Chapter Twenty-One
Her eyes flashed at him angrily, and a frustrated sigh ripped form her lips. "Could you be a little more aware of the person on the other side of these cuffs, please? This is getting just a little ridiculous. I don't appreciate being yanked around everywhere," she shot at him. "Besides, it would be nice if you could help me a little. This isn't exactly a job I can do when my good wrist is stuck to one of yours."
A smirk appeared on his lips, and he stared at her for a moment before speaking. "Wasn't it a few months ago, when you told me that you could do anything by yourself? That you never needed help? And now you're asking for my help. Big surprise there, Brooklyn. I should have known that you can't do anything right."
Her eyes closed for a moment. "Just...shut up and help me, would you?"
This time, he obliged, helping pull back the blankets on the bed. Brooklyn crawled across to one side as he sat down on the other. She pushed her legs under the blanket, and pulled them up, forcing his hand to go up at the same time. He waited until they were both comfortable before reaching out and turning off the lamp beside him, which was the only source of light in the room.
The sound of hair rustling on pillowcases, and the two of them shifting filled the room for a moment before Brooklyn turned her head to the side. It had been a full twelve hours since they had been locked together unceremoniously by Chris, and nothing was better. In fact, things were getting worse. Neither one of them had relented in the slightest, and the name calling contests were continuing. There was nothing playful about this one, though.
It hurt to have him laying beside her. She could feel the cold bracelet on her wrist easily, making her attachment to him known. It wasn't the type of attachment that she would have wanted, however, and to know that this was being done against her will...it hurt to know that a friend had to go that far to try and make them get their acts together. Since when had the two of them been this stupid to allow something like this to happen.
And yet there were constant reminders of him wherever she went. The necklace she wore around her neck was just one example. Even in the dark, the faint light from the window caught on the silver letters, and made the diamond chips in the center sparkle a little. It wasn't bad enough that no matter where she went, someone just had to link his name to hers, whether it was a nosy reporter or a concerned friend. Whenever she heard anyone begin a word or a name with a J, she looked in their direction, wondering who knew about them, who knew him, who knew her.
What hurt even more was that she could smell him. She could smell his cologne, she could smell the scent of soap drifting from him, shampoo...even toothpaste got her. It all hit her at once and made her think back to the times that she loved those smells. The times when he used to wrap his arms around her and she would know that she was the only one that could smell that. She was the lucky one that got to be with him. That had all changed, hadn't it?
As tears started to gather in her eyes, she took a deep breath and turned her head away, looking towards the window. One traitorous tear slipped out of her eye and down her face to land on the pillowcase. What was the point of crying? It didn't help anything. They were fighting, and there was a sinking feeling inside of her that let her know that the two of them would probably never be like they had before. They wouldn't be like they had been a month ago, when it seemed that nothing could be wrong with the world, and she could watch him from a distance, wondering what his lips would feel like against hers again.
She tried to hide it by pushing her head into the pillowcase, making noise, but JC still heard the sniffle come from her, and his head turned to look at her dark form. The reason that she was crying as because of him, he knew that plain as day, but what could he do about it? He didn't even want to fight with her. He had never wanted to fight with her. That was the last thing that he wanted to do.
He wanted to reach out when he saw her shaking shoulders, but he couldn't. As much as he wanted to reassure her, apologize, there was nothing to apologize for. There was no "bad guy" in this situation. He teased her relentlessly, and she teased him right back. It wasn't like it used to be. It wasn't the friendly teasing and flirting competitions they had had before. Now it was more about who could hurt the other one more, and he seemed to be winning.
All of the hurtful words that he had said to her in the past twelve hours were coming out in tears. He could feel her shaking beside him, but he couldn't do anything about it. He tried to reach out one more time, and he got closer this time, but his hand still couldn't rest against her, to turn her towards him. He just couldn't get up the courage to do it, and that seemed to be a running theme with Brooklyn. It all came down to courage.
