can’t really do that here.” I bit my lip but then followed him into the house. His parents didn’t seem to be around. Maybe they were giving us some privacy?

Brooks and I went into the kitchen and I set the cake down on the counter as he got out some plates and silverware. I cut us both pieces and put them on plates. We stood as we ate. Brooks closed his eyes and sighed.

“Everything you make is good. It should be illegal,” he said through a mouthful. I did a little half-curtsey.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry that I’m all over the place. I’m sorry I’ve been jerking you around. I just... I need us to just be friends. Can we go back to that?” We really couldn’t go back to exactly the way things were before, but I still wanted us to try to be friends again. Without the kissing.

“And what does that mean, Remi? Friends? What does that mean to you?”

I opened my mouth and for a second I couldn’t say it.

“I think we should keep things platonic. For now.” His eyes narrowed and then he looked down at his plate.

“Is that really what you want?”

NO.

“Yes.”

“Okay, then. That’s what we’ll do.” I breathed a sigh of relief and we finished our pieces of cake in silence. It wasn’t an ideal reconciliation, but it was as good as I thought I was going to get.

“Oh, something else I thought of for you,” I said. I had no idea how he was going to take this, but I was doing it anyway. “You could totally set up a store on Etsy to sell prints of some of your work. It’s super cheap to get them made and then maybe you could make some money without actually, technically, selling your art. What do you think?”

I’d thought he was going to slam my idea and give me the line again about how he didn’t want to make money off his art, but he just smiled and shook his head at me.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just a solution to so many problems, Remington.” That made me want to kiss him again. Bastard. I coughed.

“You can have the rest of it,” I said about the cake. “If I bring it home, I’ll just eat it and it will go straight to my ass.” He opened his mouth as if to make a comment about my ass and then slammed it shut. Probably because it wasn’t a platonic comment.

I was a little saddened by his restraint, but I’d get over it. This was the way I needed things to be.

Thirteen

Brooks

After Remi left Mom came out of the bedroom where she and Dad had been hiding.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“She made a cake,” I said and Mom laughed.

“Of course she did.”

Of course she did.

“And?” Mom asked coming over to look at said cake.

“And she wants things to go back to being platonic.” Mom raised an eyebrow and motioned to the cake to ask me if she could have a piece. I nodded and she cut one.

“You can’t un-ring the bell,” she said, sighing. “But you’re both young. And I think she’s saying one thing and feeling another.” I thought that too.

“But there’s nothing I can do. I can’t force her to be with me and I wouldn’t want to. I want her to want to be with me.” I certainly wanted to be with her. More than I’d wanted anything in a while.

“Well, then you’ve got to show her what she could have. Prove yourself to her. I know it isn’t easy, but I’ve seen the way she looks at you.” I cut myself another piece of cake.

“You’ll work it out¸ baby,” Mom said. “And if you don’t, then she isn’t the right girl. But I think she’ll get there. She’s a smart girl.” She was. Smart and funny and beautiful and sassy. The whole fucking package.

I ended up taking another piece of cake up with me when I went to bed. Or when I tried to go to bed. I’d had a hard time sleeping lately. My brain just wouldn’t shut off.

So I ate my cake and drew for a few hours. I smeared some frosting on the page by accident, then I left it. Somehow it worked.

I had to do something. Anything. There was so much energy buzzing inside me and I had no idea what to do with it. I stayed up for hours, drawing. I hadn’t had a binge like that in years. I’d done it a lot when I was younger. My parents only found out when I kept falling asleep in school. Instead of telling me not to do it, they just said to moderate it and save most of it for weekends.

****

I felt like crap the next morning because I’d only gotten a few hours of sleep, but it had been worth it. I’d woken up with charcoal on my hands and my eyes burning, but I was calm.

“Cake for breakfast?” Mom said when I came downstairs before going to work.

“Why not?” I said.

“No reason.”

It was just the two of us because Dad was sleeping in and Grayson was off with friends. Again.

“I think... I think I’m going to cut back on my hours at the store,” I said as Mom sipped her coffee.

“You are?”

“Yes.” That was the one thing I’d known when I woke up this morning. I needed to do something different. Something new. Something for me.

“I think that’s good a good idea. I also heard that the local gallery is taking submissions for their fall show,” she said, going to her bag and pulling out a business card.

“This is the woman who runs it. I just happened to run into her at the grocery store.” Sure she did.

But I took the card and slid it into my back pocket. Putting my art in a show would mean I’d have to get it professionally matted and framed, and figure out what I should charge for sales. I hadn’t wanted to tie art and money together, but that hadn’t worked out so well for me up until now. Why couldn’t I just try it? See if it worked and then if it didn’t, I never had to do it again.

Maybe it was Remi, maybe it was just frustration with my life, but I had an energy that I couldn’t remember having for a long time. Years, at least.

“I’ll think about it,” I said and she gave me a hug.

“I hope you do.”

****

I was distracted all day at the store, thinking about Remi, thinking about art, thinking about life. I got one text from Remi late that afternoon. I was relieved to hear from her.

Hey, how’s it going?

Casual. Friendly. Not what I wanted. But platonic contact was still contact.

Bored. You?

She typed out a few messages and then deleted them. Hm.

Pretty much same. I think... I need to get out of here. I need to go somewhere.

I knew exactly how she felt. I’d suggest we go on a road trip, but that would probably involve us staying the night somewhere and that might lead to not-friendly things happening.

So I didn’t mention it.

We could do something together again. You can pick. Anything.

I hated how desperate I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see her by any means necessary.

I don’t know...

I held my breath and waited.

Okay, fine. But no funny business. No eye-fucking. No groping. She was really laying down the law. I could follow those rules. Probably. Maybe not on the eye-fucking. I couldn’t look at her now without thinking of her naked.

Deal. Let me know when and I’ll pick you up.

It’s on.

I couldn’t help but smile. Even in a short text message exchange, I could feel it. If this wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was. Either things were going to work out, or she was going to rip me to pieces. There would be no in-between. Right now, I had no idea which way things were going to go, but I was going to fight like hell for her.

Starting now.

****

Remi texted me the next day 6:30. Be there.

When she came out of her house she had on a t-shirt, leather jacket and a swirly skirt. She always looked so gorgeous, no matter what. I got out to open the door for her, but she shook her finger at me.

“No, that’s something you do for girls you’re dating. Turn right around, buddy.” I glared at her, but went back and got into the truck as she hauled herself in and buckled her seatbelt.

“So, where are we going?” I asked and she pulled out her phone and hit something. The robotic GPS voice came on and told me to drive 500 feet and take a left.

“Oh, I see how it is,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, you don’t. But you will,” she said. She was practically vibrating with excitement. So cute. I was trying and failing not to notice.

“I’m scared,” I said and she gave me a heart-stopping smile.

“You should be.”

****

We made it out of Hope Harbor and headed toward the highway. I kept waiting for instructions to take an exit, but we just kept going. And going.

An hour later, we were still going.

“We’re not leaving the state, are we?” I asked. I was gonna run out of gas here pretty soon.

“Nope. We’re getting closer.” She’d kept the radio turned down low so I could hear the GPS, but she’d been low-key singing along the whole time. If she was trying to not seduce me, she was doing a poor job of it. Granted, there wasn’t much (if anything) she could do that wouldn’t make me want her.

The GPS finally directed me to an exit that would lead me into downtown Portland. After a few turns, the disembodied voice informed me that my destination was on my left.

The Portland Museum of Art.

Of course.

“I know it’s cliché, but I don’t care,” she said. “I figured we could walk through and then get burgers or something. There’s a place around here that makes them with macaroni and cheese inside and I’ve been dying to try them for ages.” That sounded perfect. And the fact that I got to do it with Remi made it even better.

I parked in a garage and we headed toward the museum. I wanted to take her hand, but it was against the rules. I had to shove my hands in my pockets and she wouldn’t even let me open the door for her. I wanted to set the rules on fire and burn them to the ground.

We bought our tickets (she wouldn’t let me pay) and then we headed into the main part of the gallery. They had a photography exhibit going, along with their regular collection.

“I’d hoped there was a charcoal exhibit going, but no such luck,” Remi said as we looked at the first painting, a Renoir.

“That’s fine. This... this is enough.” I felt the fire from the other night burning in my veins again. My hand clenched and unclenched, wishing for a brush or a bit of charcoal.

I realized Remi was watching me.

“What?” I said.

Remi

I’d never seen him like that and I knew I’d made the right decision to bring us here. I hadn’t told him yet, but there were a few pieces by Maine College of Art students here as well. My hope was that they’d inspire him to do more with his own art. If it made him this happy, then he should be doing it all the time.

Brooks glowed. I was so glad I got to witness it. As we moved from piece to piece, I looked at him more than the art because he was much more beautiful. I’d never really used that to describe a man before, but it was the only word I could think of to use for him right now.

It took us a while to work our way through the museum. The student work was in the last gallery.

“Oh,” he said when he saw the sign designating all the work as that of grad students.

“I thought you might appreciate a little inspiration,” I said, stopping myself from nudging his shoulder just in time. I’d made the no-touching rule and I was going to stick to it, dammit.

