Brooke walked past me and set the tequila and limes on the kitchen counter. She stuck her hands in her back pockets and turned back to me, her eyes quickly scanning over me. It was an awkward moment, and I realized I was still standing with the door open…in just my towel.
Quickly I shut the door and grabbed some clothes from the dresser. The only room in this place that was separated by a door was the bathroom, so that’s where I went to change. I ran some gel through my hair before I went back out.
Brooke was still standing by the counter, nervously twirling a lock of hair around her finger. She looked completely uneasy, and I wondered why she was here if she didn’t want to be.
“Are you okay, Brooke? You seem a little…uncomfortable.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just that all of my friends were busy tonight, and I really didn’t want to be alone. I thought it was really nice of you to invite me over, so that’s why I’m here. But I don’t know if you invited me over just to hang out…or…”
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender and smiled at her. “You looked like you could use a friend. That’s all. So, let’s eat some pizza, have some tequila and you can tell me all about the tattooed asshole.”
She laughed, and the sound washed over and through me. I was right about her smile. In full force, it was breathtaking.
“I don’t want to talk about Chet. Tell me how you wound up here in my grandma’s apartment,” she said as she crossed the small space and sat cross legged on my bed.
I looked around in bewilderment. “This is an apartment?”
She laughed again. “I know, right? My friend, Poppy, used to live here before you moved in. I don’t know how she could stand it. I couldn’t even fit half my shoe collection in that closet, let alone all of my clothes.”
A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the pizza, and I set the box on the bed with a pile of napkins. I took two shot glasses from the cabinet over the sink and sliced up the limes. The salt shaker and bottle of tequila rounded out the beverage tray that I set on the nightstand.
“Ladies first,” I said to Brooke when I handed her a shot. She licked her hand and sprinkled on the salt. I had to pause in my act of pouring my own shot, because the sight of her pink tongue licking over her tan delicate skin would have caused me to pour the tequila straight onto the floor. Brooke tipped back the shot glass, licked the salt from her hand and sucked on a lime. Holy hell.
I had to talk about something boring real fast, or my “just offering friendship” thing was going down the drain.
“So, you really want to know how I ended up here?” I asked, because there was nothing more boring than talking about myself.
Brooke nodded enthusiastically as she took a bite of pizza. She even looked sexy eating pizza. Jesus. We should talk about how a sexy as hell redhead with curves I’ve only dreamed of came to be sitting on my bed. Because shit like that doesn’t happen to me. Ever.
“Well, I grew up in New Jersey. My parents still live there, as does my older sister, Becky. She’s married with two kids and one on the way. After college I started teaching. I always knew I wanted to teach, and I wanted to work with the younger kids. You know, before they get old enough to hate their teachers.”
Brooke smiled. “I’m sure the kids all love you.”
“After a few years in the classroom, I got my Masters degree and took an assistant principal job in New York City. It was a rough neighborhood, and we dealt with a lot of issues that young kids shouldn’t be facing. When I heard about this job, I had to check it out. Not only was it a step up to Principal from Assistant, but it was in a small town.”
“The school is lucky to have you. Principal Edwards had been there forever. I remember him as being really old when I was in school and that was a long time ago,” Brooke said.
I ran my hand through my hair, which was still slightly damp from my shower. “I’m not sure if they really thought I was qualified or if they were just desperate. I heard Principal Edwards’ ‘retirement’ was kind of sudden.”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “Oh, it was sudden all right. What a perv, going after a teenage girl. Some people are still behind him, but seriously, men can be such bastards sometimes.” Then she seemed to remember I was, in fact, a man. “I mean, most men. Not you. I’m sure you’re a great guy.”
“It’s okay. There are a lot of assholes out there. But there are also a lot of good guys too,” I said. She held my gaze, and I could see in her eyes that she didn’t have a lot of faith in that assertion. It was just a guess, but I’d be willing to bet my teaching certificate that Chet wasn’t the first guy to do a number on her.