Yet he had the courage to call her down, didn't he? He had started the name calling, the cruel teasing, and HE KNEW IT. He knew that he had started it. Never once did JC think that every time Brooklyn had retaliated, it was because he had said something first, because he had delivered the first blow. Humor was always a defense for her, but this could have been a new type of defense that he had never encountered before. She was just defending herself against him, and keeping everything inside until now.
He just couldn't do anything, and it took a lot, but he turned his head away to look at the opposite wall. There was nothing to see, but it was better than putting himself through hell and making himself watch her. He didn't want to see her cry, he didn't want to hear her cry...he never wanted to make her cry. It hurt to know that he had created those tears in her eyes. He was the one that had created them, and she was just letting them fall.
Raising his head a little bit, he looked back and sighed. There was nothing that he could do. So his head went back on the pillow and he turned away again, closing his eyes. The least he could do was block it out and not let her know that he knew. Give her a little bit of well deserved privacy.
JC still couldn't fully understand everything that has happened, and the fight was just one example. They had never really fought before. the only other time was when he was staying in Nashville, and it had to do with Time. God, that name still filled him with anger. That was the day that he had practically pushed her into Tim's arms, or more specifically, into his fists. He had gone over that day so many times in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently. Wondering what he could have done so that it never would have happened.
But things were meant to happen, and he probably couldn't have stopped anything. He wasn't the master of the universe, he wasn't God. He couldn't do anything to stop anything in life. But it still hurt, just like it hurt to lay beside her and listen to her cry and know that he couldn't do anything to stop it.
"Brooklyn?" he asked softly, wincing when he heard that name come from his lips. It just didn't sound right, it never had. It was almost like he stumbled over the name, not wanting to say it. "New York?"
She stiffened quickly, and didn't make a sound. He knew that Brooklyn was awake but she wasn't saying anything. She was pretending to sleep. "I know you're still awake, New York."
Again, she didn't say anything. What did he want to say to begin with? Apologize, his mind told him. You need to apologize. And he was ready to, even though he hadn't done anything wrong. He was ready to say that he was sorry, because those tears...that meant a lot to him to know that HE of all people had created those tears that were falling down her face. "Fine."
He turned back away, leaving her in peace. Leaving her to cry by herself.
She pulled her hand back, making him yelp in surprise. "God damn it, what are you trying to do, make me cut my throat?" he asked incredulously. It had already been a long morning, breakfast definitely not the high point of it. This was just another example. Brooklyn had pulled him into the bathroom three times already, wanting to brush her teeth over and over, only because she knew that he hated to stand there and wait. The not so bright idea of shaving had entered his mind the last time she had brought him in.
"We couldn't be that lucky, could we?" she muttered, reaching for the toothpaste tube. "My luck has never been that good."
He sneered, and picked up the can of shaving gel on the counter. With an evil smile covering her face, he waited until she squeezed the tube (in the middle, which was something that he couldn't stand), and pulled his hand towards him. She looked down at the counter with a smirk before raising her eyes towards his. "You're going to have to clean that up," she told him. "There is no way in hell that I'm ever going to clean up your messes for you."
An innocent look spread on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Brooklyn. Did I do something wrong? My bad." Now it was her turn to wait, and at just the right moment, she pulled her hand towards her. "Looks like you have something to clean up, too."
She blinked three times before wrapping her hand around the toothpaste tube and reaching forward, putting a blue gel arc across his bare chest. "It's only fair that we have the same amount to clean up, and mine seems to be bigger than yours. I think we're even now."
"Oh, you think so, do you?" he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. He moved too quick for her, putting a daub of the green shaving gel on the top of her head, watching as it turned a foamy white. Her head turned towards the mirror and she stared at herself with her mouth open. "You're catching flies, New York."
Her eyes narrowed, and she reached into the sink full of cold water before scooping some up and tossing it at him. "You're going down."
They started to throw everything they could at each other, both of them laughing as JC started to pull her away from the sink so that she would be away from the water. Never once did it register in their minds that they were supposed to be fighting, apparently hating each other. Brooklyn's eyes went up to his, as she took hold of the bottle of perfume on the counter, an evil smile spreading on her face as she ignoring his hands pulling it away from her before sending a fine spray of it across his stomach, laughing even louder when he gasped at the coolness of it.