“Oh,” he said again, looking around. I stepped back and gave him some space, walking in the opposite direction from him. There were a few other people wandering around, chatting in low voices. Some of the work was... interesting and some of it was very, very good. I especially liked a few pieces that looked like they were ripped from a graphic novel. Very cool.

I made it around the room twice before Brooks had gone once. He took his time, studied everything from different angles, as if he was picking it apart, trying to figure out the technique and the artist’s intent. I loved watching him.

He finally turned to me, his eyes glowing.

“Thank you.”

“You’re totally welcome,” I said. I wanted to hug him. And kiss him. The want pulsed between us, but he stepped away from me.

“Are you hungry?” I said, my voice sounding weird in my ears.

“Yeah.” His voice was a little odd too. “Yeah, I am.”

We left the museum and walked to the restaurant. We ended up waiting fifteen minutes for a tiny table crammed into a corner.

“Do you mind if I order a drink?” I asked and he shook his head.

“Not at all.”

I got one of the house special drinks and Brooks ordered himself a Coke. Things were back to being awkward between us and I didn’t like it. Stupid sex. Stupid sex that had ruined a perfectly good relationship. Or whatever this was. A friendship was a relationship, right?

“So, what did you think?” I asked and he blinked at me a few times before he answered.

“It was amazing. I haven’t been to a gallery in a long, long time. I used to go whenever there was a new show at UMaine. I loved it and hated it at the same time.” He sort of smiled.

“I can imagine. Because you wanted it to be you.” He lifted one shoulder.

“I mean, I guess? It just seems so easy for everyone else.”

“I don’t think life is really easy for anyone. It only looks that way.” Our waiter came back and we ordered calamari as an appetizer, in addition to our burgers. I was probably as excited about the burger as he’d been about the art show. We both had our priorities.

“I don’t know,” he said, reaching for a piece of calamari.

“Yeah, me neither.” That time I got a real smile.

****

Brooks started talking about the art and I’d never seen him so animated. He was lit up again. I didn’t even understand half the stuff he was saying about forced perspective and the different materials the artists had used, but it didn’t matter. I just liked listening to him talk about something he was so clearly passionate about.

“You should go to art school,” I blurted out when I was halfway through my burger. It was pretty much the most amazing thing I’d ever eaten, but I didn’t know if I could finish it. The thing was huge. He picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup before he answered.

“I thought about it. But it’s too late. And I don’t even think I’d get in.” I shook my head.

“It’s never too late. Brooks, you’re not even twenty-five. There are people who go to college when they’re our parents’ ages. And people who are even older. And you don’t know if you’ll get in until you try.”

He shook his head.

“I hate it when you’re right. It’s really annoying.” I snorted and stole a fry off his plate.

“I’d say I was sorry, but I’m definitely not. Being right is fun. And you’re trying to flirt with me to change the subject.”

“Is it working?” I grabbed another fry.

“Just think about it. That’s all you have to do. Think about it. Won’t kill you.” Brooks took a deep breath.

“My mom gave me the card of a woman who runs a local gallery. They’re taking submissions. I’d have to get some sort of collection together and have everything framed and matted, which would be both expensive and a lot of work, but...” he trailed off.

“That would be amazing! You should totally do it. That way it won’t be just me and your family telling you how good you are.” He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even know if I’ll get in, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. I might just be art drunk right now. Who knows?” Art drunk. I liked that. I got dessert drunk all the time. It was totally a thing.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I said, picking up my burger again. I really wanted to finish this thing.

“I’m really glad we came here,” Brooks said as I shoved my burger in my face. I almost moaned as I ate it. Talk about a foodgasm.

“Me too,” I said through a mouthful. Cheese oozed out and got everywhere. I probably had it all over my face, but I gave no fucks.

He just laughed and handed me another napkin.

****

Brooks was speculative on the way back. We didn’t need the GPS this time so I got to turn up the radio as I shucked off my shoes and put them up on the dashboard.

“How did I do? With the platonic-ness,” he asked.

“Pretty good, I’d say. See? We can do this. Go back to the way things were before the other night.” He looked at me in a way that stabbed me in the chest.

“Yeah. Guess we can.” But I didn’t think either of us believed it. This little truce we had was temporary. Sooner or later one of us was going to break and I had no idea when or how, or what I was going to do about it.

After tonight, seeing him so enthralled with the art, I just couldn’t stop thinking about his face. I wish I’d captured it so I could show him. Should have taken a picture on my phone. I could have done it without him knowing, I was sure.

“You seem happy tonight,” I said.

“I think I am,” he replied. “I’d forgotten what it feels like.”

Fourteen

Brooks

I took three whole days off the next week. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that. Seriously. I spent one entire day with Remi and she took me shopping for art supplies and out for wings and beer.

The other two days I spent working. I drove around and found whatever inspired me, set up an easel, or got a chair, and drew or painted until I was so exhausted that I crashed into bed at night. I hadn’t contacted the woman at the gallery yet, but I was mentally getting there. I also sucked it up and opened an Etsy store. I found a company that could do prints of my work from digital images, so all I had to do was scan them and then submit the images. I figured if I made a little money, I could give some of it to my parents and help out. Even a little bit would be something. Plus, I could figure out if anyone would actually buy my damn art.

I wasn’t going to use or sell any of the drawings I’d done of Remi. Definitely not. That would mean I’d have to tell her about them and then she would know that I was totally and completely in love with her. Now would be the absolute worst timing for her to figure that out. I wanted to tell her, but not until she was ready, and she definitely wasn’t.

The platonic thing was working... sort of. Sometimes I had to practically sit on my hands not to touch her, and not kissing her when she was just so damn cute was a Herculean effort. I hoped it was as bad for her because I was really having a rough time. But I was gonna do it because if I held out, then maybe, maybe, things would work out between us.

I’d thought that my brothers and sister would hate me for asking them to work more hours, but no one said anything about it at dinner on Sunday. Things between Avery and me were still a little tense and we hadn’t really talked since the day when he’d stormed out of the store. We were going to have to make up eventually because it stressed Mom and Dad out when any of us were fighting with each other. In general, we didn’t fight a lot, but when we did, it was generally pretty intense.

“Hey, do you want to come out on the porch with me?” he said as I was helping clear the dishes from the table. Falyn, Ezra and Callan had already bailed and Dasen had brought Pearl over, so Mom and Dad were in the living room with the two of them. I could hear Pearl giggling over everything else.

I looked up at Avery. He didn’t look like he wanted to punch the shit out of me and he’d never do that here, so I figured I was safe.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, setting the dishes down.

“Hug it out,” Grayson said, giving us both a thumbs up. I messed his hair up as I walked by him.

I sat down on one of the chairs on the porch and Avery chose to stand.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“I just wanted to make sure that we were okay,” he said, shrugging. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him wearing jeans. They were probably designer, but still. He looked like my brother again, and not the polished version of himself he’d turned into. Years ago, when we were younger, we’d been super close. Being the two oldest had bonded us in a way that nothing else could. If I was being honest, I really fucking missed him. I missed the guy he used to be. I didn’t understand the one he was now.

“Yeah, I think so,” I said, standing up. “I talked to Mom and Dad and they told me about the mortgage and the money and everything. I just wish they would have told me.” He sighed.

“They didn’t even want to tell me. The only reason I knew was that I’d been watching their accounts. I took a lot of heat trying to finagle something to make sure they didn’t lose everything. I had to call in a few favors.” That didn’t actually surprise me. It was something I would have done if I’d been in his position.

“I bet,” I said, leaning against the porch railing. He joined me and we stood shoulder-to-shoulder.

“I’m sorry I sort of lost it. And I’m sorry I was up your ass about Remi. I was just so concerned that things were going to fall apart again after I’d worked so hard to glue them back together. We’re so close to losing everything and I spend most of my time worrying that we will and making contingency plans.” He ran his hand through his perfect hair, mussing it.

“I had no idea,” I said. What else was there to say? We’d both sort of been assholes.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Really.”

“Me too.”

There was a beat of silence.

“We need to start talking again. Really talking,” I said. “Mom and Dad shouldn’t have to handle everything, but between the two of us, we should be able to do something. If we start really talking again.” He nodded.

“You’re right. You’re right. Even when you don’t want to talk about money and the store, we could just hang out. Have a drink. You still haven’t seen my place since I moved in.” He was right. I hadn’t really seen him much outside of family dinners for years. That was on both of us.

“Well, I’ve got more time off now, so maybe we can make that happen next week.” Sooner was better than later to start repairing things. I’d fucked up with Avery and I was finally ready to admit that.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Just text me and let me know which night works for you. I’m pretty much free since I have no life outside of work.” He gave me a grim smile.

“You mean that suit isn’t working for you? How is that possible?” He chuckled.

“I guess I just... I’ve been so wrapped up in work and worrying about the store that I haven’t had the time. There have been a few dinners and drinks here and there, but nothing serious. I’m not that upset about it.” I didn’t really believe that.

“Speaking of girls, what’s up with you and Remi Wright?” I didn’t really want to go there.

“That’s a good question. We, ah, seemed to be heading down the right path, but then she kind of freaked out and now we’re back to square one. She wants to keep things platonic.” He snorted.

