Page 5 of Lucky Boys
My fingers froze on the keyboard as soon as I pulled the feed up, haunting me with a face I’d never expected to see in person again. Brooks Foster leaned casually against his bike, while helooked directly at the security camera on the gate, a lollipop stick poking out between his lips.
For all the world, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, but I knew better. His eyes kept darting from the camera to around him without ever really stopping, and he chewed on his lip ring and fiddled with the bracelets he always wore. Brooks was nervous.
“Holy fuck, is that Brooks?” Maverick whispered from behind me.
Mav didn’t know all the details of what had happened that day, but he knew enough. I’d broken the boy’s heart and spent the next three years avoiding him . . . and using Skye as my surrogate stalker to keep an eye on him and his adopted brother.
I nodded, my throat dry. “Let him in. Whatever brought him here has to be important.”
Mav squeezed my shoulder. “You good, boss?”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Just peachy. Let’s get this over with.”
Maverick radioed over to open the gate. I watched on the cameras as Brooks saluted before climbing back on his bike and driving through.
“Find Skye. We’ll meet in the conference room.”
“Got it.” Mav left without another word, his 6’5” frame nearly taking up the entire doorway. Once he was out of my sight, I gave myself exactly five seconds to steel myself against all my emotions. I had good reasons for walking away from Brooks, and I stood by those. I also knew one glance into those dark blue eyes and all those very valid reasons would be wiped clean from my memory.
Brooks Foster was my one weakness, which was why I’d essentially erased him from my life. I’d barely survived walking away the first time, and I had no idea how I’d manage it again.
I made it to the conference room before anyone else, so I took the time to start the fancy coffee maker that Maverick hadinsisted on. I probably didn’t need another coffee, but it gave me something to do. My mind was racing as it went through every scenario that would lead Brooks to my doorstep.
After that night, I’d half expected him to show up or try to follow me. Brooks had always been a little unpredictable, and I’d hurt him badly. He never had though. He’d deleted me from all his social media, not that it had prevented me from seeing him, blocked my phone number, and was always conveniently busy whenever I saw his parents. It had to be desperation that had brought him here, and my first worry was about his father, Dave.
Dave had been sick for a while now, which was why he and his wife, Emma, had retired from the game and left their legacy to their adopted sons. If something had happened to him, would Brooks come to me for help? I wasn’t sure. It would be a last resort, that much I knew.
The door to the conference room opened and Skye sauntered in. He was freshly showered, wearing well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt with the wordsSounds Gay, I’m Inwritten in rainbow print across the chest. His light brown hair was pulled back in a bun, with some wet, loose strands framing his face. He might have been almost thirty, but something about the way his honey brown eyes always glowed with mischief made him seem younger, and only his crooked nose and the faded scar across his cheek gave weight to his true age and the shit he’d seen.
“Hey, boss. Heard my favorite stalking target is here for a visit.” He walked straight to the coffee machine on his bare feet, hips swinging enough that my eyes dragged down to his ass and the way those jeans hugged him in all the right places.
“You don’t stalk him,” I muttered unconvincingly. “I only wanted you to check in on him sometimes.” Like when he took dangerous jobs or insisted on going to the shadiest clubs in the city.
Skye hummed in agreement. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t have time to come up with a comeback before the door opened again and Maverick walked in with Brooks behind him.
Our eyes met and it was like time fucking froze. Last time I’d seen those dark blue eyes, they’d been filled with betrayal and heartbreak. It was a look that haunted me for the last three years. Now, he glared at me with such hatred, and I welcomed it. It was better than the alternative.
“Brooks,” I greeted, impressed with how neutral I kept my tone. I should be the one in control here. I was almost twenty years older, for fuck’s sake. Yet, there was something about the boy that always left me a little uncentered.
Brooks stood in the doorway. I could see how his shoulders shook even as he tried to hide it. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to reach out to him and fix whatever was upsetting him. That it was possibly me that had him bouncing on the balls of his feet in his worn Chucks and clenching his fists was not lost on me. I just hoped . . . it wasn’t. Which, fuck, made me sound like such an asshole. My head was a mess, and I was suddenly questioning every decision I’d made in the last three years, which was a position I did not like to be in.
I took the moment of his uncertainty to take him in. He’d filled out some since his twenty-first birthday, though he’d probably always be slim. I could see some new tattoos on his neck peeking out from the black hoodie he was wearing, a band I’d never heard of on it. He had pushed down his hood, giving me a good glimpse of his dark brown hair that was now bleached on the top and fell in untamed waves. His lip was still pierced, but he’d added a hoop to his nose. He still looked young—hewasonly 24—but somehow more mature than he had before. Like he’d seen some shit and it had shaped him.
Fuck, he looked good.
Brooks chewed on his lip ring, and I wanted to call him out on it so badly, but I refrained. I’d lost the right to do that a long time ago.
Finally, he shook his head, breaking whatever fog was holding him captive, and straightened his shoulders. He walked right into the room and met each of our eyes.
Skye was still by the coffee maker. He leaned against the counter, sipping his cappuccino from the biggest fucking mug I’d ever seen. He grinned at Brooks over the rim.
“Want a coffee?”
Brooks’s jaw flexed and he shook his head. “Nah, I’m good, man. Thanks.” He turned his attention fully to me.
“We need to talk.”
