breaking for her. I don't know what to say or do. It makes me angry that she's apologizing, but I'm even angrier that life has dealt her such a harsh hand.
At a loss for words, all I can come up with is, “Goodnight, Alexis.” It feels horribly underwhelming considering what she just shared with me. My mind is blown, and part of me wishes I never would have asked about the truth because I can hardly believe that anyone would be so cruel to such a sweet, beautiful girl.
“Goodnight, Brodie.”
PEPPER
I lay on my side in the darkness, unable to face Brodie. Perhaps I disclosed too much, but I felt like I owed him something for all of the kindness he's shown me tonight. I've epically failed at my job of pleasing the client. Not only did we not have sex, but I couldn't fulfill the simple request of dancing for him. It makes me feel so useless.
I rest my face on the pillow and wish that I could inhale Brodie's scent. The linens are freshly washed, though, so unless I'm right on top of him, that's not going to happen. If only he would wrap his arms around me. That's what I really want right now, to be held.
It's been a traumatic night, and yet it hasn't all at the same time. The vast majority of the struggle has gone on inside my head. Brodie never laid a finger on me. Not in the way I secretly wanted him to, at least. And the fact that he's been mostly a gentleman just makes me desire him that much more.
It shouldn't have been this way. He should have brought me here, undressed me, and had his way with me. I should have broken inside and realized that I could make it through this, that this life wouldn't destroy me after all. None of that happened, though. He deflected my advances, and now I feel...unattractive. Unwanted. Undesirable.
I sigh, longing to be comforted. I've never needed to be comforted before. No. That's bullshit. Everyone wants to be comforted from time to time. I've just never had the option available to me. You'd think that I'd be used to that by now, but I'm not. Maybe I never will be.
I pull the pillow down so that I'm half hugging it, half laying on it, then I close my eyes and listen to Brodie's breathing. I wonder who he is and why he's really here, why he came to James' beach house. I suppose it doesn't really matter. Tomorrow I'll leave and never see him again. It's just as well that he remains a stranger to me.
***
The night is blessedly dreamless. More often than not, I wake up in a cold sweat thanks to my mind torturing me with some past transgression. What I told Brodie before we went to sleep was just a small sample of the horrors I've lived through. The rated G version.
A smile creeps across my lips as I splay my fingers over the mattress. So soft. So much better than the pile of clothing on the floor that I've been sleeping on. I can't help but wonder if this is the last time I'll sleep in a bed in a while. That thought makes me not want to move, makes me want to pretend to be asleep forever.
I can't do that to Brodie, though. He's been too kind to me, and I don't want to be more of a burden than I already have been. Begrudging at my crappy life, I force myself to rise, turning over to look at Brodie's spot. It's empty.
I pull myself up and find my dress where I left it on the chair in the corner of the room, quickly slipping it over my head and then stepping into my heels before going to search for Brodie. He's in the bathroom, shaving with the door open and a towel wrapped around his waist. As soon as I lay my eyes on him, butterflies swirl in my stomach. If only he could be mine. That would be too close to a fairytale, though, and there are no fairytales in my life, only horror stories and dramas. Staring at him longingly isn't going to change the fact that in a short while this will all be over.
He's on the down stroke, shaving a patch of his neck when he notices me in the mirror. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I reply, leaning
At a loss for words, all I can come up with is, “Goodnight, Alexis.” It feels horribly underwhelming considering what she just shared with me. My mind is blown, and part of me wishes I never would have asked about the truth because I can hardly believe that anyone would be so cruel to such a sweet, beautiful girl.
“Goodnight, Brodie.”
PEPPER
I lay on my side in the darkness, unable to face Brodie. Perhaps I disclosed too much, but I felt like I owed him something for all of the kindness he's shown me tonight. I've epically failed at my job of pleasing the client. Not only did we not have sex, but I couldn't fulfill the simple request of dancing for him. It makes me feel so useless.
I rest my face on the pillow and wish that I could inhale Brodie's scent. The linens are freshly washed, though, so unless I'm right on top of him, that's not going to happen. If only he would wrap his arms around me. That's what I really want right now, to be held.
It's been a traumatic night, and yet it hasn't all at the same time. The vast majority of the struggle has gone on inside my head. Brodie never laid a finger on me. Not in the way I secretly wanted him to, at least. And the fact that he's been mostly a gentleman just makes me desire him that much more.
It shouldn't have been this way. He should have brought me here, undressed me, and had his way with me. I should have broken inside and realized that I could make it through this, that this life wouldn't destroy me after all. None of that happened, though. He deflected my advances, and now I feel...unattractive. Unwanted. Undesirable.
I sigh, longing to be comforted. I've never needed to be comforted before. No. That's bullshit. Everyone wants to be comforted from time to time. I've just never had the option available to me. You'd think that I'd be used to that by now, but I'm not. Maybe I never will be.
I pull the pillow down so that I'm half hugging it, half laying on it, then I close my eyes and listen to Brodie's breathing. I wonder who he is and why he's really here, why he came to James' beach house. I suppose it doesn't really matter. Tomorrow I'll leave and never see him again. It's just as well that he remains a stranger to me.
***
The night is blessedly dreamless. More often than not, I wake up in a cold sweat thanks to my mind torturing me with some past transgression. What I told Brodie before we went to sleep was just a small sample of the horrors I've lived through. The rated G version.
A smile creeps across my lips as I splay my fingers over the mattress. So soft. So much better than the pile of clothing on the floor that I've been sleeping on. I can't help but wonder if this is the last time I'll sleep in a bed in a while. That thought makes me not want to move, makes me want to pretend to be asleep forever.
I can't do that to Brodie, though. He's been too kind to me, and I don't want to be more of a burden than I already have been. Begrudging at my crappy life, I force myself to rise, turning over to look at Brodie's spot. It's empty.
I pull myself up and find my dress where I left it on the chair in the corner of the room, quickly slipping it over my head and then stepping into my heels before going to search for Brodie. He's in the bathroom, shaving with the door open and a towel wrapped around his waist. As soon as I lay my eyes on him, butterflies swirl in my stomach. If only he could be mine. That would be too close to a fairytale, though, and there are no fairytales in my life, only horror stories and dramas. Staring at him longingly isn't going to change the fact that in a short while this will all be over.
He's on the down stroke, shaving a patch of his neck when he notices me in the mirror. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I reply, leaning
Similar Books
The Cottage Next Door
Georgia Bockoven
Another Brooklyn
Jacqueline Woodson
Caroline and the Duke: A Regency Short Story
Sabrina Darby
The Subtle Knife
Philip Pullman
Waking Hearts
Elizabeth Hunter
Rain Dance
Joy DeKok
Bad Haircut
Tom Perrotta
It Happened One Christmas
Kaitlin O'Riley
Once Upon a Summer
Janette Oke
Savannah Reid 12 - Fat Free and Fatal
G. A. McKevett