“And how’s that working for you?”

“Not very well.” Huge understatement.

“You might want to do something about it, if you’re miserable.” I groaned.

“I don’t want to freak her out. I figure if I can give her enough space to see what she really wants, then she’ll come to me. Or not. It can really only go one of two ways.” We’d either be together, or not. Right now we were sort of in-between.

“Sounds like fun.”

“Not at all.” He looked at me and smiled and I remembered that he was my brother and I loved the bastard.

“Come on, let’s hug it out,” I said, holding my arms out. We hugged and then went back in the house where Pearl was singing for a rapt audience.

“I’m glad you two worked things out. I’ve been worried about you,” Mom said in my ear when I sat down on the couch next to her.

“I know. But we’re figuring it out. Promise.” I reached out and squeezed her hand and she kissed me on the cheek.

“I knew you would.”

****

I ended up emailing the woman from the gallery, Carol Holland, because I was too nervous to call her. She sent back a response two hours later, requesting a time for her to survey my work and judge whether she could use it in an upcoming show. The gallery would also take a commission and I’d have to hang all my pictures myself. I’d expected that, so I sent her a response saying that was fine, along with times I was available and my cell phone number.

Then I texted Remi.

Talked to the gallery woman. Officially freaking the fuck out.

She ended up just calling me.

“Aw, it’s so cute that you’re nervous. You’re gonna be fine, Brooks.” I didn’t feel that way. There was dread in the pit of my stomach and I wanted to email Ms. Holland back and say “forget it.”

“I know it’s stupid to be this stressed about a local gallery, but I’ve just never done this. My last actual art show was in high school and I didn’t tell my parents about it because I didn’t want anyone to know. They found out, of course, and my entire family showed up. I was so pissed when they got there.” And relieved later. There was another girl in my class who was a really talented potter and none of her family showed up. I’d never forgotten the way she stood near her display and looked so sad and every time the door opened. The hope on her face that the person walking in would be someone for her.

I’d looked over at my family, making way too much noise and annoying everyone, and knew that I was actually lucky as hell. My family might drive me absolutely insane, but they were always there to pick me up if I fell, even if I didn’t want them to be.

“I’m really proud of you. You’ve done so much lately and it’s really awesome to see.” My heart skipped a beat. I could feel the words that I had been wanting to say for ages on the back of my tongue, but I couldn’t let them out. If I told her I loved her, it would ruin everything.

“Thanks, Remi. That means a lot. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Aw, shucks. Does this mean I get 10 percent of what you make? As an inspiration fee?” I burst out laughing.

“We’ll see. Maybe I’ll just plan some more elaborate outings for us.”

“Ooooohhhhh, that might be nice. Would they involve international travel?”

“Now you’re pushing it. But I might be able to spring for a helicopter.” We bantered back and forth like that for a while and I couldn’t stop smiling. And then she dropped a bomb.

“I think I found an apartment.”

Remi

I knew it probably wasn’t going to go over well. But keeping things from him wasn’t my style.

There was silence on the other end as he processed and I was quickly realizing I had picked a shitty time to tell him. Too late now.

“You did?” he asked, his voice a little choked.

“Yeah, it’s in Portland. I haven’t been there in a while and I forgot what a cool city it is until we went to the art museum. So I’ve been looking for places and I found one that’s really nice and I think I can actually afford it. I haven’t done anything about it yet, but I really need to get out my parents’ house, you know?” I had to make him understand that staying with my parents just wasn’t an option. It was going to crush me emotionally. It already had been.

And Portland was a great city for millenials, so there was that too. I didn’t think I’d have any issues making friends or finding a job while I worked on getting my baking business off the ground. I pictured a little hole-in-the-wall bakery in a brick building in the Old Port where people would line up out the door just to buy one cupcake or cookie. Maybe that was a little ambitious, but I didn’t care. If you didn’t have goals, then you would never achieve anything.

“Yeah, I know. I feel the same way. So, when are you thinking of making all this happen?” He was trying to be upbeat, but I could tell he was freaking out. And he probably wasn’t all that happy with me.

“Not right away. I still need to figure a lot of stuff out, you know? It wouldn’t be until the fall, probably. I want to get moved in before winter so I don’t have to move during a snowstorm.” He coughed a few times.

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, fine. Just choked on... air.”

I laughed.

“Been there, done that. So, you’re not mad at me for moving? I mean, Portland’s not on the other side of the world. You can come and see me and I can come and see you. I’m sure my parents are going to demand regular visits.” Little barbs kept lodging themselves in my heart as I said those words. They felt fake. They felt wrong. I said them anyway.

“Right. Exactly. We can still see each other.” His words sounded hollow and I hated it. Why the fuck did I tell him? Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut?

I always did the wrong things. No wonder I couldn’t keep friends or a guy or anything in my life. I was destined to fail.

I got off the phone with Brooks as quick as I could and then groaned.

“Everything okay?” Dad poked his head through my partially open door.

“Yup. Just... screwing my life up again. No big deal.” He came in, looking around as if something was going to jump out and bite him. I couldn’t remember the last time my dad had voluntarily entered my room.

He finally sat on the edge of my bed. I sat up against my pillows and sighed.

“What happened?” he asked. I could tell I was in for a Dad Talk. Somehow I’d managed to avoid them since I got home.

“I want to tell you, but then you’ll tell Mom and she’ll murder me so...” I trailed off and he chuckled before he got up and closed the door.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t tell your mother every last thing. Some things I know are just going to upset her, so I keep them to myself. Is this one of those things?” I nodded.

“Okay, lay it on me.” He motioned for me to go ahead.

I took a deep breath.

“I want to move to Portland and eventually have my own bakery. I found an apartment and I’ve saved up enough money for the deposit and rent until I can get on my feet.” I’d known that money was going to be the biggest reason my parents would throw in my way as a reason for not going, so I’d been saving every damn cent I could. I wanted to be Responsible. With a capital R.

“Oh. I had a feeling that was what you were going to say. I knew you couldn’t stay here forever. You’ve got to live your own life. Your way. I know your mother had a lot of dreams for you, but those dreams didn’t fit the woman you became.” There was something thick in the back of my throat and I could feel tears starting to prick in the corners of my eyes.

“And I love the woman you are. I’m very proud to have such a talented daughter. You’re not a screw-up. You just tried a few different paths and found out that they weren’t for you. Plenty of people stick with a bad path their whole life because they’re scared to try something new. Something unknown. But you’re not scared. You’re brave.” Okay, crying. Definitely crying.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, sniffing and using the corners of one of my pillows to dry up my tears.

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.” He held his arms out and hugged me tight. For a moment it was like being a little girl again when I’d fallen off my bike and he came to comfort me. My dad had always been the more affectionate parent. He patted my back and I tried to get my shit together.

“If you want, I could come with you to look at the place. I don’t think you should commit to anything without seeing it first.”

I pulled back and raised an eyebrow.

“And where would we tell Mom we’re going?” He patted me on the shoulder.

“You don’t worry about that. I can handle her. But I think you had something more on your mind than just moving.” Crap, I thought we were going to get out of here without discussing Brooks.

“How did you know that?”

“Dad senses,” he said, tapping his forehead.

“I told Brooks and he’s not that happy about it.” Saying his name actually hurt.

“I wanted to ask how things were going between you two, but I didn’t want to pry.” I also had the feeling he’d stopped Mom from prying as well

“Yeah, well. I don’t know what’s happening with that. We’ve sort of gone back to being kind of friends, but I don’t think that’s what either of us wants. But I can’t... I can’t be with him. He’s going to stay here. His whole family is here and he’s running the store and everything and if I stay with him I just know I’m going to end up having a bunch of kids and never doing anything.” Wow, got all that out in one breath. Who even knew that was possible.

Silence reigned as Dad thought about his answer.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, because that wouldn’t be right. But I think you need to figure out what your priorities are. What you value the most and what you’re willing to do to keep it. And who says you can’t have everything?” The Universe? Common sense? My past experiences with life so far?

“I don’t know,” I moaned, hugging onto a pillow as if it was going to tell me all the answers.

“Oh, I think you do. You’re a smart cookie.” He got up and I laughed at him calling me a “cookie.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, Rem.”

****

I texted Brooks later to apologize for telling him about the apartment thing. I felt like I was trying to steal his thunder or something. He messaged back that it was fine and it wasn’t a big deal.

Yeah, I totally believed him. But there wasn’t much I could do now. Unless I wanted to tell him “lol, never mind” about the moving, which I wasn’t going to do. I was not changing my plans for a stupid boy. Even if that stupid boy had a smile that made me weak in the knees and could give head like no one I’d ever experienced. Not even then.

I was sticking to my guns. I was getting the fuck out of Hope Harbor, even if it killed me.

Fifteen

Brooks

Carol Holland emailed me back and we agreed to meet the following Tuesday. I had already taken a few of my pieces in to be matted and framed and everything else was all set to go.

