Manipulated Page 8

  I shrugged. "Burgers can be breakfast food."

  He nodded slowly, but didn't say anything else. It was a little creepy, to be honest. To go from super nosey Mom to completely careless dad was great, but definitely weird.

  It was a lazy Sunday for me. I did laundry, vacuumed the townhouse, and stared at my homework, but through it all, I thought about Brodie. I couldn't help it. When I started to annoy myself with feeling obsessive, I got online and created a new video account and page. I transferred my favorite videos and sent a message to Lara to show her my work. This spawned a re-creation and deletion spree. I went to all my social networking sites and deleted my accounts, creating entirely new ones with totally different usernames. I hadn't chatted with anyone online in months, but when I found Lara online, we spent almost two hours talking about our videos and other people's videos. Before I logged off, I had five new friends on my lists.

  A little after ten at night, I got a text message that made my Sunday even better.

  You the office lackey tomorrow or you think you might come have lunch with me?

  He wanted to have lunch with me? I giggled, glad that no one was around to hear it. Well, I already have lunch plans. Should have texted me earlier.

  Who?

  Wouldn't you like to know? I could imagine him cursing my evasiveness again.

  Yeah, I would. That's why I asked.

  Why do you want to know? Was he simply curious, or was he actually jealous?

  So I can beat the shit out of him and have you to myself.

  You wouldn't really do that. Or, I didn't think he'd actually do that.

  You work in the office, check out my track record.

  That intrigued me. How many fights have you been in?

  Enough, sunshine. I've been in enough.

  Not having been in a fight before, I didn't know what would constitute "enough." Well, Lara would be pretty pissed if you tried to beat her up.

  Lara? You have lunch plans with Lara?

  I laughed to myself. He was jealous. I liked that. Yes. Wanna make something of it?

  She's lucky she hangs out with me at lunch, or I would.

  You'd hit a girl? I couldn't believe that.

  Never. But I'd intimidate the hell out of her until she gave you up.

  I loved the playful banter with him, but I couldn't help but wonder what the reaction would be when we were seen together again. If we keep being seen together, people are gonna get the wrong idea.

  I wanted to talk to you about that. Can you go for a walk?

  I looked at the time on my phone. It's after ten on a school night.

  Your dad doesn't care, remember?

  Oh yeah, I'd forgotten. But I was actually pretty beat. Not sleepy, really, but not in the mood for a walk. I don't really feel like walking.

  I'll pick you up and you can come here.

  Brodie's house? Brodie's room? I wasn't sure about that. Are you sure that's a good idea?

  Hey, I've been a good boy, haven't I? It'll be fine.

  It was true, he hadn't pushed me. And I was only down the street if I needed to get away from him. Okay. Let me put on something other than my pajamas.

  Why bother? Stay comfortable. Be there in a few.

  Oh, geez. What had I gotten myself into? I looked down at my black and purple pajama bottoms, making sure they didn't have holes in them or anything embarrassing. I put my bra on underneath my soft black T-shirt and slipped my feet into my flip-flops.

  Downstairs, Dad was watching TV and doing something on the laptop. He glanced up when I got to the door.

  "I'm going for a walk."

  He nodded. "Got your cell phone?"

  I waved it at him.

  "Be safe, and call me if you need me."

  "I will," I said as I closed the door behind me.

  Outside, it had cooled down more than I anticipated. I rubbed my arms as I walked down the street. I'd only gotten five townhouses away when a familiar black truck pulled up next to me.

  "Wanna ride, sweetheart?"

  The way he said it, bouncing his eyebrows up and down and winking at me made me laugh. "In your truck, yes."

  He laughed again and crooked his finger to me until I slid over then pointed to his lips. I gave him a quick peck and moved to put my seatbelt on.

  "That wasn't a kiss," he complained as we drove down the street.

  "You said you wanted to talk, not kiss."

  He grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. "I didn't say I only wanted to talk. Remember that whole 'can't keep our hands off each other' discussion? Kissing should just be implied in any activity we partake in."

