Page 41 of Double Trouble

I’m gonna do it.

When she’s ready to hear it.

I’ll tell Brink I’m in love with her, and it’ll be what she wants, what I want, and I won’t have to worry about scaring her off.

I run my hand through her hair, her head perched on my bicep as some mindless TV plays in the background. My lips are swollen from kissing her, and I’m pretty sure she marked up my neck at some point. We eventually fell onto our sides, her body pressed against mine. She’s using my arm as a pillow, our legs intertwined. I’ve never felt so comfortable in an uncomfortable position in my life.

Her cute mouth is open a smidge, and her nose rumbles with each breath. My girl’s a snorer, which is part of the reason why I haven’t dozed off yet. The other is pure shock that she’s here with me in the first place. Not sure I’ll get over just how lucky I am this isn’t something I dreamed up.

I twirl a strand of her dark hair around my finger, letting it spiral back into place over and over like a slinky. It’s good to see her without that furrowed brow, the concern in her eyes that seems to be a permanent fixture to her personality. She carries so much responsibility for too many people outside of herself. Hopefully she was able to escape it for a little bit.

My gaze reluctantly goes from her soft skin to my crowded desk in the corner. Sleep isn’t going to find me soon, and there’s a creative itch niggling in the back of my mind. She had some killer moves today during her freestyling. She’ll say she was rusty, but even with the few slip-ups, which are inevitable for every boarder, I know she impressed those judges out there.

I give our intertwined bodies a once-over, debating on how to untangle myself without waking her up. It’s going to take some finesse I’m not sure I possess.

I inhale deep, sucking in my stomach and easing my leg out from under hers. Hawk watches from the back of the couch, stretching the moment he sees me moving. He’s most likely thinking I’m moving to the bed. He won’t sleep in there without me, as far as I know. He has free rein when I’m not here, but when I am, wherever I go, he follows.

I lift up on my knee, hovering over Mad as she sleeps on. Holding my breath, I push off and roll to the floor, the carpet muffling my landing. Brink is a rock.

A chuckle rumbles through my chest, and I get to my feet. I pad my way to my room, grabbing the comforter and pillow off my bed. I ease it under her head and tuck her in, brushing her hair from her face. There isn’t a stutter in her snores.

Good. She needs a deep sleep. I press a kiss to her forehead and go to power up my computer.

My headphones are already plugged in, so I settle them over my ears and dig out my camera and connecting cord. I do the same with my phone, since it’s been about a month since I’ve cleared it out and I know I’ve got footage from Mad’s runs at Troublemakers.

Her GoPro is also perched on my desk, and I go ahead and take that drive out and stick it in, too. Might as well get in the zone while the motivation is here.

As all the files pull up and I set up my editing software, a warm excitement spreads from my chest to my brain to my fingers. When I was in high school, I taped everything. I edited and created, and I’d spend hours clipping and adding music in the perfect spots. There were plans for a channel I could upload to, and share my work, but I was never completely confident in it. It was all so random… nothing I could truly market for anything.

Then I met Mad, and everything she did was inspiring. Even her flubs were worth taping.

I reach down to the twelve-pack I keep under my desk and pop open a fresh Dr. Pepper. It takes me less than five minutes to get lost in the footage from just this past week. I start clipping and pasting different angles and runs together, including the first-person shots from Mad’s helmet. I have a good ten minutes fully edited before I stumble upon a take of myself in her GoPro.

“At least we won’t be doing this every time,” I say as the camera turns on. “Looks like once it’s on the helmet, it’s on for good.”

“Which is why it’s been a year and a half since I got it and it still looks brand new.” Her voice rings out, but I can’t see her at all. Only me and my goofy grin at being so close to her. There’s a redness to my cheeks and my ears, and I wonder if she notices all these things when I look at her.

“You never were a fan of the fancy stuff,” I say with a nod. The camera jostles as I adjust it. “This ship’s garbage.”

“Don’t you speak ill of the Millennium Falcon.” Her fist comes into frame, tapping me in the stomach with her knuckles.

“All right, I think you’re all set.” I wave to the camera, and the whole thing shakes, like she’s laughing.

I pause it there, really take a look at myself. Did she know then? It seems so obvious from here… the way I look at her. How have I not scared her away? Just that look would’ve gotten me rejected in the past.

A buzz jolts me from my thoughts, and I blink down at my phone that lights up and vibrates across my desk. I snatch it up before the noise wakes Mad.

Hey, have you seen Maddie? She hasn’t come home.

Pete. I rub my eyes and slowly lower my headphones. Wow… it’s nearly four in the morning. I really lost track of time.

Yeah. We had some car trouble, and she crashed here.I hit send then quickly add,on the couch.

I don’t know if Pete knows about the relationship I have with his sister, and I’m not eager to be the messenger on that.

What sort of car trouble?

I swivel in my chair and glance at Brink’s non-moving frame on the couch. She didn’t want to call Pete earlier when the car wouldn’t start, but I don’t know if that’s because she didn’t want him to know about the car or if she just didn’t want to bother him.

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