“Are you nervous?” Remi asked me on Monday night as we were baking. I couldn’t look at chocolate without thinking about throwing her on the counter again. Of course tonight she was making her double chocolate chip cookies so it was all I could smell. And her. The scent of baked goods would always be linked with Remi for me. I couldn’t smell cookies fresh from the oven without thinking of the girl with the purple hair. I wondered how long that was going to last.

She was getting out. I knew she would eventually. I’d known she was getting out when this had all started. I’d told myself I would be okay with it, but then I’d done the impressively stupid thing of falling in love with her. And now...

Now I just wanted tell her that I loved her and tell her that I wanted her to stay. That we could be happy. That she could open a little bakery here and we could get a house. It could work. I could see it.

“Little bit,” I said, answering her question. “I mean, I have no idea what kind of competition I’m up against. There are a lot of people painting pictures of boats and lobster traps around here.” Understatement. You couldn’t throw a rock without hitting a watercolor of a seagull or a bunch of boats or something. Or a lighthouse. So predictable.

“I bet. But even your paintings and drawings of those things would be better.” Did she have to do that? Did she have to give me compliments that made my heart feel like it was going to smash its way out of my chest and against the wall?

“Thank you, Remington,” I said. I liked saying her full name because I knew she liked it while trying not to like at the same time. Her cheeks always flushed a little. So fucking cute.

“You’re welcome, Brooks.” We moved around each other with ease in the kitchen now. There was a routine and sometimes we didn’t talk much, so absorbed in our work. Her sales were consistent and she’d been taking more and more orders for parties and baseball games and birthdays. She had more demand than she could keep up with, actually. Remi really needed to be in an industrial kitchen and to be baking all the time, not just a few nights a week.

After we finished all the packing of the goods, we did the dishes together.

“So, have you gone to look at the apartment yet?” I wanted to support her, I really did. I wanted her to have what she wanted. I also wanted to be one of the things she wanted. Until that point, I’d do whatever I could to be there for her. Even if it killed me on the inside.

“Uh, no. But my dad said he’d go with me, if I wanted him to. And he promised that he wouldn’t tell my mom, but we’ll see how long that lasts. My mom has a way of finding things out when you don’t want her to know.” She rolled her eyes and handed me a bowl to rinse.

“I’ll go with you, if he can’t.” I couldn’t believe the words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t reel them back. Too late now.

“Oh, really?” she seemed shocked.

“Yeah, really. So you don’t have to worry about dealing with your mom. We could make another day of it.” Hanging out with her in Portland wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It had worked out last time. I could suck it up for one day.

“Um, yeah. I guess? That would actually really get me out of a jam. Then my dad wouldn’t have to lie and I could live in my house in peace for as long as it takes for my mom to find out that I’m moving.” She laughed a little and I tried to join her.

“Seriously, thank you,” she said, wiping her hands off and touching my shoulder. I looked down at her hand. She seemed to realize that she’d violated the “no touching” rule and jerked her hand back.

“Sorry.” Now I did laugh.

“You don’t have to ever be sorry for touching me, Remi. Ever.” She gazed up at me and the need to kiss her overwhelmed me. I started to think it was getting to her to because she was subtly pushing herself up to be closer to my mouth. And then she blinked and stepped away.

Moment gone.

“Yeah, so, um, maybe on Friday we can go to the... the thing?” she said, her face going red as she stared into the sink.

“Sure. We can go on Friday to the thing.” She glared up at me, her face red.

****

My meeting with Carol went better than I could have hoped. Probably a few years older than my mom, she gushed when I brought in two of my best charcoal drawings. The tree in my parents’ backyard and a scene I’d drawn of an old woods road. I also showed her a painting of sunlight filtering through leaves.

“This is really excellent work. I’m guessing you went to art school?” I shook my head.

“No, pretty much self-taught since high school.” She studied me from behind a set of glasses that had a chain that looped around her neck.

“Impressive. Yes, I definitely think we can find you a place in our next show.” I could feel myself grinning and I tried to stifle it. Carol and I walked around the gallery and talked about the sizes of my pieces and how many I’d like to put in the show and the best place to hang them. It was so nice to talk to someone about the technicalities of everything. I left the meeting buzzing with excitement.

I’d also gotten a few orders already in my store, so I was going to have to hurry up and mail those prints out. Seeing a few dollars in my online account was shocking, but thrilling at the same time. It was a great way to sell my work without anyone knowing I was the one who made it.

I headed home and found Remi Wright sitting in the living room having coffee with my parents.

“Oh, hey,” I said, taking in the scene. I’d had no idea she was going to be here. She hadn’t said anything. What was she doing here?

“Hey, I just came over to thank your parents for letting me use the store’s kitchen. I brought a cake.” Of course she brought a cake.

“Great,” I said, not sure what other response I could make.

“How did it go?” Mom asked. It was a little weird, standing there with my parents and Remi looking at me expectantly. Surreal.

“It went really well. She wants me to be in the show,” I said and Mom leapt off the couch to embrace me, followed by Dad and then, to my surprise, Remi.

“I’m okay with violating the rules for this,” she said in my ear before she let me go.

“This calls for cake,” Remi said, heading into the kitchen. Mom gestured for me to follow her. Subtle.

Remi was pulling out plates as if she lived here. Surreal. Again.

“I’m so happy for you. I knew you’d get it. I knew it,” she said, beaming. Her smile was totally worth all the fear and doubt. I hated how much my happiness was tied to her reactions. She had me in the palm of her hand and she had no idea.

I pulled out some silverware and handed her the silver cake-cutter. It had been a wedding gift when my parents got married.

“Thanks. Now the suspense is over, I feel like I was making a big deal out of nothing. I saw some of the other stuff in that gallery and...” I trailed off and shuddered.

“No offense to the people who own the gallery. I’m guessing maybe they just don’t get a lot of submissions. And I know art is supposed to be objective, but some of that was just shit.” Remi snorted and handed me two plates of cake. She took the other two.

“I can imagine. It’s not like you’re living in some sort of art capital of the world. This is just plain old Hope Harbor.” We sat back down in the living room and ate the cake (red velvet this time) and I realized how comfortable Remi seemed with my parents. Especially my mom. I knew she had a hard time with her own, so maybe it was nice to talk to a mom-figure who wasn’t on her case all the time.

“You are welcome any time, Remi. I mean it. Anyone who brings baked goods is definitely someone I want stopping by,” Mom said, giving Remi a hug.

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Brooks.” She gave me a little wave and left. I wanted to follow her and tell her to come back. Come back and stay.

“She’s smitten with you,” Dad said, looking up from his book. He had the news on as well and Mom was flipping through a magazine.

“You think?” I asked and Mom and Dad shared one of those parental looks that I’d seen hundreds of times before.

“She is. Very,” Mom said. “She’s a very nice girl. I’d be happy to see her as a permanent part of your life.” Well, that wasn’t going to happen because she was moving and I was going to fucking help her go.

“That’s probably not going to happen.” Mom smiled at Dad.

“We’ll see,” she said and he nodded.

****

It was raining when I picked up Remi on Friday. She dashed down the porch and hurried to my truck. Of course she didn’t have a raincoat on. Instead she had a leather jacket with a hood.

“Shit, it’s gross out,” she said, shivering as I turned the heater for her.

“You still want to go?” I asked as she put her fingers on the vents to dry them.

“Yeah, I have an appointment, so I don’t really want to bail on it.” Part of me hoped she’d just say “screw it” and we could just spend the day in Portland, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen.

“Right,” I said and pulled out of her driveway, turning my windshield wipers on high. She flipped on the radio. I might as well have her redo my presets, because she always changed whatever station I currently had it set on.

“Hey, can we stop for snacks?” she asked. Remi always made herself comfortable in my truck, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet up on the dashboard. Her toes were painted neon green.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I have to get gas anyway.”

“Cool.”

We didn’t talk for most of the ride, but Remi and I had spent so much time together that it wasn’t an awkward silence. I just couldn’t fathom a life where I didn’t bake with her several times a week. I didn’t even want to think about it.

When we stopped for gas, she got enough snacks for a three-day trip.

“Hungry?” I asked as she came back to the truck with an armful.

“I’m PMS-ing, so sue me.” I burst out laughing. I loved that she had no filter and just said whatever the hell was in her head. I hadn’t met anyone quite like that. At least not with purple hair and the most gorgeous chest.

“Works for me,” I said as she busted open a can of Pringles and held the tube out to me. I grabbed a few and crammed them in my mouth.

****

The apartment was in the heart of the city on the third floor of a brick building. We found parking a few streets away and walked to the apartment without saying a word. She’d seemed so excited before and now she didn’t. Even though the rain had stopped and the sun had come out. Everything smelled wet and fresh, even the pavement.

I let her go first as we walked up the front steps and the door opened to reveal a smiling woman in an impeccably cut suit and holding a leather-bound folder. She didn’t look much other than me or Remi.

“Are you Remi Wright?” she asked, looking from me to Remi and back. I guessed she didn’t know if Remi was a girl or a boy.

“That’s me, hi,” Remi said, holding her hand out. “Are you Leslie?” The woman nodded and shook Remi’s hand.

“Oh, this is a friend of mine, Brooks,” Remi said, gesturing to me. I shook Leslie’s hand as well. It was all very professional.