  His lighthearted playfulness felt so good and thrilling, but that made me worry. "So we're going back to your place to talk and kissing will be involved. Again I ask, are you sure this is a good idea?"

  He pulled my hand to him and pressed his lips to the back as he parked in a driveway just a few blocks from Dad's townhouse. After he shut off the engine, he turned back to me. He was still smiling, but his eyes were very serious. "All you ever have to do is say no, Risa. Hell, you don't even have to do that. I know when it goes too far for you. I can tell when you're pulling back. And that's fine, baby. I'm not gonna push you."

  He could easily be handing me a line, but it really didn't feel that way. And he'd done nothing to make me think he would push me to do anything I wasn't ready for. I nodded, and we got out of the truck.

  His townhome had a different floor-plan than Dad's. It was larger, and the layout was flipped. There were pictures on the walls—some looked like Brodie as a kid. The blue-and-white checked couch had a matching chair and matching curtains. The kitchen table had a matching blue tablecloth with a small vase of flowers that looked like they came from the garden. It looked well-loved and comfortable. On the second floor, Brodie led me up to his room. It was much larger than mine with an attached bathroom and a French door that led to the balcony.

  "Your grandma gave you the master bedroom?" I asked with surprise.

  "No. Well, sort of. There are two masters. Hers is bigger, but doesn't have the balcony—she has this fear of someone breaking into her room, so it works out." He pulled me out on the balcony and pointed to the trellis of ivy attached to the side of the townhouse. "Grams loves to garden, not that much grows here. I built that for her, and I made it really strong. If you need me or need someplace to chill for a while, climb on up. Sammy does it all the time."

  I could just imagine climbing up to his room to find him with another chick. My stomach turned at that thought, and I felt a little nauseous. How many girls knew about the trellis and had gotten the same invite for another purpose? I stepped forward and leaned against the railing, staring down the street.

  "Risa." He wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his hands on the railing. "We might as well have this talk now. You were right when you said they'd get the wrong idea. They'll think we're sleeping together. You have to be ready for that."

  I nodded. "But we're not."

  "They don't know that."

  "No. I mean, yeah they don't know that, but… why?"

  He laughed at me. "Why aren't we sleeping together?"

  I turned around, forcing him to move his hands, which landed on my waist. "Why do you keep talking to me and hanging out with me when you know I'm not sleeping with you? If that's all you're about, why am I here?"

  He stared at me for a full minute then walked back into his room and signaled for me to follow him. His mattresses sat on the floor with a clean, black comforter over the top. Directly beside his bed was a low cabinet just slightly higher than his mattresses. It stretched the entire length of his bed. A futon couch was against one wall opposite a low black cabinet with a flat-screen TV on top. A black bookcase sat next to the TV with several game systems. On the floor, there were boxes with games piled on top and spread out across the carpet. Two bean bags were scattered here and there, and there was a punching bag hanging from the ceiling in the c
orner with weights next to it. I was surprised at how clean it was—no dirty clothes or soda cans—I thought most teenage guys were slobs.

  I watched Brodie pull his wallet out of his pocket and place it on the tall dresser that stood up against the wall by the bathroom door. He added his keys to the pile and walked to the closet where he toed off his sneakers and closed the door. "Kick off your shoes and come sit with me."

  He looked so comfortable resting against the pile of gray pillows on his bed, one arm stretched behind his head. Despite my better judgment, I took off my flip-flops and sat next to him.

  "You're too far away," he declared.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but the way his gray eyes sparkled back at me made me inch closer to him. He pointed to his chest, and I laid my head against him as he wrapped his arms around me.

  "You never answered my question," I pointed out.

  "I'm answering it right now, sunshine."

  "Okay, go ahead," I prompted.

  "No, baby. This is the answer." He squeezed me tight. "I like being around you."

  "Oh." I couldn't help but smile at that. "I like being around you too."

  He kissed my forehead and turned on the TV. "What do you like to watch?"

