As he turned and walked up the steps to the shower, he was glad that, at least, she was saying that she would talk to him. And a shower probably wasn't a bad idea.
Chapter Twenty-Three
You are being ridiculous, Becca told herself as she stood and paced the living room. With every step, she grew more and more agitated. Irritation and anger mixed together inside of her like Vodka and cranberry to create the perfect, jealous Cosmo.
No matter how many times Becca had told herself to stop acting like an overly possessive girlfriend, she just kept on playing the role like she'd been born for it. She shook out her hands in front of her, hoping she could just shake the jealously off.
Then she waited for a moment to see if it worked. Nope. She still felt like punching a wall. She had to pull herself together. She only had a few minutes until Brian got out of the shower and would be down here wanting to talk.
Brian hadn't even done anything wrong, yet she just kept getting more and more mad. She felt like the anger was boiling up inside of her like a pressure cooker that was about to explode, which made no sense.
Why was she acting like this?
Why was the thought that maybe Brian and Brooklyn had had sex, making her this crazy?
If they had, then … they had. Nothing she could do would change that now. And she didn't even know if they had.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she just needed to know one way or the other. Maybe then she could put it out of her mind.
Knowledge is power, she told herself.
Yeah, and ignorance is bliss, a little voice in the back of her mind chimed in.
Ignoring the second statement, she decided to focus on getting the information she needed, before she lost her mind. Knowledge. Yep. Good plan.
As she took the steps two at a time, she felt like she was on a mission for her sanity. She had no idea if it was going to be a successful mission, but it was worth a shot.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she practically sprinted to the bathroom door. Her hand flew up and knocked on the wooden surface, but since the door wasn't latched, it slammed opened.
"What the the-" Brian looked over his shoulder from where he stood with his back to her, shirtless, his hand on the knob turning on the spray of the shower.
Becca's mouth went dry as she took in the rippling, smooth muscles of his broad back. Her body instantly responded to his half-naked appearance. Her knees went weak, the buds of her nipples tightened, and a shudder rolled through her from head to toe.
"Becca?" Brian turned, looking confused.
And why wouldn't he be?
She'd been acting like a crazy person since he'd picked her up from The Grill. Which was why she needed to ignore the way her body felt, ignore every cell in her body screaming at her to walk over to him, pull the erection she could see bulging out of his pants, get on her knees in front of him, and take him in her mouth (which was strange because she'd never done that before). She was a blow-job virgin. But as much as she wanted to pop her BJ cherry, she knew that was not what she needed to do.
What she did need to do was just ask him, flat out, what had happened in Mexico, behind the closed door of their bungalow.
Yes. She needed to ignore her impulse and clear the air. Then, hopefully, she could circle back to her impulse, because mouthwateringly tasty wasn't even the tip of describing Brian's iceberg.
"Did you sleep with Brooklyn?" she blurted out before her mind wandered back to going down on his iceberg like the Titanic.
"No. Why?" he snapped at her, looking none too happy about her line of questioning. Or maybe it was her tactic at inquiring about the information that he didn't love so much. Either way, he did not look happy.
Becca realized that, not only did she need to ignore her overactive hormones, but she also needed to ignore her totally out-of-proportion jealousy and just talk to him like they always talked.
Steam began filling the room as she moved one step closer. Still keeping her distance, she looked up into his caramel-colored eyes, and in the moment she looked at him-really looked at him-she felt their old connection and the words just flowed out of her mouth like a truth river.
"I was watching the show and I didn't realize how seeing you"-Becca swallowed so loud that it could probably have been classified as a gulp-"with Brooklyn, kissing Brooklyn, would make me feel. I hated it. Then, the reason I left The Grill, before the show was even over, was because they showed her kissing you and then you both going into the bungalow, closing the door, and then there was moaning and I thought that you were … "
Becca felt herself starting to get choked up, so she stopped talking and looked down to the floor in frustration. She just needed to talk to him, not be all blubbery. Becca didn't understand why she couldn't just have a normal conversation about this with Brian, without her emotions hijacking it and heading straight to emotional meltdown territory.
"Come here," Brian said, sounding tired and … sad.
Becca's worry alarm started going off, and it wasn't a drill. Something was really wrong with her best friend.
Without hesitating, she took two steps and closed the distance between them. Brian raked his fingers through her hair and he pulled her to his chest, like he had a million times before. But this time, it was better. Not only because he was shirtless, but also because she knew that, if she wanted to press her lips to his bare chest, she could.
Or at least she thought she could. They hadn't really discussed it.
First things first. She could circle back to her impulses and kissing.
"Are you okay, Bri?" Becca asked, rubbing her hands up and down the smooth slope of his back. She could feel tension radiating off of him as strong as the sun rays at the beach on a hot day.
"As long as I have you, I'll be okay," his voice broke with huskiness as he kissed the top of her head, and she felt his hand run down her back.
This time, his large hand didn't stop where it always did-right above her butt. No, this time, he continued down and cupped her backside, squeezing it as he pulled her even closer to him.
Becca knew that something was really bothering Brian, and she really wished she hadn't been so upset about the Brooklyn thing and actually noticed that something was off with him. Brian never let things bother him, really bother him, and she knew that whatever he was upset about must be serious.
Becca felt the strain of his erection pressing into her hip, growing larger with each possessive squeeze of his hand on her rear. As much as she liked where this was going, she needed to know if Brian was okay. Stepping back, she tried to ignore the arousal coursing through her veins and to keep her voice even so she didn't sound like Marilyn singing "Happy Birthday, Mr. President."
"Brian, what's wrong?"
He looked at her, and the pain she saw in his eyes broke her heart. She could tell that he was warring with whether or not to tell her what was going on, and that made the uneasy feeling in her stomach expand to the size of Mount Everest.
"Brian, what is it?" her voice was laced with panic.
"Do you know I didn't do anything with Brooklyn that wasn't in front of the cameras, for the show?"
"Yes," she answered immediately.
The second he'd said that he hadn't slept with her, she'd known it was true. The only reason she started crying when she'd told him was because … she was just so overwhelmed.
A look of relief flashed in his eyes then, an intensity replaced it. His piercing gaze shot all the way down to her soul.
Brian's voice was gruff and low as he spoke, "There's a lot of stuff going on with my family, but I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't want talk about it or think about it. I just want you. I want lose myself in you. I need you, Becca."
She felt his desperation for her emanating off of him in waves. And she needed him just as much. Whatever was going on, that was causing the sadness in his eyes, could wait.
Becca's heart pounded violently in her chest as she reached out and began unbuttoning Brian's jeans. As she pulled down his zipper, she felt his fingers dip beneath the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. Lifting her arms so he could remove it, she heard him cuss under his breath. Looking down to see what was wrong, she saw the cause of the profanity. She'd forgotten that she'd worn the white, lace bra-and-panty set beneath her clothes today with the hope that this very thing would happen-that Brian would see her in them.
Her eyes lifted to his and she saw the hunger in his eyes as he stared, unabashedly and unapologetically at her chest.
Well, if he liked that, then …
Just like she had with his jeans, she unbuttoned and unzipped her denim shorts. Then she watched his face as she pushed her cut-off shorts over her hips and stepped out of them. When she straightened, he stepped back. She wasn't sure if he stumbled backwards or just wanted a better view, but whatever the reason, she liked the way his reaction made her feel.