“Okay, great. So I’ll take you up,” Leslie said, leading us into the building. It was nice, as far as I could tell. No chipped paint or sagging stairs or shitty carpeting. Remi’s potential new place was a second-floor walk-up, which was going to be fun when she had to haul groceries, but she could handle it.

“So this is it,” Leslie said, unlocking a door with the number three on it.

“Oh,” Remi said as we walked in. Leslie started doing her thing, telling us about when the building was constructed and all the updates that had been done, but I tuned her out to watch Remi take in the space. She walked from the small kitchen to the living room area with huge windows that let in tons of sunlight. The large master room in back had a bathroom and a brand new tub.

I watched her face light up as she walked from room to room and I could see her living here. The space was a little quirky, the rooms a little off-center, the light fixtures all old-fashioned and the floors hardwood, worn soft by hundreds of footsteps.

“So, what do you think?” Leslie asked after we’d gone through the entire place, detail by detail.

“It’s beautiful,” Remi said and finally looked at me. “What do you think?” She directed her question at me.

“I think it’s amazing and I could definitely see you living here,” I said, telling her the truth even though it made my heart feel like it was fucking shattering.

This apartment was going to take her away from me. This city and its opportunities were going to take her away and I had to let her go. She needed to be here. I could see that now, watching her walk through the apartment. Remi deserved this.

She deserved to be happy, and I wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.

“But I think I need to think about it some more,” Remi said, which surprised me. I’d thought she was going to sign on the dotted line today. She pivoted on her toes and looked at me.

“Well, that’s fine, but I just want to caution you that this place is in high demand and it will go quick, so if you want it, don’t wait,” Leslie said and I wanted to roll my eyes. They always said stuff like that, to scare you into committing.

“Right,” Remi said, and blinked as if she’d been in a trance.

We went back downstairs and shook hands with Leslie again and promised to be in touch.

“Okay, what did you really think?” I asked when we were back on the street again.

“It was beautiful. I really, really liked it. And I could afford it, which is the crazy thing.” She slowed her walk and I matched her pace.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” I said and she gave me a wry grin.

“But I don’t know if I’m ready for this. The last time I tried to live on my own, I crashed and burned. What if I crash and burn with this? A person can only screw up so many times before they give up completely. Brooks, I can’t fail again and end up back with my parents.” She shuddered as we walked out of the residential area and toward the shops and so forth.

“You’re not gonna fail, Remi.” She gave me a look. I didn’t know what to say to make her believe me.

“I wish you could believe in yourself as much as I do,” I said and that stopped her right in her tracks.

Remi

How? How did he always say the right things at the right times? I was definitely going to miss that when I moved. I’d have to call him on the phone and have him give me pep talks. The apartment was beautiful. Even nicer than I thought it would be. Plus, I could afford it, which was the absolute best part. I’d thought I was going to end up with a complete shithole of a place, but somehow it looked like things were going to work out. At least if I didn’t wait. When I woke up this morning, I’d had every intention of taking the place today if I liked it. But when I’d seen Brooks’ face, I’d had to fumble and say I had to think about it. I shouldn’t have brought him with me. He was just a reminder of what I’d be leaving behind in Hope Harbor. Just about the only thing I’d miss. Should have brought Dad.

“Why didn’t you decide to take it?” he asked, as if he’d been reading my mind.

“Just didn’t feel right,” I said as we walked toward a Starbucks.

“You want to get some coffee?” He nodded and I let him hold the door open for me.

****

We took our time wandering around Portland, stopping in any shop that struck our fancy, including one that sold all sorts of flavors of popcorn. Brooks and I waited in line for the famous potato donuts (UNBELIEVABLY AMAZING) and strolled by the water. Neither of us talked about me moving, or anything serious. Just stupid shit that you could talk about with someone you’d grown close with. I kept looking up at him and realizing just how much I...

No. I wasn’t going to think the word because if I thought it, that would make it real. I couldn’t be in, um, more than like with Brooks. That was just not allowed to happen. So I tried not to think about it and the more I tried not to think about it, the more I was thinking about it.

“You okay?” he asked because I’d been too distracted by thoughts that I was trying to run from.

“Yup. Just thinking about a bunch of stuff.” I knew he didn’t believe me, but he let it go.

“Come on, let’s go have a drink and some fried clams,” he said, pulling me toward a restaurant that jutted out over the water. The two of us sat outside on the deck and drank summer ale and had fried clams and fries with ketchup.

“It wouldn’t suck living here,” he said.

“You thinking about up and moving? Stalker,” I said, trying to make a joke so I could ignore the pounding in my heart.

“No, just thinking. I mean, it could never happen because I can’t leave my family, but it’s still something to think about. I guess.” He frowned.

“You’re allowed to have dreams of your own, Brooks. Outside of the ones that your parents have for you. I couldn’t live my life on my parents’ terms. I don’t know many people who can.” I pushed the last few fries toward him.

“But where does family obligation come in? How can I justify leaving everything just because I want to do something else? How can I look my parents in the eye and tell them that I value ME more than them?” I didn’t have an answer for that. Mostly because I guess I didn’t understand that complete and total loyalty. Sure, I loved my parents, but I wasn’t going to compromise my life for them. They might ask, but I would be okay with putting myself first.

“From what I know of your parents, they want to put you first, too.” His mom, definitely. What an amazing woman. I almost wished she was my mom. Almost, because then Brooks would be my brother and that would just be awkward.

Besides. His mom was the one who let me sneak up to his room and take pictures of his art to submit to a professor at the Maine College of Art that I’d been emailing with. There was some vague connection with my parents, so I’d used that as an in to talk with him. All I wanted to know was if Brooks submitted his work, would he have a shot of getting in? I was still waiting to hear back. Until then, I was keeping my lips zipped.

He was gonna be so pissed.

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a groan. “It’s just so hard. I don’t want to be selfish.” No matter how many times I told him and his parents told him to put himself first, he wasn’t going to do it until he was ready.

“Do what you need to do. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” He looked out at the ocean and the wind played with his hair. Brooks Benson was a very attractive man and it was constantly distracting.

“I hope so. I’m just scared that I’m going to fuck things up.” I laughed and he drained his beer.

“Who isn’t?”

He chuckled.

“Good point.”

****

Brooks and I hung out at the restaurant and watched the sun set over the water. It really was beautiful. Sometimes when you lived in Maine, you forgot because you saw it all the time. And then it would hit you that you pretty much lived in a postcard one hundred percent of the time.

“Your hair looks gorgeous in the light,” Brooks said, picking up a strand of hair off my shoulder and holding it up. I didn’t admonish him for touching my hair because I was too busy staring at him and wanting to kiss him. It was a real problem.

“Thanks,” I said, tucking it behind my ear.

We both shared a look and I thought he was going to lean over and kiss me. But he didn’t.

I still woke up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and thinking about how he’d touched me and how our bodies had fit together so well. I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t want to fuck him again. And again. Until I couldn’t walk.

Wasn’t going to happen. If I let him touch me like that again, it would be all over. I would just absolutely fall off the edge of the cliff. I was currently teetering on the edge, but I could probably still pull myself back if I tried hard enough. If I wanted it enough.

I thought back to what Dad had said about figuring out what my priorities were. I’d been thinking about it a lot and hadn’t come up with a solution. I just didn’t know. Brooks smiled at me and the sun fired up his hair. There were very subtle red highlights in it that I’d never noticed before.

Distracting.

Being with him made me think about all kinds of things that I’d never really considered before. I wasn’t exactly a fan of it, so I looked back out at the water and sighed.

“You ready to go?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah,” I said, getting up and feeling an uncomfortable twisting in my stomach that I couldn’t ignore.

Brooks Benson was ruining my plans.

****

We were walking back to the truck when we found IT. It being the cutest little narrow storefront that was for lease. Brooks spotted it first.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my arm. “Look.” I did, finding dusty windows. I pressed my face to the glass and used my hands to block out the light so I could see inside.

“Oh, hello,” I said.

“It would make a great bakery, wouldn’t it?” Brooks said, pressing his face against the glass too.

“It might.” The space was completely stripped down to the brick walls, but it had high ceilings, good light and a nice location between a store that sold kitchen items and another that sold cards.

“But I could never afford it. Not now,” I said. I looked up and wondered just how much they’d want for it. A lot, I was guessing.

Brooks was fiddling with his phone and not paying attention to me, so I stepped away and started walking again.

“Maybe someday,” Brooks said.

“Someday,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

****

I fell asleep in his truck on the way back and woke up when he was carrying me inside the house. I could hear Brooks talking to Mom and Dad. I kept my eyes shut and tried to even my breathing so they’d believe I was still sleeping. I didn’t want to deal with all three of them at this particular moment.

Brooks carried me into my room and set me down on my bed. I had to open my eyes at that point.

“Hey,” he said, brushing some of my hair out of my eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for carrying me in,” I said, blinking at him.

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” he said and then leaned down and brushed his lips across my forehead in the lightest of touches. Not even a kiss. Just a touch.

He stood up and left my room before I could say anything. I closed my eyes, but Mom chose that moment to walk in and ask me what was going on with Brooks.

“I don’t know, Mom, we’re just hanging out,” I said through a yawn.

