Page 78 of A Class of Her Own

“I’m leaving some meals in your freezer,” I called after his retreating form. When he didn’t reply I looked up to the heavens and muttered, “I’m trying, here. I’d better be getting some points for all of this.”

“Who you talking to?” Brooks asked as I moved back to my car to pop the trunk.

“My mother. I like to imagine that she’s watching over us and rolling her eyes as hard as I do sometimes.” I grabbed the cleaning supplies and led the way inside, where I shrugged out of my coat and reached a hand out to take Brooks’s when he’d done the same. “I’m going to clean the bathroom and replace the bedding. My dad keeps a stack of woodworking magazines in the living area. I won’t be long.”

He looked around. “What can I do?”

“Nothing, really. I’ll be back down in a minute.”

I hustled up the stairs, suddenly wishing Brooks was anywhere but here, seeing it all, seeing me and where I’d come from. All those looks he’d given me and the kisses we’d shared, I knew they were about to become ancient history.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Twenty minutes later I had finished the bathroom and was working on removing the sheets from my dad’s bed when I heard the ancient vacuum start up on the main floor. I paused what I was doing and leaned against the wall for a minute. Brooks was vacuuming. I analyzed the way my heart had started pounding and wondered if there was anything more alluring than someone helping with the housework. I pictured him vacuuming and realized there really was nothing to top it—at least not to me. Had I known I found this attractive? Nope. Because no man in my life had ever, ever started randomly vacuuming things. Without being asked. Okay, I’d never asked a guy to vacuum for me . . . but still. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and speed dialed Hailey.

“Hello?” she answered after a few rings.

“Brooks VanOrman is vacuuming my dad’s living room, and I’ve started feeling really warm all over. Inappropriately,” I said in a rushed whisper.

“No way.”

“Yes way. This is really happening, and I’m having feelings about it.”

She made a sound. “I love feelings.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean you can stop them from happening. Why is he there?”

“Aside from the fact that we’ve become friendly and he wanted to help me out, it’s probably more because we’ve been kissing a little.”

“What?” she cried.

I gave her a brief rundown of the ski day and the fight we’d had and hanging out at my place on Christmas Eve. Then that morning and his Christmas gift and pulling leaves out of my hair and that weighted silence.

“Why is my stomach feeling strange?” I moaned.

“Those are called butterflies, and we all get them sometimes,” Hailey replied. “This must mean you enjoyed the kissing parts?”

“Yes, it was like we’d set my brain on fire, but I don’t do butterflies. I’m pro caterpillar.” I started pacing, one hand pushing my hair away from my face. “The vacuum is still going. He’s doing an incredibly thorough job ofcleaning my dad’s house!” I whisper yelled. “What am I supposed to do with this? Why am I so attracted to him right now?”

“Because it’s playing into your deepest wish of having someone see your needs and help take care of things.”

“Willow already does that.”

Hailey laughed—okay, scoffed. “Willow is not a guy with great eyes and sort of a mysterious bad guy vibe going on, and she doesn’t fulfill your needs that way.”

“He’s doesn’t have a bad guy vibe.”

“Speak for yourself on that one. From where I’m sitting he looks like a bad guy, but he’s not. Those guys are . . . What?” A masculine voice from the background said something and Hailey laughed. “Ford thinks he needs to monitor my phone calls from now on. He’s feeling a little jealous over my descriptions of Brooks.”

“Maybe Ford has something to worry about since this is the second time you’ve tried to convince me that Brooks is . . . a hottie.” Even saying the word made my mouth feel sour.

“Did you just call a man a hottie?”

“I’m in a stressful situation. Words aren’t coming to me right now.” The vacuum clicked off, and I stopped pacing. “He’s done.”

“Now what’s he doing?” she asked. “Is he slowly climbing the stairs, building up suspense, only to find you helpless against his charms?”

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