The sound of their laughter brought Chris out of his room and caused him to look at the two of them, wrestling to get control of the shaving gel. He stood there, his hands on his hips for a moment, before clearing his throat. Both of them stopped laughing instantly and looked towards him, with a deer in the headlights look. "You guys are getting along now?"
They looked back at each other, and it was like before, when they could practically read each other's minds. A smile spread on Brooklyn's face as she turned back to look at him. "Yeah, we are, why?" she asked innocently.
Chris narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You mean, you guys are getting along? Like, you're friends again. That didn't take too long." Again, the suspicious look covered his face.
JC decided to talk this time. "We just...realized how stupid we were being." She had to restrain herself from not kicking him for the comment.
A sigh sounded from the door frame. "Fine. I'll go and get the key."
As soon as he was gone from the room, Brooklyn yanked his head down. "Don't you dare say anything when he comes back. I don't' want to be attached to you for life, all right? Just keep your big mouth shut and then you can leave happily." His head came back up, being released by her arm, just as Chris walked back in, a pair of keys dangling from his hand.
"Put them out," he said dejectedly, as the two of them put out the hands that were cuffed together. The click of the lock releasing put a smile on Brooklyn's face, and she rubbed her wrist as soon as it was let out. A red mark still remained from the times that she had been pulled or yanked, or did it herself. "Here, you guys might want to use these later," he added with a smirk, tossing both the handcuffs and the keys on the bed.
The can in Brooklyn's hand was dropped and hit the floor after Chris walked out. JC stared at her for a moment, before making his move to pick it up. She saw where he was going, and went after it herself. There would be nothing funny about the fight this time, she realized as she got it a millisecond before he managed to touch it, and held it up threateningly. "You wouldn't dare," he said slowly, backing up.
She followed him, one finger on the trigger. "Oh, yes, I would," she added with a dry smile, advancing ever closer to him. He reached out for the can, and they started to fight for it again, continuing to back up. The backs of his legs hit the bed and he grabbed onto her waist when he saw that she was falling, too. Her hand dropped the can in surprise, and she fell forward, trying to break her fall with her good hand that no longer had the metal bracelet around it.
He held her carefully so that she wouldn't hurt herself, and kept her held just above his chest as he landed with his head on the pillow. Her eyes were closed, waiting for some sort of jolt from falling, but opened them cautiously when it never came. That was her big mistake.
Blue met green, and it was impossible for either of them to look away. Knowing that her hand was supporting her somewhat, he moved his hand from her hip to her lower back, spreading out his fingers so that it covered the entire span of her back. It was almost like he was trying to memorize every single fleck of gold color in her green eyes as he stared into them.
Two moves, both done by him, were done unconsciously. The first was him licking his dry lips. The second was his hand moving up to run his fingers up and down her spine, making her want to shudder. It wasn't so much the fact that she was cold, because she wasn't, but it was because of the heat she felt coming from his hand on her back. It was funny to think that heat could make her shudder, but it was HIS heat so there was a big difference.
His hand moving on her back was a soft caress that she wanted to stop, but couldn't even dare to think of putting her hand back there and stilling the hand. It hurt to look at him, but it hurt more to look away, so she remained where she was. The only sound was their gentle breathing as they continued to look at each other, neither one wanting to move away. Neither one having the strength to move away.
Slowly, his other hand came off of her hip and moved towards her hand, the one that was holding her up on the bed. He picked it up slowly, and laced his fingers through hers, still staring in her eyes. She remained up somehow, with her cast covered wrist laying by his head on the pillow.
Even slower yet, he raised his head slightly, not breaking their gaze. If she thought his hand moving on her back was a soft caress, his lips against hers were an even softer caress. But they still didn't close their eyes. The kiss was over almost as fast as it started, but that didn't matter.