“That definitely doesn’t look like just hanging out, Remington Rose.” Oh my God, I did not want to be doing this right now. Not at all.

“Mom, seriously, can we talk about this tomorrow, please? I’m still, like, half asleep.” I yawned again. It had been a long day and my sleep had been interrupted by thoughts of Brooks lately, so I was exhausted.

She sighed and crossed her arms.

“Fine. But we are talking about this, because I don’t want you stringing that boy along if you’re not going to commit. That’s not fair. If he’s not the one you want, you’re taking up time where you could be dating someone else.” Jesus fuck I was going to kill her.

“Mom, seriously.” I opened my eyes and sat up. “I am not having this conversation with you right now. The end. I will talk with you about it tomorrow.” I wasn’t going to avoid talking to her, but right now I just wanted to get some goddamn sleep.

“Fine,” she snapped and stormed out.

“I’ll talk with her,” Dad said, ducking his head in.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said. I gave him a little wave and he closed the door behind him. I got myself upright and pulled off my clothes and shoes and shut off the light.

The last thing I thought of was the way my blood burned when Brooks kissed me on the forehead.

****

I slept until ten the next morning, and woke feeling like I had finally caught up on all the sleep I’d missed for so many days. I hauled myself out of bed and went right for a shower before heading out into the kitchen. Mom and Dad were sitting and talking. Probably about me, seeing as how they shut up when I walked into the room. I grabbed a muffin and a cup of coffee.

“So, we gonna have the Brooks chat now?” I asked, pouring myself a cup from the pot and then sitting down in the third chair.

“I’m just concerned for you, Remi. That’s all. This boy is clearly taken with you and I don’t know why you’re holding him off, unless you don’t like him.” How was I going to explain this in a way that she could understand?

“I know, Mom. But it’s complicated. We’re just... we’re friends for now. That’s all.” She started to argue and I was ready to yell back, but Dad took her hand.

“Let’s not pressure her. Remi is a big girl and she can make her own decisions. If she’s not running off and marrying a boy she’s barely started seeing, I’m okay with that. She’s still young. Let her be young.” Mom wanted to argue, but she couldn’t take two of us, so she just made huffing noises and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, then,” I said, taking my muffin and my coffee out to the porch. That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I had the feeling it wasn’t the last time that Mom was going to ask me about Brooks. I was going to have to get used to it, at least until I could move.

When I first got back, thinking about moving was the one thing keeping me going. Every time I thought about it, I got excited and it helped relieve the stress of dealing with my mom. But now...

I just wasn’t so sure anymore.

Brooks Goddamn Benson.

Sixteen

Brooks

Taking Remi to the apartment messed me up for days. I couldn’t talk to her about it because that would be admitting it was really happening. I didn’t want to stop her from going, but...

I didn’t want her to go.

I spent one of my days off the next week at home helping Mom around the house with chores that Dad couldn’t manage anymore and packing up a bunch of prints. I’d sold more than I ever though was possible and at this rate, I was going to have some extra cash on hand.

“How’s everything with Remi?” she asked. Of course she asked. I’d been giving her updates on Remi so Mom knew all about her moving and how I felt about it.

“The same. She’s leaving and that’s that,” I said, getting on a ladder so I could change some of the burned-out lights in the kitchen.

“Hm,” Mom said and I looked down as I handed her the blown-out bulb and she passed me a fresh one.

“What sound does that mean?” I asked as I screwed in the new bulb and it flared to life.

“It means that it isn’t over until it’s over.” I got down and dusted off my hands.

“I don’t want to scare her into going even sooner.” I could absolutely picture that in my head. Me blurting out that I loved her, Remi freaking out, and then hearing the next day that she had packed up her car in the night and was gone. Wouldn’t surprise me at all.

“But if you never tell her, she’ll never know. And then you’ll always think about it. Always regret it.” Yeah, that sounded great and all, but everything wasn’t up to me.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“I know, baby. Love is the scariest thing there is. But if you can grab it and hold onto it, it’s the best thing. The very best.” I gave her a hug.

“Thanks, Mom.” This was something that Remi and I were going to have to figure out together. And I was either going to have to tell her, or not.

Tell her.

Don’t tell her.

I just didn’t know what to do.

So I went up to my room and spent the rest of the day drawing angry things with charcoal. I didn’t feel much better when I was done. I was frustrated. And stuck.

Something was going to have to give and soon.

At least I had my art to focus on. I was steadily building up a collection and had gotten several more pieces matted and framed. Somehow my mom had found spaces for them on the already-crowded walls.

I had so much in my room that I could probably cover the walls of several houses. There was one small charcoal drawing of stones on the beach and for some reason it made me think of Remi. Granted, almost everything made me think of her, but still. I got it framed and then wrapped it in tissue paper and brought it to the store with me on the next night we were baking together.

I just needed the right moment to give it to her. And for her not to freak out when I did.

Remi seemed distracted when she came in, barely giving me a hello before she headed back to the kitchen and pulled out all her ingredients, slamming them down on the counter. Guess my gift was gonna have to wait.

“You okay,” I asked, coming back and putting on a fresh apron.

“Yeah, fine,” she said, getting out some of her bowls. Her forehead was all creased and I knew her well enough to know that there was something definitely wrong.

“Want to try that again? People who are fine usually don’t slam things around,” I said, leaning my elbows on the counter. She gave me a withering look.

“Fine. I’m not fine. I’m not fine because my mom is up my ass about you and I’m tired of hearing about it. Why can’t she just leave me the fuck alone?” She slammed down a measuring cup so hard that it skittered off the counter and onto the floor.

“Fuck!” she said and I walked around the counter to help her out.

“Hold up,” I said, picking up the cup and taking her arm. “Let’s just take a second.” She glared up at me.

“This is all your fault. You and your stupid smile and your stupid hair and your stupid words. Damn you, Brooks Benson.” I thought she was going to punch me, but then she jumped on me instead and I found myself being thrown backwards as I struggled to catch her at the same time as she attacked my lips with hers.

This time neither of us took our time. My hands ripped and tore at her clothes and she was just as ferocious with mine. There were definite ripping sounds as we got each other undressed. I had just enough brainpower left to remember to get a condom from my wallet (I’d put it in there after the last time; just in case) so we didn’t make any mistakes. I hauled her up on the counter and pushed the baking supplies aside. We’d clean up later. Right now I needed to be touching her and tasting her and inside her.

“No foreplay, fuck me now,” she said as I started to kiss down her neck. I’d planned on going down on her like last time, but her wish was my command. I handed her the condom and she put it on, her hands shaking a little. I grabbed the back of her neck and put the other arm around her back as I thrust into her.

“Oh, fuck,” she said, her eyes shuttering closed. She must have been thinking about this for a while, because she was already wet.

“More,” she demanded and I gave her what she wanted, hard and fast. She came once, so fast that I didn’t even realize what was happening until she cried out and shuddered. I was determined to make it happen again, so I slowed down a little to let her recover and then started again. I tried to kiss her, but we were both so out of control that it didn’t exactly work.

I felt myself getting close, so I slid a hand between us to get her there faster and we came at the same time, and it was like a hurricane blowing through us.

We both shuddered in the aftermath, our skin damp with sweat.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to do that,” I panted and she weakly smacked me on the chest.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, they were your rules, Remi,” I said, pulling out and stepping back from her. She propped herself up one her elbows. Her hair was all over the place and her skin was flushed. So beautiful.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, sitting all the way up. I went to dispose of the condom and clean myself up. When I came back she was still naked, but she was standing and looked deep in thought.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Sure. Why not? I just fucked you, again, when I told myself I wasn’t going to, but sure, things a peachy fucking keen.” Guess she was still mad.

“Do you want me to go?” I asked. I would put my clothes on and walk out if that was what she wanted.

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” she said, moaning and covering her face with her hands.

“Look, let’s put our clothes on and talk about this. Just talk. We need to talk.” I put my underwear, pants and shirt back on and she did the same. We could have a discussion without ripping each other’s clothes off again.

Maybe.

I went to the office and grabbed the two chairs Avery and I had sat in when we’d talked. I motioned for her to take one and I took the other, rolling away from her so there was space between us.

“Okay, let’s talk,” I said. “Do you want to start?” This felt weirdly like a counseling session or something.

“Not really. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we just fucked again in this kitchen and we have never done it in an actual bed.” I couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of me. That would be the first thing she thought of.

I loved the way her brain worked.

“We could, if you wanted to. I don’t think my parents would mind.” She gave me a look like I’d said something stupid.

“Seriously? I am not fucking you with your parents in the living room drinking tea. There is no way.”

“Well, how about your place? If that’s what we want to do. We need to talk about some other things first before we do that again.” As much as I wanted to tell her we could just go on being “friends” who had sex, it wasn’t going to work. For either of us. Definitely not for me. And apparently not for her either.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, looking at her nails.

“Too bad,” I said and her head snapped up. “I know you have all these plans to get the fuck out of this town and have your bakery and you think that being with someone like me is going to ruin that. That I’m going to tie you to this town and you’re going to suffocate and never get out.” I’d been holding these words in for ages and I couldn’t anymore.

