Page 24 of The Sweetest Risk

“I think it’s time for you to go, Hot Shot. You have stayed long enough. You got what you came for.” I begin to unlock the door and Tristan’s giant hand stops me.

“Are you sure you want me to leave?”

No? Yes? Definitely, yes. I can’t be alone with this man. It’s too dangerous. Especially now that I know what he is capable of.

I look up at Tristan’s face and he subtly licks his lips and his eyes are hungry again. I don’t trust myself around him and I have to come to grips about who is standing in front of me. I am too scared to think of the implications of us hooking up more than we already have. I have had a preview of what this man is like in the bedroom and it has shifted everything. The solid, bolded line of hate is beginning to thin out a little.

Do I want him to leave? No. I gulp. “Yes.”

I don’t know what it is, but Tristan’s eyes shift from hungry to defeated once those words come out of my mouth. He brushes his finger along my jawline, causing goosebumps to scatter across my body, and lifts up my chin so I can’t escape his gaze. He leans in and pauses right before his lips touch mine. My body tingles from his touch and I close my eyes, waiting for his lips to land on mine. Instead he moves his face along my cheek and tickles me with his scruff, then whispers, “Okay. I know you have a long day tomorrow. Good luck at the birthday party, Cupcake.”

13

“All right, I will, Ma. Yeah, I will bring her some soup or something. I’ll check in on her. Okay, love you, bye.” Bradley hangs up his phone. “Shit.”

“What’s the matter? What did your mom have to say?”

“I guess Brooke is sick. She has a really bad cold. She went to urgent care thinking it was a sinus infection and thankfully it wasn’t. I guess a lot of kids at her school have been sick. The doctor prescribed her some medicine but my mom wants me to go and check in on her since my parents are out of town and she can’t go over herself.”

I was wondering why Brooke was MIA the past few days. I thought she got really freaked out by what happened between us on her kitchen counter and she never wanted to see me again. But, it wasn’t me. Hopefully. I need to see her.

I clear my throat. “So, when are you going over to check in on her?”

Bradley stuffs his duffle bag with dirty clothes and grabs his keys. “Right after I am done here. I will stop by the pharmacy to pick up her prescription and get some canned chicken noodle soup or something.”

Brooke hates canned chicken noodle soup. I remember her being sick for one of the Becketts’ Sunday night dinners years ago. Mrs. Beckett was making homemade chicken noodle soup, and she commented that Brooke hated canned soup ever since she was little. Apparently she threw it on the floor when she was in her high chair at the age of two. Even back then, she was stubborn and headstrong. “How long are you going to be over there?”

“Not very. Just long enough to make sure she is alive and then I’ll head out. I don’t want to catch this cold. It’s been spreading around like wildfire.”

“Wow. Brooke is so lucky to have such a great, caring big brother,” I say sarcastically.

Evidently, Bradley doesn’t catch my drift or he chooses to ignore it. “I know, right? She is lucky. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, bro.” He reaches out and I meet his hand with mine and give him a fistbump.

I waita couple of hours and then head to Brooke’s house. Luckily one of Brooke’s neighbors lets me into the apartment building when they see I had my hands full. Between a hot medicine ball from Starbucks and a couple of plastic bags filled with Brooke’s favorite ramen and cold supplies, I can’t really open the door, let alone hit the buzzer to come up. Ireach apartment 309 and I hear laughing coming from Brooke’s TV through the door. I also hear Brooke’s cute stuffy laugh. Knowing her, she is probably watching reruns ofFriends. I smile and knock. I hear her groan and say, “Ugh, Bradley, I literally just got comfortable. And now I have to get up from the couch and open the door and…”

The door swings open and reveals a very sick but still beautiful Brooke. Her nose is super red and her eyes look puffy. Her shoulders are wrapped in a fuzzy pink checkered blanket and her hair is in a messy braid hanging over her shoulder. She is in light gray sweatpants and an oversized shirt that saysThis is a jumbo coffee morning. There are loose tendrils framing her face. I can tell that she is surprised to see me.

She sniffles and holds up a crinkled tissue to her nose. “What are you doing here?”

“Well hello to you too, Cupcake.”

She raises her eyebrows, unamused. It’s scary how much she looks like Bradley when she does that.

“Um, I overheard Bradley talking with your mom about you being sick. I just wanted…”To see that you are okay. To hold you until you fall asleep. To fucking breathe the same air as you because I miss you so damn much and I can’t stop thinking about the other night.All of the above, really, but I’ll stick to the first reason. The reason most likely to not have her running away from me or slamming the door in my face. “To check on you. Sounded like a pretty bad cold to have you down and out for a few days.”

Her furrowed brows soften a bit and she looks down at my hands. She points to the plastic take-out bag. “What’s in the bag, Hot Shot?” she says in a stuffy voice.

I let out a small laugh, relieved she put down whatever ammunition she was holding up the moment she saw it was me at her door. “Well, first, I brought you a medicine ball. Heardthese things are great for colds.” Her lips curl slightly as she takes the hot Starbucks cup from my outstretched hand. Our fingers brush and it sends an electric current through my entire body. Jesus, I need her, but now is hardly the time. I’m sure I am the last thing on her mind.

“Thank you.” She takes a small sip. Her tired eyes meet mine and go straight back to the plastic bag. “The bag?”

“Oh, right, I stopped by that ramen spot that you wouldn’t shut up about at Sunday dinners for the past two years. You like the spicy one, right?” She slowly nods. “I thought it would be better than that disgusting canned chicken noodle soup that I’m sure Bradley brought you earlier.”

There’s my favorite smirk in the world spreading across Brooke’s face. “You’re right. Ramen is way better. Thank you.” She opens the door wider, gesturing for me to come in. I walk past her couch and lo and behold, I was right.Friendsis on. I place the bags on her kitchen counter and since I know she is hopeless with chopsticks, I take out forks from the silverware drawer. Her house smells like cinnamon apple pie and that’s when I notice the candle burning on her coffee table. “You know that it’s the end of winter, right? Why the hell are you burning a fall-scented candle in the middle of February?”

“What are you, the candle police? I love the smell. It brings me comfort, okay?” She wipes her nose again.

“Can you actually smell anything right now? By the sound of your voice and the redness of your nose, Rudolph, I bet you can’t.”

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