As his head it the pillow again, she followed it, following his lead. To feel that pressure against her lips one more time brought back all of the feelings that she had tried so hard to suppress in the last little while, and it fit her full force as she fell against him softly. As soon as that happened, they let their eyes closed, the emotions inside of them being too much for them to handle.
In one swift move, he turned them both over, as she took her hand away from his, and ran her fingers lightly down his slightly rough jaw, inhaling sharply when she felt it. It had been something that she had never liked on anyone before, but to feel the stubble on his face against her finger tips, or against the sensitive skin of her own face was completely sensuous. It was like unlike something she had never felt before.
It was almost with an urgency that his lips captured hers again, taking her breath away for the second time in two minutes. Then again, he always took her breath away. The hand that had been pulled into her hair suddenly came away, but she barely noticed. That is, barely noticed until she felt the familiar coolness of metal around her wrist. JC pulled away instantly and grinned brightly down at her. "See you later, Brooklyn," he said, getting up off the bed.
Her eyes widened and she pulled at her wrist, wincing when the handcuff bit into her skin. "Damn it, JC! Get your ass back here and let me go!" she said. Her eyes landed on the keys beside her foot, and she curled her toes with a concentrating look on her face as she tried to pull them closer to her. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye as he was washing the toothpaste off of him before he jumped forward and took them into his hand.
"I don't think so," he said, pushing them into the pocket of his pants.
Her eyes rolled as she watched him pick up a tee shirt and pull it over his head. "What happened to us?" she asked suddenly. He turned in surprise when he heard the emotion in her voice. The sadness, regret, and confusion that she tried to hide. "How did we get to this point? The last thing I wanted to do was fight with you."
And there it was again. A tear sparkled in her eye as she stared at him, refusing to break the gaze again. "You tell me. You started this whole thing," he said lowly, turning away one more time.
"What, this is all on my shoulders now? Because I was scared? Thanks a lot. You sure know how to show that you care about someone," she said in a soft voice, putting her eyes downward. That didn't mean that she didn't see his shoulders stiffen, his muscles tighten, even though he had never turned around to look at her.
His sigh ripped through the silence of the room before he turned around and hopped up on the top of the low dresser, kicking his heels against the drawers. Slowly, his hands rubbed his face before he finally looked at her between his fingers. "What, exactly WHAT were you so scared of? I'm curious, Brooklyn, because I'm just as confused as you are. You never talk to me anymore, so how the hell am I supposed to know what you're so scared of?"
Both of their heads turned towards the door when they heard Chris walking down the hallway, and JC got up, locking the door before he could get in. "Chris, can you just give us a few minutes, please?"
"You're...not killing each other or anything in there, are you? Because blood is kind of hard to get out of carpet." It was a weak attempt at humor for him, and it didn't work on either person in the room.
"No, we're not. We just need some time to talk. Could you call Mia and tell her that I'm going to be a little late? I'm not leaving until we get this thing settled." Brooklyn looked down at her lap again. "Not that I can exactly help it right now," she added in a low voice, trying to relax against the handcuff.
They waited until Chris walked away, mumbling something about it being his house under his breath before she looked back at him. "Do you think that you could let me go, please? It's not like I'm going to attack you or anything, but I'm not exactly comfortable like this, and my wrist is killing me."
He moved towards her slowly, avoiding her eyes, before he unlocked the cuffs. "Damn it, that's the second time that I've been handcuffed in two days. This is turning into some sort of record for me." She rubbed her wrist on the pillow, sighing as the cool material slipped over the red mark.
"Don't change the subject. You're not as good at it as you think," he warned her, going back to the dresser to sit down. He really didn't want to sit anywhere near her, because he didn't want to lose control again. He didn't want to forget the fact that he wasn't supposed to like her right now. But she had that affect on him. "What are you so scared of?" She leaned forward a little, and he watched as her necklace came form under her shirt, swinging free. "New York?" he asked, looking towards her again.
She still wouldn't meet her eyes, but continued to rub her wrist against the bed. "I don't know," she whispered.
