Page 75 of For the Boys
“I am too.” He smiled and switched to massaging her toes. Normally, Berkley hated having her feet touched, but Brent’s strong hands were doing wonders for the soreness in them.
“So…tomorrow,” he said.
“What about it?”
“Well, I figured you would want to come to my game on the second, so I thought you could come home with me tomorrow.”
“Wait, what?”
“We’ll run to your house early and get your stuff packed before we head out.” He had moved to her toes, lightly massaging the pads. Pulling her feet from his grasp, she stood and stalked away from the bed. “I have practice at two. Obviously I can’t participate, but I need to be there.”
“Wait wait wait. You’re expecting me to go back a week early? Just to watch your game? Brent, you’re not even playing.”
Brent looked dumbfounded. “Well, yeah...I figured we could have all of that time before you go back to school to spend together.”
“And you just assumed I would be okay with this? With you just...showing up here and trying to take me away?”
“Berk, what the hell is wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”
“Well I’m not! I’m not ready to leave. I haven’t been home in six months, Brent. I know you know what that’s like.”
“Yeah, I get it, but I figured you’d be bored by now.”
“Bored? This is the first chance I’ve had to relax for more than a few days in months! I get to see my family every day! I’m not just sitting here twiddling my thumbs, biding my time until I go back to school!” She was full-blown shouting now, but she didn’t care. Howdarehe?
“Babe, calm down, please,” Brent pleaded. “I didn’t think—”
“You’re right! You didn’t think! You know why I hate being surprised, Brent? Because I don’t like people deciding things for me. I’m glad you’re here, don’t get me wrong, but you should have asked me about this.” Pausing, she took a deep breath. “And I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. You had no right to approach Lee the way you did.”
Brent seemed to be at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth with no sound coming out. They both remained silent for several tense moments, Berkley breathing heavily and pacing, Brent seated on the bed looking dazed.
When Berkley had worked out her anger, she sat next to him and grabbed his hand, all the fight leaving her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have screamed at you. It doesn’t make me mean what I said any less, though.”
“I know,” he said, locking their fingers together. “I’m just not used to dating someone like you.”
“Someone like me, huh?”
“Yeah, you know…” he said. “Someone who can take care of herself. Someone strong. I’m sorry for making you mad enough to want to scream at me.”
Berkley blushed. “It’s not entirely your fault. I think seeing Lee tonight shook me up too.”
Brent pulled her into a hug. “I am glad you dumped a drink over his head.” He chuckled. “I wish I could have seen that.”
They sat there not speaking for a while. Berkley broke the silence. “I don’t want to go to your game. I don’t want to leave early.”
“I know, baby. You don’t have to.”
Berkley had never been big on pet names, but she couldn’t deny that Brent calling her “baby” made her feel oddly safe and protected.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m still really, really glad you came tonight.”
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be.”
For the second time that night, Brent pulled Berkley onto his lap and kissed her, his lips soft and warm against her own. As she fisted one hand in the short hairs at the back of his neck, knowing her hands would come away with the coconut oil and aloe vera scent of his pomade, she placed the other on the front of his dress shirt and began slowly undoing the buttons, exposing his bare chest.
Lightly she scraped her fingernails up his stomach and bare skin, making him sigh against her mouth. When he ran his tongue across the seam of her lips, she opened up for him. Their tongues danced together, breaths coming shorter and shorter as their urgency increased until Berkley pulled away, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses to the side of his neck, trailing her nose across his throat and repeating the process on the other side. The glimpse of dark ink trailing across his left pec reminded Berkley that Brent had a tattoo, and she pushed his shirt completely off his shoulders, desperate for her first full, in-person view.
