Page 22 of Icebreaker
The noise of the raucous restaurant faded into the background as the weight of his words settled around me. Brennen searched my face, and I knew he was trying to convey something important, but I wasn’t sure I understood the message.
The laughter around the table turned heads as other diners turned to watch us. The boys spent the next two hours finding every possible dig at each other and then adding whatever they could make up on the spot. Brennen joined in a few times, but for the most part, he sat back and watched them mess with each other.
What I didn’t expect was how attentive he was to me. He made sure I had a drink, retrieved my fallen napkin, pretended not to notice when I kept my phone in my lap to read a little, and double-checked if my food was correct. When the server dropped off the bill, I reached for my wallet. Brennen put a hand on my forearm with an incredulous look.
“What are you doing?”
I looked at him, the cash on the table, and then back at him again. “Getting my wallet so I can pay.” I didn’t understand the confusion.
“You’re not paying,” Brennen whispered in my ear.
“But there won’t be enough to cover the tab or tip.”
“When you’re with me, I pay.”
Well, shoot. Now what was I supposed to do? He knew money was tight for me, but I still wasn’t a charity case. I’d never expected him to buy me dinner since he’d invited me to be his roommate, maybe friend. And since I was no longer being forced out of my dorm room and was able to keep snacks in the kitchen, I didn’t have to buy food on the fly from vending machines or the corner store, and I’d been saving money. But Brennen’s expression hinted that his statement had nothing to do with my lack of money.
Brennen saw my conflicted hesitation. His hand, which covered mine, squeezed me gently. When I glanced up at him, his eyes were soft. “Please let me get your dinner.”
He phrased his statement as a request, but I knew it wasn’t. It felt like a command. A directive, at least for the moment, from someone who insisted they were taking care of me tonight. Absolutely no part of me wanted to fight Brennen over a check. So I didn’t. With a nod, I eased my hand out of my pocket.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
“Brennen, I don’t understand where this is coming from.”
“When we get home tonight, I’ll explain everything.”
Curiosity was killing me, but Brennen had never been anything but kind and helpful. He’d get the benefit of the doubt from me, even if I was about to explode with the need to know how and where this change had come from.
It would be fine.
It was not fine.
“I’m sorry… You did what?”
After the drive home, where Brennen’s hand never left my thigh, we’d settled into the living room. When he’d told me to change into comfy clothes and grab Peasebottom, I’d known this would be difficult. How bad had remained to be seen, but I’d done as he suggested. I’d sat on the couch, feet tucked under me, with PB clutched tight to my chest. By sheer force of will, I’d kept my voice neutral in response to Brennen’s initial statement.
“I found your pacifier,” Brennen repeated.
High key, those four spoken words freaked me out, but I tried my best to hide it. This ridiculous fantasy had spun out of control. “What makes you think it’s mine? You don’t know how long it’s been there. It probably came with the couch.” My bravado was all faked, but I put as much force as I could muster into it.
“The couch came new from the store and I straighten the cushions every day. The last time, before I found the pacifier this morning, was right before I left for the road trip. It wasn’t there.”
“Oh.” Well, shoot, so much for that excuse.
“It’s yours, right?” Surprisingly, he wasn’t…mad. This upside-down world I’d been dropped into confused me. He’d kissed meafterhe found the pacifier. Surely, that accounted for something. And he was super, duper attentive at dinner. Logically, it made sense that the little thing wasn’t a problem, but my sense of self-preservation wasn’t willing to trust the logic.
“Look, I can explain. It’s a dumb thing…just a joke.”
“A joke with whom?” My real answer was my imaginary friends, so I kept quiet and ignored the question.
Think. Think. Think.
I waved my hand vaguely in the air in an attempt to distract him rather than admit that I didn’t have a plausible answer for his question.
“Can I explain what happened?” Brennen asked gently. I nodded weakly and waited for him to continue. “So I went tostraighten the cushions and found the pacifier and the coloring books you left on the coffee table.”
