Page 30 of It Happened Again

“I’ll see you later. And when I get back, you better be Zen and glowing. Ta Ta.” Sophie wiggled her fingers in a wave.

I smiled as the door shut behind her. In the kitchen,I took a sip of the soup—delicious, of course—and turned off the burner for now. I stepped into the bathroom, shrugged off the day, and sank into the warm water—with lavender steam rising.

I lifted my red-painted toes above the tub’s edge—just enough leg to stay professional—and snapped a photo. I texted it to him and simply said ‘thank you.’ Then I turned my phone off.

I grinned, reading Brooks’ note again, then set it on the edge of the tub like the sign of a promise.

Of what? More of this special treatment to come?

Could things have been this good between us had I never stepped foot on that ship?

What if I’d have said yes when he asked me to marry him, even with his desperate-sounding proposal?

How could I forget the entire week after we returned from Spring Break on the island and all his texts asking me to reconsider? Begging me to stay. He even knocked on the window outside my bedroom from the fire escape late one night. He’d been drinking, I could tell.

“Brooks? What are you doing here at four in the morning? I have class in a few hours.” I rubbed my eyes after opening the window. The cool air froze my nipples beneath the thin Columbia t-shirt I wore to bed.

“Don’t go. Please.” His voice rasped, low and moody, like him.

“We’ve been over this,” I choked up, but I’d been in tears over this all week since we returned and didn’t think another could fall.

“Marry me. Stay here and marry me. Because fuck... I love you, Maisy. I know Archer and Rex warned me about how young you are. We have an age difference. Your sister doesn’t approve of us. But I didn’t set out to fall for you, I just fucking did, okay? I want you. Be my wife. You want to travel the world? I’m rich as hell and can take you anywhere. If you’d only stay with me, Maisy.”

“Brooks, you’re not making this easy for me.” I was wrong. More tears fell. I spoke and cried at the same time. “And youdon’t understand. Yes, I am young. That’s why I want to do this voyage now, while I can. Before I’m tied down to a job and responsibilities and a... relationship. I need to spread my wings and fly. And if you truly loved me, you’d see that. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I don’t want you. If it’s love, it’ll still be here when I come back. We could try again, then.”

I tried, so help me, to stick to my resolve. But face to face with him, it crumbled.

He cupped my face and kissed my lips tenderly. “I can’t wait a year to have you, Maisy. Don’t you want me, baby?” He kissed me again, then trailed his lips down my neck. “Hm? You know I can make you feel so good. Let me in.”

“Oh, Brooks,” I warmed up to him as he leaned further into the window, so far that we landed on my bed in my tiny room.

He hovered over me and whispered, “I love you, Maisy.”

“Mm,” I moaned, my legs squeezing together in the tub, thinking back on that night. I never gave him an answer to his proposal. Instead, we were a mess of limbs and hands and tongues, clawing at each other, feral, passionately, to please each other. When we woke up the next morning, we were no more closer to any resolution.

The need for Brooks throbbed strongly now, rising through me like lava in my veins. I reached for the little bath toy he had so cleverly—and, of course, scientifically, professionally—selected. It hummed softly in my hand, and with a breathy laugh, I sank lower into the water, letting the warmth wrap around me as the toy gained rhythm.

In my mind, it was him. His mouth, his hands and fingers. The way he looked at me when no one else was around. The way he touched me like I was something sacred.

My breath caught as I slipped deeper into the fantasy—his voice low in my ear, telling me all the ways he wanted to unravel me. He called me a good girl and took me apart, thenput me back together again with his tongue. Then he took more, dry humping into me with his hard shaft, our clothes the only barrier, our crescendoing moans the only sound. My hips moved in sync with his, grinding, yearning to be bare with him. Ourministrations heated faster and faster until he stilled above me.

“Mm.” Pleasure hit me in waves, curling my toes through my belly and into my thighs, tightening everything, making me tremble. I let go, crying out, then biting my lip to hold his name in while in my mind I praised him.Brooks. Fuck yes, Brooks.

Afterward, I lay there, boneless and dazed, my pulse a soft thrum in my ears. Definitely relaxed.

I’d been lying to myself.

Since the moment we locked eyes in that boardroom—the one where he wore the scarf I’d knitted like it meant something—I’d known I was still his.

I wanted Brooks Bellamy. All of him. Always had.

But it was the same impossible argument I’d fought from the beginning.

I had goals. Dreams. Work that mattered.

When would I finally let it all go and let him in?

And when I did… would it be too late?

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