“I don’t want to hold you back. That is the absolute last thing I would want to do, Remi. I want you to have all the things that you want.” I was getting very, very close to telling her that I loved her.

“I know that,” she finally said in a small voice. “I know you don’t want to chain me here. But I also don’t want to pull you away if you don’t want to go. It’s just an impossible situation, Brooks. You need to stay and I need to go. That’s it. The timing is wrong.” I hated it when people blamed timing on the inability to make something work, but I couldn’t say that this was a lie. It was the truth. Her truth and my truth.

Our lives were two different paths that had converged for a period of time and then they were going to split off again.

“So, what do you want to do now? What do you want, Remi?”

Remi

I had no idea what to tell him because I wanted a lot of different things. I wanted to rent that apartment and I wanted to have a bakery but I also wanted him. It was ridiculous to deny it anymore. I had fallen hard for Brooks Benson and there was no going back from it now. But it wasn’t enough to make me want to stay.

So here we were, at an impasse. Couldn’t move forward, couldn’t move back. And neither of us wanted to end things.

“I don’t fucking know what I want, Brooks! I wish people would stop asking me that.” I noticed there was a rip in my shirt, thanks to his eager hands and that just made me angrier. Angry that I couldn’t have what I wanted. Angry that I couldn’t seem to tell him that I loved him. Angry about this fucking town and everything in it.

“I just need you to stop talking to me right now. I need you to shut up and to finish this baking so I can get out of here and fucking think. Can we do that?”

He just clenched his jaw and nodded.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

****

Brooks and I baked and frosted and packed everything up in near-silence.

After we washed the dishes he seemed to still have something to say, but was having a hard time getting it out.

“What is it?” I said, hoping that would spur him to speak.

“I brought you something,” he blurted out. “It’s not much, but I just wanted to thank you for helping push me to get back into doing art again.” My heart was feeling too big for my chest and my skin radiated hot and cold as he handed me something flat and square and covered in tissue paper. It had to be something he’d done.

“Don’t open it now,” he said as I was about to unwrap it.

“Oh. Okay,” I said, trying not to cry. “Thank you.” Such inadequate words. So useless.

“You’re welcome, Remington.” He stood so close that only the present was between us. I could feel his breath stirring my hair. I stared at his chest and refused to look up into his eyes because then it would be all over. I’d officially dive over the cliff and never come back out again.

“Have a good night,” he said, his tone resigned.

“You too,” I said, sounding like I was choking.

****

I waited until I was alone in my room to tear off the tissue paper.

“Shit,” I said as I stared at the beautiful charcoal drawing in a simple silver frame. Now the tears came.

“You’re so fucking talented,” I said as I took in the simple scene of stones scattered on the beach, but he’d done something I’d never seen anyone else do and I couldn’t put my finger on why it was so incredible. That was why he was so good. He could make me cry while looking at something simple. Could make me feel things that I’d never known I could feel.

I wiped my eyes and set the picture down on my bed and drew my feet up, propping my chin on my knees. So many thoughts exploded in my head and I could feel a migraine coming on. Could you get one of those for thinking too much? Was that possible?

I couldn’t sleep, so I got out my computer and found an email I had missed from the professor at the art college. Yes. Brooks had talent. He should definitely submit.

I knew it. I knew it.

I knew he could do it.

I allowed myself a little smile and then gave him Brooks cell phone number so they could get in contact. He was gonna find out what I’d done, but it didn’t matter. I was heading out and this was going to be my one last good deed for him.

And hope he didn’t hate me for it.

****

I also made the decision when I woke up the next morning that I was going to suck it up and deal with my parents about moving. I hadn’t signed a lease yet, but I was on my way and I needed Mom to come around by the time I moved.

When Dad came home, he found me sitting at the kitchen table, messing with my phone and trying not to hyperventilate.

“Is there something you want to talk to me about?” he asked, pulling out a chair.

“Um, yeah. And if we could do it fast before Mom comes home, that would be great. I went and looked at that apartment and I want to take it. I really need to move fast if I want to make sure that someone else doesn’t get it. So I need to talk to Mom.” My hands shook a little under the table. Dammit.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “Calm down. It’s going to be okay. You’re acting like you murdered someone. This is not bad news. I knew you were going to make it happen.” He smiled and for the first time in about twenty-four hours, I felt like things were maybe going to be okay, that I wasn’t making a mistake.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“So, tell me about it.” I explained the layout and the rent and where it was located. Dad listened and didn’t tell me I was stupid or that it was a bad decision. He just gave me a hug and asked me if I needed any help moving.

“I don’t think so, since I don’t have much stuff. I got a lot of it in the car already. But I’m going to need your help with Mom, obviously.” He gave me a look and slung his arm around my shoulder.

“She’s tougher than you give her credit for. She’ll be fine.”

I really wanted to believe that, but when Mom got home about ten minutes later, things were very Not Fine.

“Are you kidding me? You went and looked at an apartment without even asking us? Why would you do that?” I was doing my absolute best to remain calm. Dad had his hand on her shoulder, basically holding her back. Her face was red and I hadn’t seen her so pissed in a long time.

But I had just about had enough. I was done.

“Mom, you have to stop acting like you can control my life. I’m twenty-two years old. I’m a grown ass woman. And yes, I’ve made mistakes here and there, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself. That doesn’t mean that I forfeit my right to live a life apart from you. I love you, but you make it really hard sometimes.” Shit, now I was crying. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted to be calm and strong and rational. Not a whiny, sobbing mess.

Oh, well.

“I’m your mother. I care about you and you’re acting like I’m a horrible person.” Now she was crying. For fuck’s sake.

“I think we need to take a breather,” Dad said, inserting himself between Mom and me. “Let’s just take a second and calm down and then we can talk about this. No yelling. No name-calling and no accusing. We all love each other, okay?” I nodded and then went out to the porch to get some air. I inhaled deep lungfuls of air tinged with salt from the ocean and spice from the trees. It was cool and helped dry my tears and clear away a little bit of my anger.

I wanted so much to just get in my car right now and go. But that would shatter my relationship with my mother permanently and I didn’t know if we could really recover from that. She was still my mom and I did love her. We would never have the kind of relationship that I wanted, but if we could just... not hate each other. That would be great.

I went back inside and heard Mom crying. Dad had a grim look on his face.

“I’m sorry. I really thought she would handle this better. I’m going to go talk with her. We’ll get it figured out.” He gave me another hug and headed back to wrangle my emotional mother. I brewed myself some coffee and looked through the fridge to see what there was to eat. I found some chicken from last night wrapped in foil and ate it cold with a fork.

My phone buzzed and I found a text from Brooks. Oh, perfect. That was just what I needed right now.

Hey, just wanted to see how you were doing.

It was a vague text, but I knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if I’d opened the gift and what I thought of it. I’d considered sending him a message about it, but I couldn’t.

Good. The picture is beautiful. Thank you. How are you?

I made a face because it sounded like a text that you would send someone you weren’t comfortable talking with. Guess that was how things were going to be. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to tell him. The coward in me wanted to text him after I got there and call it good.

And then I would imagine the look on his face and how disappointed in me he would be and I knew I couldn’t do that to him. Loving someone really put you in a bind.

I could see him typing something out, deleting it and then typing again. Then silence. I waited for a message, but it didn’t come. The crying from my parents’ bedroom had stopped, so I hoped that was a good sign. Dad finally came out and gave me a thumbs up.

“So, we’re good?” I asked. I couldn’t believe she’d come around just like that.

“Not exactly. But she’s decided that you can go and she’s going to try her best to be supportive.” Oh, joy. She was going to LET me go. I almost retorted back to that, but then I kept my mouth shut.

“Good,” I said. “Should I talk to her now?” He shook his head.

“Probably not. Give her an hour or so. Then we can give it another shot. It’ll be better once she’s had a chance to get used to the idea.” Well, she was gonna have to get her head around it, because I was out of here. Nothing was going to stop me from leaving.

Nothing.

Seventeen

Brooks

I wanted to tell her. I’d tried to tell her. I wanted to make the words “I love you” come out of my mouth, but I couldn’t. Because then if she stayed, I’d always wonder if it was because of me. If she would someday resent me. I would never be able to live with that, so I kept my mouth shut.

“You haven’t told her, have you?” Mom asked the morning after the night with Remi.

“No. And I’m not going to. I’m not throwing that wrench into her plans. She wants to leave and I won’t to stop her.” I shrugged.

“I still think you should tell her. Let her make the choice. She’s a big girl. She can handle it.” I listened to Mom’s advice, but I was still not going to tell Remi. I texted her and asked how she was doing and she gave me a sterile response, thanking me for the picture. We exchanged a few more casual messages, but nothing serious. Whatever was between us was over. We’d shut the door on that chapter and now it was time to move on.

I stared at the drawings I had of Remi. I wanted to burn every last one. So cliché. Instead, I stacked them up and put them in my closet. I couldn’t look at them right now. It hurt too much.

Being at the store made me think too much of her, so I asked Falyn and Ezra if they’d cover for me. They agreed without too much begging on my part. I wasn’t sure what to do with my time, but I needed to not be anywhere that I would run into Remi. Which probably would mean I’d stay locked in my room doing moody art for at least forty-eight hours.

