Page 77 of Falling into Place
Hell, he still probably wasn’t, but he didn’t want to think about that right now.
“I might have been popular,” he said, not out of arrogance but as objective fact, “but I didn’t have a lot of friends. Good ones, I mean. I wish I’d had someone like James back then, like Sasha had you.”
“Not even the guys on the basketball team?”
“I mean, we hung out and stuff, sure. But we were also all jockeying to be the best and outshine each other, on the court or off. I’m not sure guys have the same friendships that girls do at that age.”
Or maybe it had just been him.
“That kind of sucks. It seems like that’s when we all need it the most.”
He regarded the building behind her, thinking. “Coach filled that role for me sometimes. When he caught me getting really low, he’d give me one of his tough-love pep talks and knock me out of it.” He’d been more of a friend than most of the guys at school, that was for sure.
Carly was quiet for a beat, and he looked over to find her frowning.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I was thinking I’m not sure tough is the kind of love people need when they’re hurting.”
He considered that for a moment. From the little Brooks knew about his early life, Coach hadn’t had it easy and was a big believer in both mental and physical strength and self-reliance. “You might be right, but it worked for me back then. He knew how hard things could be, and I think he just wanted to prepare us to be successful in this world.”
“Well,” Carly said. “You turned out pretty amazing, so I guess whatever he did worked.”
“Amazing? Really?” He definitely didn’t agree, but he wouldn’t mind hearing her say it again.
“Really,” she confirmed.
God, he wanted to kiss her.
That’s when a man came through the glass doors, and his office wear reminded Brooks of the favor he had to ask.
“So I need your help with something. It’s kind of an emergency.”
She frowned. “What is it?”
“I need a suit.”
She’d been reaching for her drink, still on the hood, and her hand froze midair. “Sorry?”
He grinned. “Carly Porter,” he started, as if he were about to ask her a life-changing question. “I need you to help me find a suit.”
“I’ve been trying to get you to let me buy you a suit for months.”
“I know. I didn’t think I needed one, but now I do.”
She was silent for a beat, then squealed and clapped a hand across her mouth, eyes wide. “I really get to do it? For real?”
“If I’d known it would make you this happy, I’d have let you do it a long time ago.”
She snorted. “I believe the last time I brought it up your exact words were, ‘Give it up, Carly, I don’t need a fucking suit.’”
He shrugged. “That was before you kissed me. I’m a new man.”
“Before you kissed me, you mean.”
“Well, yeah. That. Plus I have a fancy gala thing for work I forgot about.”
“Ah,” she said. “Got it. When is it?”
