Page 75 of That: Taylor & Brooks

Now he was caught up in his feelings, scared that any minute Taylor might bolt, change her mind. They’d been back two weeks, keeping things lowkey, enjoying good food, having even better sex, and late night conversations that left him choosing his words carefully, or he’d say that four-letter word. The one sitting heavy on his tongue. Take it slow as what they’d said and planned for. But there was nothing slow about how she’d taken over his thoughts. And him hers. And while he couldn’t bring himself to regret the time he’d spent with Taylor, because it had been real and needed, he also knew what it cost.

Responsibility didn’t pause just because love entered the chat.

And Brooks Bishop didn’t do sloppy.

Not with business.

Not with family.

And not with Blake.

That’s where he’d fucked up.

He’d had to call and threaten her today just to get her attention. People were talking and running their mouths about her dating some nigga. Which would have been fine if she had found somebody that fit for her. Instead, she was with someone who needed her apartment to rest after getting shot.

Whispers reached him, she knew that. He had fragments of a story he should’ve noticed developing. He hadn’t tracked her like he usually did. Too wrapped up in his own storm.

So now, here they were. The door swung open, and Blake stepped in like she owned the damn place. Hissister was so dramatic. And annoying. She didn’t knock. Never had to. Just swung the door to his office open and sauntered in. She dropped into the chair across from him and stared. Arms crossed. Expression unreadable. But the slight arch of her brow told him everything.

Go ahead and get this bullshit over with, big brother.

He wasn’t exactly innocent, either. He’d been slipping, and he knew it. But he was here now, making the effort. Blake was just gonna have to deal with his lecture about her reckless ass choices. He’d told her countless times to lock her doors, make smart decisions, find some square-ass dude, and live happily ever after with a poodle or some shit. Instead, she was out here adopting wounded strays and falling in love like life was a damn hood romance movie.

This shit was nuts.

“Oh, so you feeling him heavy?” Brooks asked, cutting straight to it.

“Yeah,” Blake said, meeting his eyes steadily. “I really am. And I got dinner plans with him tonight, so are we finished here?”

Brooks leaned back, studying her. “What do you know about him?”

“I don’t know whether to like the new Blake or not. Old Blake listened.”

Blake smirked. “Old Blake used to listen. New Blake has shit to do.”

Blake had always been feisty, but now she was looking him in the eye like she wasn’t waiting for approval. He should’ve been proud, but all he could feel was irritation at how nonchalant she was. And for this man she’d been seeing to not even step to him like aman that had his blood boiling. But at the same time, he wasn’t being completely upfront about his shit either.

“Brooks, I have nothing to say. This is happening. Period.”

Blake continued to argue with Brooks; they’d gone back and forth around and around on the subject neither willing to bend. She’d told him she didn’t need a sitter. He’d reminded her that he’d always be her brother at the end of the day. It had been a long time since they’d fought like that.

“I don’t like hearing my little sister is out here acting brand new, getting extravagant gifts every day, in the club all hugged up and running around with a man who-”

Blake’s expression shifted instantly. He caught it, and just like that, he knew.

He’d said too much. Brooks sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

Damn.

Taylor’s name wasn’t mentioned, but it didn’t need to be. Blake wasn’t stupid. She connected the dots. He could see the squint and the mental math she was doing.

“All I’m saying is you need to be careful, Blake. I know you grown but you still got people that give a fuck about you.”

“I’m fine, Brooks. Chill and let me be. I’ll do better about checking in.”

Blake walked down the hallway humming. Her happiness was important to him, though he felt he might be overdoing things for his own benefit. Even if it wasn’t needed. He waited until he heard the front door close before pulling out his phone. He needed to followup on Emon Dowlen, especially if his sister was going to be seeing him.

He couldn’t stop Blake from seeing Emon, but he could damn sure make sure Emon knew what came with dating a Bishop woman. One call and he could get Emon here for a different kind of conversation, but Blake’s words echoed in his head.I’m your baby sister, but your sister ain’t a baby.

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