His hands slammed down on the top of the dresser with a loud smack. "Here we go again," he said under his breath, rolling his eyes. "You DO know, but you won't tell me anything anymore. Why? Why won't you talk to me? Did I do something wrong? Did you do something wrong? Or are you just trying to piss me off, because if you are, you're doing a pretty good job of it here."
Brooklyn simply breathed for a few minutes before she looked up, fire in her eyes. "There's a reason why I don't want to tell you. Because...because I don't know how you would react if I told you. That's it, all right? Shit, Chris knows. Why don't you ask him."
"I know that Chris knows. You've been talking to him a lot recently. Tell me the truth, Brooklyn. Which one of us do you want, if you want either of us at all. You've strung me along, you're starting to string him along...which one? What, can't make up your mind?"
"You're an ass. You know that, don't you? How many times do I have to tell you that there could be nothing between me and Chris, because I don't get that feeling. You know, the feeling where it's like Heaven and Earth have collided, the ground is tilting, you can't tell left from right, your stomach does the Lindy Hop...THAT feeling. It's just not there between the two of us. It's only been there for one other guy before," she finished quietly, examining her cast and the signatures on it. There wasn't room for another one. Fans, friends, and family had all penned their names onto it.
His voice softened when he thought about her words. Only one guy before had caused all those feelings in her. He knew that he had had them, when he was around her, but Brooklyn...Brooklyn was different, and there was only one name that came to mind. "Tim?" he asked quietly.
Her eyes rolled as she raised her head. "Lord no!" she practically shouted. "Some of it was there, but not all of it. I never knew that it could get that...that intense before. Only one guy has made me feel like the stars had exploded and they were raining down on me. Oh, great, now I'm getting all poetic. Damn it, I need to hit my head against the wall or something. This is getting bad, and you don't want to hear this."
JC got up and stopped her before she could go out the door, the way that she was heading. "There wasn't a time, since I've met you, that I haven't wanted to know what you were thinking. It's still there, New York. I'm just trying to understand what the hell is going on between the two of us."
She looked down at the hand around her wrist, gently rubbing the red area. "It was you," she whispered before looking at him. "You were the one that created all those feelings, and it was just too much at once, and I needed to get away. What I'm scared of is the fact that YOU created all of that, and you can take it away so easily, like you already have, and I don't want that. So, yeah, the reason that I pulled away is because I was scared of what this could bring me, and how you make me feel. No other reasons, no hidden agendas, no nothing. How's THAT for honesty?" she asked, looking up at him.
For a moment, he stuttered before taking a deep breath. "Oh," he said, very plainly.
"Yeah, oh. That's what I figured. Thanks for playing, better luck next time, right? Excuse me, but I have to wash my hair again thanks to you, and it's kind of hard with one hand." She started to move away, but then she looked back at him curiously. "And I'd like that one good hand back please, if you wouldn't mind. Thanks," she added when he had let go of her.
The bathroom door closed behind her, and he heard a few clangs before the shower head started up. Rubbing his hand across his eyes, he opened the bedroom door and started down the hallway when he heard the doorbell. "Chris, do you want me to get it?" he called towards his bedroom.
There was a short pause. "I don't think whoever is out there wants to see me naked, so you might as well," he shot back. JC rolled his eyes and headed down the stairs, hitting them harder than normal before he walked to the door and opened it. "Oh, hey. What are you guys doing here?" he asked when it was open. "When did you come into town, anyway? I thought that you were working on the grand opening of the restaurant."
Austin grinned from where he was leaning against the door jamb. "Oh, come on. My baby sister is going to be doing her first televised concert since she made a brief appearance at a Garth Brooks one years ago, and you think that I'm going to be going over financial reports and bills? Get a life, man," he said, as the two of them shook hands. Mia huffed impatiently beside him. "Besides, I need to talk to you about something."
She huffed again. "Great, he's breaking off the engagement. Can we say, NOT ON YOUR LIFE, BUDDY? Great, now where's Brooke, because she and I have to have a long talk before we go shopping."
