Page 111 of For the Boys
“I have no clue,” Brent said. “But I’m glad you didn’t. I can’t imagine what you would’ve thought of me had you seen all of that shit happening.”
Berkley walked around the counter to join him, reaching down to grab his hand and give it a squeeze. He scooped her up and set her on the counter, stepping between her thighs.
“I know exactly what kind of man you are, Brent Jean,” she said. He dipped his head and kissed her.
“Oh yeah?” he asked against her mouth. “What kind is that?”
“A good one. The best one.” He smiled and kissed her again.
Mackenzie gagged.
Sex with Brent that night was a slow and thorough affair, and he passed out shortly after, sated.
Berkley, however, couldn’t shut her mind off enough to sleep.
She rolled onto her side to face him, studying him in his sleep. His thick, dark hair was always slightly too long, even right after a haircut, but was always the perfect length for running her hands through it and grabbing fistfuls when his head was between her legs. His dark eyebrows, situated over eyes that, though closed, were the prettiest shade of blue she had ever seen, fringed by criminally long eyelashes, the kind women paid good money to achieve. A long, nearly perfect nose was marred only by a slight bump indicating it had been broken before. Soft, full lips were framed by dark stubble, the beginnings of the full beard he could grow in less than a week.
He was a beautiful man, the kind sculptures were modeled after. While his physical appearance was what had initially drawn her in, that wasn’t what made her stay. No, she stayed because he was smart, loyal, funny, sweet, and ridiculously generous.
Based on his actions and how he treated her, she had guessed he loved her and he was going to say it soon. That moment loomed over her, for she had absolutely no idea how she would handle the situation if she couldn’t say it back. He obviously hadn’t noticed she wasn’t all in, as she had become a master over the years, since Lee, of giving just enough of herself to keep relationships progressing. Despite that, she was falling for Brent, her final walls coming down brick by brick, and she was doing everything she could to reinforce them, shore them up to protect herself.
Falling in love was terrifying, and she couldn’t give Brent the ability to hurt her, knowing if she fell completely and stupidly in love with him, he would.
They always did.
Brent Jean was the kind of man love songs were written about, but he was also the kind that inspired the heartbreak ones, too.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brent
When Brent woke Wednesday morning, Berkley had already gone, leaving the spot next to him on the bed cold.
There was, however, a folded piece of paper waiting for him on her pillow.
Hope the shoot goes well today! Call me later.
XO, Berk
P.S. Sorry I didn’t wake you to say bye. You looked too peaceful, and you work too hard ;)
Brent smiled and rolled onto his back, clutching the note to his chest.
“Brent!” Mackenzie slammed open his door, snapping him from his reverie. “Wakey, wakey, big bro! We’ve got a photoshoot to get to!”
Brent groaned and halfheartedly threw a pillow at her. It landed a few feet short, and she stuck her tongue out at him before disappearing again.
“Get up!” she yelled across the apartment.
“I hate you!” he yelled back.
“No you don’t! I’m making breakfast, so you’ll feel better in a bit. You need to get ready to look all hot and sweaty on camera.”
Brent made a face and got out of bed, throwing a shirt on and padding across the room. The sun was just beginning to brighten the sky beyond his windows.
“Kenz?” Brent said when he walked into the kitchen. There was a steaming mug of coffee waiting for him in front of a bar stool.
“Yeah?”