That was my plan until the next day when there was a knock on my bedroom door. I thought that it was Mom, asking me if I was okay, but it wasn’t. Remi Wright was standing there, her face red and her eyes focusing on anything but me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. She cleared her throat and shuffled into the room, closing the door behind her.

“Your mom said you were up here. I went to the store, but you weren’t there.” She looked like she wanted to do anything but be in this room with me right now and I had a sick feeling in my stomach.

“Why were you looking for me?” I asked, setting my charcoal down and dusting off my hands.

“What the fuck is this?” she asked, holding up a thick envelop of paper and a set of keys.

“I’m not sure,” I said slowly, but that was a lie. I knew exactly what it was.

“Don’t you bullshit me, Brooks Benson. This is a goddamn lease to a building that I did not sign or pay for. So who did?” I opened my mouth and she stormed across the room. I’d called just recently about leasing the place Remi had fallen in love with in Portland. I had enough cash from selling the art prints and if I could sell some more pieces during the art show, I could make it work. My parents had actually agreed to co-sign when I’d pitched the idea to them. Avery had helped negotiate. I’d been so scared that it wasn’t going to go through, but it had somehow worked out. And now Remi was waving the paperwork and the keys in my face and yelling at me. I hadn’t expected anything less from her.

“How dare you? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you.”

Remi

“Why?” I asked and he gave me a wry smile.

“Why wouldn’t I love you? You’re smart and you make me laugh and you are your own person. You’re just YOU and I love it. You. Everything. From the ends of your purple hair down to your cute toes.” I didn’t know my toes were cute. Not really the point, but good to know.

“Oh,” I said, feeling like I was going to tip over. I stumbled to his bed and sat down. The drawings were scattered all over the floor and I found myself looking at pictures of me. But a better version. The version that Brooks apparently saw. She was beautiful and confident and sexy. I didn’t feel like any of those things at the moment. Brooks sat down in a chair across the room from me. Giving me space to breathe.

“Since when?” I asked. I couldn’t form complete sentences anymore.

“I’m not sure. But then it was happening and I didn’t know how to tell you. Because I knew you were leaving and I didn’t want to be the thing that stood in your way. Because I love you.” He really liked saying that.

“Oh,” I said again. I needed a minute. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths.

“Well, that’s good that you love me, because I love you.” My entire body shook as I said it because I was so scared of the words, but once they were out, he looked at me and smiled so bright that all the terror was totally worth it.

“Can you say that again?” he asked.

“I love you,” I said, this time the words were stronger. “I love you and I’m moving to Portland and I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen. I thought that I couldn’t have you and have my dreams, but why not? Why can’t I have both?”

“I don’t know.”

There was a beat of silence and then he got off the chair, walked toward me and pulled me to my feet.

“I need to kiss you now.”

“Okay,” I breathed and then his mouth was on mine and all my doubts melted away with his kiss. So what if I was going to be in Portland and he was going to be here? Maybe... maybe I could come back. Or he could go there in a few years. And it wasn’t like it was so far we couldn’t visit. There was no good reason to say that it wasn’t going to work before we even tried.

I’d been immature and stupid about everything. I could finally see that. I couldn’t deprive myself of Brooks because I thought it would somehow make me happy. Brooks made me happy, period. Baking made me happy. Being on my own made me happy. These things were not mutually exclusive.

“I wanted to tell you not to go,” he said, breaking the kiss. “But I didn’t because that would be totally selfish. So I want you to go and not worry about me. I’ll come and see you and maybe... maybe I can join you in Portland someday.”

I grinned up at him. “Really? That would be great, because I talked to someone at the art school there and he thinks you have a good shot of getting in.”

“Are you fucking serious?” he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yes, I am fucking serious. I gave him your number so he’s probably going to call you.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“We’re a mess.”

“We are.”

He kissed me again.

“You make me want to do things and be something and be someone, Remington. You shot color back into my life and I’ll always be grateful for that. No matter what happens.” If I hadn’t loved him already, that would have done it. Those words.

“You make me not hate this town and that’s a huge deal. And I couldn’t have done Sweet Shots without you. I wouldn’t be doing any of this without you. You believed I could do anything.” He kissed my nose.

“Believe. I believe you can do anything.”

“Yeah, well, I feel the same way about you, Brooks Benson. And maybe we can do anything together.” I cupped his face and let myself fall into his eyes. No more reservations. No more excuses. No more holding back. I was letting myself fall over the edge and Brooks was coming with me.

“Together,” he said, reaching up and twisting his fingers with mine.

“We’ve got this.”

Epilogue

Brooks

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Remi said, rushing into the gallery, her hair curled and bouncing everywhere.

“It’s okay, you’re not late,” I said. I’d told her to meet me a half hour before the show started. Just in case.

“You bastard,” she said with an indulgent smile, giving me a kiss. Her mouth was closer to mine since she was rocking some beautiful black heels with her silver dress. She had eyeliner on as well as red lipstick. Total knockout.

“I should be hanging you on the wall,” I said, stepping back so I could get the full effect. She twirled and curtseyed, which was talented because the dress was not that long.

“How was the trip?” I asked her as she leaned into me and I put my arm around her.

“Good. How are you? Are you nervous?” I gave her what I hoped was a confident smile.

“Not at all.”

“Liar,” she said, poking me in the stomach. I led her over to where my pieces were hung. I hadn’t let her see which ones I’d chosen because I’d wanted to watch her face when she saw the biggest one.

“Oh my God I hate you,” she said as she looked at the charcoal drawing of her. I’d gotten the inspiration for it when I’d spent the weekend at her apartment and we’d ended up fucking on the living room floor in the middle of the afternoon. The sunlight had lit up her skin, showing the curves of her back and it was so beautiful that I couldn’t let it go without capturing it. She’d let me draw her that day and several times since then. But she hadn’t known I was going to show this one. I’d only drawn her back, so no one would know it was her.

“Everyone is going to know this is me, you asshole,” she said, but she was grinning from ear to ear.

“No they won’t,” I said and she just smacked my arm.

“Yes they will, but I’m okay with that. I had a feeling you were going to pull this crap.” She was still smiling.

“Still love me?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” she said, kissing my cheek.

Things between us were good, despite living in two different places. I was working on building up my portfolio so I could apply to the Maine College of Art for next summer’s semester and Remi had already said that I could come and live with her in her apartment. It was a huge step for the both of us, but I figured by then we’d be ready. She’d already started up the bakery and was paying the lease on her own. With only a few weeks of business, Sweet Shots was the hottest ticket in Portland and she was killing it. Of course, that meant she was busy as hell, and I didn’t get to see her much, but when she did visit, it was amazing.

We’d finally had sex in my room and she’d gotten much better at staying quiet. After a lot of practice and a few awkward encounters with my parents.

Things with Remi’s parents were getting better, slowly. I’d been over to dinner with all of them and her mom had basically asked me why I hadn’t proposed yet. I talked my way out of that one, but she hadn’t stopped putting on the pressure for me to marry and knock up her daughter.

Remi had also braved a Benson family dinner and survived. Everyone loved her. She and my mom talked on the phone at least once a week. She had eased herself into my life and my family and I just couldn’t imagine living without her.

“You did good, Brooks,” she said, putting her arm around me.

“Thank you, Remington.”

Her hand slid lower and squeezed my butt.

“Stop that,” I said. The last thing I needed tonight was a hard on when I was supposed to be talking about my art.

“Never,” she said. “Never ever.”

Acknowledgements:

This book was one of those that was down to the wire. Thanks so much to my editor, Jen, who is the one who makes my books better and my publicist Jessica, who has so much patience with me.

This is the first book in a new series and I hope you love Remi and Brooks as much as I do. I loved spending time with them, even though I was STARVING the entire time I was writing this book.

I really wanted to write this series to show what love in a small town is like. No billionaires or cowboys or football stars (not that there’s anything wrong with those books. I love them!) here. Just regular people falling in regular love, but it can be just as magical as falling in love with a vampire.

About the author:

Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA and Adult New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.

Other books by Chelsea M. Cameron:

Nocturnal (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book One)

Nightmare (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Two)

Neither (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Three)

Neverend (The Noctalis Chronicles, Book Four)

Whisper (The Whisper Trilogy, Book One)

Deeper We Fall (Fall and Rise, Book One)

Faster We Burn (Fall and Rise, Book Two)

Together We Heal

My Favorite Mistake (Available from Harlequin)

My Sweetest Escape (Available from Harlequin)

Our Favorite Days (My Favorite Mistake, Book Three)

Sweet Surrendering

Surrendering to Us

Dark Surrendering

For Real (Rules of Love, Book One)

For Now (Rules of Love, Book Two)

Deep Surrendering

UnWritten

Behind Your Back

Back to Back

Bend Me, Break Me

Find Chelsea online:

chelseamcameron.com

Twitter: @chel_c_cam

Facebook: Chelsea M. Cameron (Official Author Page)

Brooks is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2016 Chelsea M. Cameron

Editing by Jen Hendricks
chelseamcameron.com