They both hid their smiles when a strange look entered his eyes before he ran his hand through his hair. "Uh, she's upstairs, trying to wash her hair, I think. Third door on the left." Mia kicked off her shoes and started up the stairs, calling out as she walked towards the room.
"Hey, Chris, as much as I love you, put away Mr. Happy, please! Brooke, I'm here!" The door slammed behind her and JC shook his head with a laugh.
"What the hell are you getting yourself into, man. Come on in, Chris should be down in a second. You want some coffee or something?"
Austin nodded, pushing off his sneakers before following him into the kitchen. "I guess it can't hurt. That airline coffee really sucks, if you ask me." He waited until JC poured two cups and pushed one across the table to him before sitting down with a weary sigh. "So, anyway, like I said, I have something to ask you."
That same strange look entered his eyes. "No, I'm not dating your sister, but thanks for asking anyway," he said sarcastically.
A one shouldered shrug was his only reply. "Great. That's not what I was going to ask. See, since I'm stuck in this...uh...wedding thing, and I very obviously can't get out of it-"
"Drop it, Austin. You know you love the girl, and you're going to get married because you want to. That has to be one of the biggest lines of bull that I've ever heard."
He slowly sipped his coffee. "Whatever. Can I just get to my question, or are you going to keep this up?" JC waved his hand to tell him to go on. "Okay, like I was saying, I'm stuck in this, and there's no way that I'm going in alone. It's sort of like diving into murky water. Normally, I wouldn't, but if I was going to dive, I'd want someone that can jump in after me and save me if I start to drown."
His forehead dropped on the table. "I swear the entire Turner family must have taken lessons on how to confuse someone. My head is already spinning, so you could PLEASE get to the point before I lose what little bit of my sanity I have left?"
"Wow, something's going on, and something tells me that it has to do with the name Brooklyn. What I'm trying to tell you is that, despite the little bit of time that we know each other, I trust you more than I would trust anyone else. You've been great to my sister, you've been great to me. And since I trust you so much, I want you to stop me if I try to run from the ceremony."
"Not getting the point here."
Austin rolled his eyes quickly. "Well, if we took lessons in confusion, you must have taken lessons in stupidity. I want you to stand up for me at the wedding. In other words, I want you to be my best man."
A frown covered his face. "Austin, as much as I appreciate the gesture, don't you think that there's someone else that would be better at the job? Like you said, we haven't known each other that long, and I'm sure that you have a friend or someone that would love to take the position. Why me?"
His head turned to the side a little. "Well...I don't trust anyone else with the ring. Don't let Mia know, but I have it right now, and she would freak if she knew." A smirk covered JC's face. "Come on, man, I trust you. I'm like Brooke, I don't trust people easily, but I trust you and I want you to be the one standing beside me. You know, make sure that I don't make a fool out of myself."
JC tapped his fingers on the table for a minute. "You know...I already have a few days off for the wedding," he said quietly. With a sigh, he looked up. "I guess, but I'm not dancing with Mia. Her hand has a magnetic attraction to my ass."
"Don't worry. I've already cured her of that little problem."
"Oh, you look perfect. That is SO the dress for you," Mia said excitedly, clapping her hands. "You just look so perfect in it."
Brooklyn turned back towards the mirror and sighed, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. "You've said that about the last three dresses. We didn't have a problem picking out yours, why is it taking so long to pick out mine? I'm just the maid of honor." Mia rolled her eyes and came up behind her. "Okay, so explain to me why this is the perfect dress for me."
With a smile, she wrapped her arms around her neck and looked at the two of them in the mirror. "It's just...the color. You never wear dark red, and it looks great on you. Besides that, it matches the flowers that I'm going to carry." Both of them giggled as a saleswoman stood beside them expectantly. "You're going to knock his socks off, honey," she said before stepping down.
Her brow furrowed as she looked at her best friend. "Uh...Mia? You're the one that's getting married. Besides, I don't like the idea of knocking my brother's socks off. It sort of creeps me out."