  "Anything really. History stuff, pawn shows, things like that."

  He clicked through the channels. "Chum's the man. Did you ever notice he's not in the intro of the show?"

  "Yeah, what's up with that? And why did they start doing those fake bits where something stupid happens between the four of them?"

  "Probably thought it'd make ratings go up. But it's obvious it's staged." He yawned and squeezed me tighter. "Stay the night."

  I thought I'd heard him wrong or imagined it entirely. Maybe he was naming an episode. "Did you just—"

  "Sleep with me. Just sleep, I swear."

  "Brodie, my dad thinks I went for a walk. I can't just not come home. I think he might actually notice that. Besides, we have school tomorrow."

  "Call him, and tell him you're at a friend's house down the street, and you're crashing here. I'll take you home tomorrow morning so you have time to get ready. I'll even drive you to school."

  I leaned up and looked at him. "Why do you want me to stay so badly?"

  He shrugged. "I'm tired and comfortable. I don't wanna get up and take you back home."

  Oh, well that made me feel great. He shouldn't have brought me if he was that tired. I sat up farther. "It's not far. I can walk."

  He pulled me back to his chest. "Just stay with me, sunshine. I like having you in my arms. What's the difference if you sleep here or a few blocks away?"

  I studied him for a moment. He did look tired, and I liked being in his arms too. I rolled my eyes and pulled my phone from my pocket, turning onto my back.

  I'm just down the street at a friend's house. Gonna crash here and catch a ride to school in the morning.

  I had no idea what he'd say. As I waited for an answer, Brodie got up and grabbed clothes from his dresser. He winked at me as he went into the bathroom.

  Where at? Which house?

  "What's the name of your street?" I called out.

  "Lexington," he said as he came out of the bathroom in shorts and a T-shirt.

  On Lexington. Green townhouse on the end.

  I was more than a little surprised when his final response came in. Don't stay up too late.

  I won't.

  "So what's the verdict?"

  I stared at the phone. "He said it's fine."

  He stretched out on his side and put his hand over mine. "Did you want him to say no?"

  I shrugged.

  "You don't have to stay, sunshine."

  "No." I turned to look into his mysterious gray eyes. "I want to. It's just—I don't know. I thought he'd—" I shook my head. "I'm being stupid. It's cool he doesn't care."

  He took my phone from my hand. "Lemme see." He scrolled through the text conversation. "He cares. He asked for a specific location. He definitely should have picked up on your use of the generic 'friend.' I would have made sure it wasn't some guy incredibly interested in tearing my daughter's clothes off."

  I smiled. "Is that what you're interested in doing?"

  He lifted the hem of my shirt and kissed my stomach. I sucked in my breath at the intimacy of it. He didn't kiss my stomach the way he'd kissed my neck the night before—it was much more sweet and gentle, but holy crap it was personal. He placed his cheek against my exposed skin.

  "You're so warm and soft. I could fall asleep right here."

  I laughed lightly. "You may be comfortable, but I'm not."

  He pressed another kiss to my stomach and gestured for me to get up. After pulling the comforter to the end of the bed, he climbed under the sheets, motioning for me to do the same. He opened his arms to me, and I resumed my earlier position, resting my head on his chest.

  We talked for a while, letting our conversation flow from one topic into another naturally. It never felt forced with him. Before I knew it, I fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me.

  ***

  "Sunshine." Brodie's hand caressed my cheek, as the brightness behind my eyelids registered with my brain. "Time to wake up, sweetheart."

  I groaned and rolled away from him and onto my side.

  His arm encircled my waist. "You can sleep for a few more minutes while I take a shower, but then you have to get up."

  I groaned again, and he chuckled, kissing my ear. "You're so cute when you're sleepy."

  I felt his weight leave the bed and heard the shower turn on a minute later. Rolling over, I pulled his pillow to me. It smelled like his cologne and shampoo. I must have fallen back asleep because the next thing I remembered was the bathroom door opening.

  Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, adjusting to the brightness. Brodie came to stand in front of me in a pair of jeans and no shirt, and I was suddenly wide awake. I immediately thought that he must spend a lot of time working out. I knew I'd felt muscles in his chest, but with his damp, dark hair, lop-sided grin, and chiseled muscles, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.

  He squatted down by the side of the bed and folded his arms in front of me. "You want some coffee or juice? I can make you breakfast if you want."

  I pulled the sheet over my mouth for fear of morning breath. "You cook?" I laughed at the thought of chiseled, bad boy Brodie cooking me breakfast.

  "I'm an excellent cook. Get up." He smacked my butt and stood up. "There are new toothbrushes under the sink, grab one and put your name on it."

  I sat up and smoothed down my hair, thankful for straight strands that didn't usually look awful in the morning. My eyes followed him as he went to a drawer and pulled out a T-shirt when what he said finally hit me. "You keep spare toothbrushes in your cabinet?" I felt a little sick and a little angry. How many girls did he bring home with him? I turned to search the wall behind the bed.

  "What are you looking for?" he asked as he watched me.

  I kept searching. "You must have a tally going somewhere around here right? Keep track of how many chicks you've—"

  "Risa." He put his knee on the bed and stretched his hand out to me. "Come here."

  I rolled my eyes angrily, but put my hand in his. He pulled me into the bathroom, which was clean with gray walls and white tiles. He stopped in front of the sink and pointed to a cup on the counter with several toothbrushes standing up in it. He picked one up, turned it over, and showed me the handle where the name "Sammy" had been written in black sharpie. I looked at the others in the cup, scanning the names: Mace, Lara, Petey, Jose, and Meaghan. I didn't know a Meaghan, but I'd been wrong about the rest of the toothbrushes, so I allowed for the likelihood that she wasn't one of his conquests either.

  "Okay?" he asked, still holding my hand.

  I nodded, and he kissed my forehead.

  "You want some breakfast?"

  I shook my head. "I don't usually eat breakfast."

  "Me neither, but I do drink coffee. Gra
ms always has a pot ready. You want some?" At my nod, he moved toward the door. "Come on down when you're ready."

  "Wait! Your grandma—she's not home is she?"

  He did that slanted grin of his and shook his head. "She's a nurse in the ER at University Hospital. She left hours ago, but you'll meet her soon."

  "I will?" I bit my bottom lip nervously.

  He stepped back in front of me and pushed my hair behind my ears. "You're so cute in the morning. You haven't pulled up that sarcastic front yet. I like this side of you. Now hurry up."

  The New Flavor of the Week

  It was weird to have him in Dad's townhouse. It still didn't feel like my home, so I didn't really feel like I had a right to invite him in, but I wasn't going to make him wait outside.

  He followed me up to my room and looked around with almost a disgusted face. "This doesn't fit you at all."

  "Yeah, it's um, it's the guest room. My dad decorated it for, you know, guests." I felt weird about not having anything in there that I would have picked out, but beggars couldn't be choosers. At least I had a place to stay. I grabbed a change of clothes and went toward the bathroom in the hall. "I'm just gonna take a quick shower. Make yourself at home."

  After hurrying through my shower, I tossed my hair up in a towel and went to check on Brodie. Poking my head in, I found him sitting on my bed, messing with his phone. I stepped in and put my dirty clothes in the hamper.

  "It'll only take me a minute to dry my hair, and I'll be ready."

  He put his hand out to me. "Come here, we got time. It's only seven."

  "Oh." I walked over to him. "Feels late. I'm usually on the bus by now."

  "Driving yourself to school has its privileges. You wanna ride every morning?"

  I had to sit down for that. He was making a daily commitment. Had he thought this through? "Um, why—are you—uh—" Who cares why, just say yes, my heart shouted at me. "You know what, sure. Just, if you decide not to at any point, no big deal, just text me."

  He leaned forward and cupped my chin. "It might take me a while to make up my mind, but once I've made a decision, I don't go back."