Page 47 of Forever Never
“Sure. But first we’re going to stop by your place.”
“Okay. Andthenwe’re going on an adventure, right?” she clarified, her green eyes wide and hopeful.
“Yep.” She’d be ready to pass out by the time they got to the cottage. He took her hand and tugged her with him down the sidewalk. It was late, and fat flakes of snow drifted lazily toward the earth.
“Have we done this before?” she asked. “This feels vaguely familiar.”
He’d walked Drunk Remi home on more than a few occasions. Especially in her early twenties when the wild child in flowing sundresses couldn’t help but attract freaking day-tripping fudgies—fudge-shopping tourists—and vacationers with dicks. Men fell for her on sight when she was sober. And when she was half in the bag, the woman was fucking irresistible.
“Brick, your hand is going to get cold,” she said, holding up his bare hand.
“I’ll survive,” he promised her.
“Here. I’ll keep it warm for you,” she said, stuffing his hand wrapped in her own into his coat pocket. “If you weren’t you and I wasn’t me, this would be pretty romantic.”
“Do you wish I wasn’t me?” he asked before catching himself.
“I wish I wasn’t me,” she confessed. “I mostly like you being you.”
“Mostly, huh?” He couldn’t help but smile just a little.
She leaned into his arm, resting her face on his sleeve. “You are really good-looking. Do you know that, Brick? I mean. You just have the whole big, bearded lumberjack deal going on.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s only the best kind of thing. I bet women fall in love with you left and right.”
He decided it was wiser not to answer her and was relieved when she lapsed into silence next to him.
He’d known the second she walked into the bar. The atmosphere changed on a dime. The air electrified as if a storm had rolled in. He’d come out from the back and seen her in that green thermal shirt with the right sleeve cut off just above the cast. The denim that hugged her curves in a way that made his palms itch, his fingers curl in on themselves.
She’d been wrapped in Darius’s arms. And despite the fact that he knew Darius was in love and that Remi had nothing but sisterly feelings for his partner, Brick had still gotten sucker punched in the gut.
He despised the fact that others could be so free, so easy with her. That Darius could hug her and not have it send his world flying apart. That other men could touch her and not realize how fucking precious that contact was.
Remi stumbled over a seam in the sidewalk. He stopped to steady her. “You okay?” he asked.
“Fine and dandy,” she hiccuped, right before she fell off the curb.
“You asked for it,” he warned her. Bending down, he tossed her over his shoulder.
“Hey! Everything’s upside down! Wow. Are you always this far away from the ground?”
He rolled his eyes and plodded on up the street.
“Brick?”
“What?”
“Did you know your hand is on my ass?”
“I am aware,” he said dryly. As if there were anything else in the world he could think about except for the way her denim-clad curves felt under the palm of his hand.
“Is that on purpose or an accident?”
“I don’t really know.”
“Well, since you’re grabbing my ass, it’s only fair I get to grab yours.” Drunk Remi had her own logic, and it was always, always flawed.