She sat down in the chair with a groan. "I'm talking about J...Josh." Brooklyn smirked when she heard that and saw the saleswoman's curious look as she listened to their conversation. The moment that the woman had recognized Brooklyn, and found out that Mia worked with her, she had stuck around them as much as possible, and tried to listen to every single word they said. Both of them had to cover their tracks whenever they opened their mouths. "He's going to fall head over heels for you all over again."
The country singer coughed quickly. "Who says that he's already gone head over heels for me?" She stepped off of the small platform and turned around slowly. "So, this is it, huh? No more dress shopping? We can get something to eat now?" she whined, heading towards the changing rooms.
"Well, we still have to go and get a few things, but I guess we can stop to eat. What jewelry are you going to wear with that dress?" she asked, leaning against the door as Brooklyn pulled off the dress and hung it back up before putting on her sweatshirt and jeans.
"Just my necklace, I guess. There's not a lot that I actually can wear with this. Besides, I never take off the necklace," she said over the door, Mia mouthing the words along with her. "I can always toss on that garnet ring of mine, I guess, but wouldn't that be too much red?"
She stepped away from the door when it opened. "Probably. You might want to stick with silver so that it matches the necklace. Oh, yes, I'm a genius." Brooklyn laughed and put the dress down on the counter. "It's a perfect fit for her, and we'll take it," Mia said to the saleswoman, as Brooklyn pulled her wallet out and laid her credit card on the counter beside it.
Something struck her as strange, and she turned to look at her friend. "Wait, only one of these? Aren't the three of us wearing the same thing?" she asked. "That's how my parent's wedding went down." She smiled and pulled out two piece of identification before the woman could ask her, and laid it on the counter as well.
Mia shook her head with a smile. "Of course not. You're my maid of honor, therefore you have to stick out. You're original, sweetheart, deal with it." She thought for a second. "Okay, I'm having flashbacks to watching My Best Friend's Wedding, but we've known each other for years, so that's okay. You're not going to say that you're engaged to some gay guy, are you? Oh, wait, you already did that. My bad."
Her mouth dropped open before she started to laugh. "I hate you, but I love you at the same time. Frightening, isn't it? And to answer your question, Mia, sweetheart, just look at who I hang around with. More specifically, look at who my confidante is."
"Ooh, low blow, and he's not even here to defend himself. You're evil, but I like it." They both laughed as Brooklyn signed the receipt and took her cards back, arranging to have the dress delivered to Mia's hotel room in two days before they walked out of the store. "Did you see how she was hanging on our every word? Dear Lord, NSYNC was a wide fan base."
Brooklyn laughed as they got into Mia's rental car and started down the road. "She couldn't have been more than twenty two. Give her a break, would you?"
"i wasn't talking about her age. I was talking about her profession, and don't give me that look. She walks the streets at night, I know it. You can tell by that makeup job she had going on. Now, where are we eating?" Brooklyn directed her towards a restaurant, since she had been staying in town longer than Mia, and they went in, getting a table instantly.
She looked over the menu and gave her a pathetic look. "Mia, I need some advice, and this is something that Chris can't help me with."
The menu across from her lowered slowly until she saw her sparkling brown eyes. "Honey, just do whatever your heart tells you to. It should be as simple as that. Didn't you give JC the same advice one night, and look what almost happened that night." Her eyebrows bounced a few times before she laughed. "Seriously, Brooke, you're making too big of a deal out of this. You two are going to end up together, even if you both fight it until you're eighty years old and wearing baby powder scented Depends and driving those little motorized scooters down the road to buy some Metamucil. It'll happen sooner or later, but I'm hoping on sooner, because there are only so many months left on that bet that I made."
She frowned for a moment. "I guess, but...never mind. What else did you want to tell me? You've been teasing me with it all day, and you told me that you would tell me once we got into the restaurant, so come on. Lay it on me."
Mia grinned and pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. "Do you think that you can learn this before the reception?" she asked, passing it to her.
She unfolded it and squinted her eyes as she tried to scan the words. "I think I know this song, but why do you...oh, you want me to sing at the reception? Mia, I don't know."
"I'll book you if I have to. You're getting what, a hundred grand for a personal appearance? You're one of the cheapest on the market, so I don't know what that says for you, but I will seriously book you if I have to. I'll be incredibly poor afterwards, but please? Come on, Brooke. It's for our first dance."
"You guys have a song?"
She shook her head. "No, not really, but we decided on this one. I was going for anything but country, but Austin was pretty adamant about this song. I guess it works pretty well. Pretty please? It's a gorgeous song."
Her head nodded slowly. "I've heard it before, and it is beautiful." Sighing, she smiled. "I guess I can. You definitely owe me for this, though."
She sighed and tossed her purse into the corner before sinking down on the couch beside Chris. "I swear, I never want to go shopping ever again in my life," she groaned, stretching out so that she could put her feet in his lap. He looked down at them silently, with an incredulous look before looking back at her. She didn't even notice, since her eyes were closed. "Hey, where's Austin, anyway?" she asked, finally opening her eyes to look around. "What with the look?"
"Never mind. I forget that you get everything that you want. Spoiled rotten little princess," he said as she smirked. "Uh, Austin and JC left some time ago to go shopping, too. Well, for fittings. They knew that Mia was going to beat them up if they didn't have their suits at least four weeks before the wedding, so they're getting it done quick. Why?"
A frown covered her face for a second. "I would understand why Austin needs a suit, since I know that he only owns one, and it went out of style something like five years ago, but why would JC need one? He has a whole freaking closet full, practically."
Chris laughed. "Yeah, he was probably the kid in school that wore a suit on the last day, like all those other pansies that were still dressed by their mothers in grade six." He noticed that she managed a small smile at that, but not a very big one. It was almost like she couldn't bring herself to smile like she normally did. "You mean you didn't know? Jace is going to be Austin's best man at the wedding."
Her head came up from the arm of the couch and she stared at him before grabbing his collar and pulling him in closer. "Please, tell me that you're joking. This is all one big joke, and pretty soon the camera crew is going to jump out, and you're going to sing, 'Smile! You're on Candid Camera!' right? God, Chris, PLEASE tell me that."
His eyebrows pushed together as he looked at her. "Brooke, I'm serious. JC is going to be the best man, why?"
"You don't understand!" she cried once she let go of him. "JC is going to be the best man. I'm going to be the maid of honor." He still had a blank look, and she shook her head impatiently. "We barely talk, and the maid of honor and the best man not only have to give the usual 'we wish you well' speeches, but we have to dance together. As in touching. As in, it doesn't help if we're fighting like cats and dogs."
"So, what, you're going to ruin your best friend and brother's wedding? That's pathetic, Brooklyn."
Her eyes rolled. "Of course, I wouldn't do that. I would never do that to Austin or Mia, but that's not the point. Don't you think it's going to be a little obvious that we're uncomfortable around each other, even though everyone thinks that we're the best of friends, or even soul mates. Come on, Chris, use your head for once. It's connected to your neck for a reason."
There was no way that he could resist laughing when she flopped back down on the couch with a huff. "I can't help it, Brooke. Your brother asked JC, Mia asked you. Neither one of you can back out now that you promised. When is the wedding, anyway?" he asked finally.
"You have an invitation, look at it." When he didn't move or say anything, she sighed. "It's after my tour ends, because then Mia isn't working as much, and Austin is thinking of closing the restaurant for a week if I don't cover for him while they're on their honeymoon. Which, by the way, is in Maui, if you were wondering."
"I wasn't but thanks anyway. So, you and JC still have two and a half months to get along with each other, right? You can't keep this up forever, can you? You looked like you were doing perfectly fine this afternoon, so I don't see where you get the fighting like cats and dogs thing from."
Slowly, her mouth twisted, and one side of it was pushed into her cheek. "Yeah, well, we WERE doing fine until we started to talk, and things just kind of fell apart from there. Well, I walked out on him, and then he walked out on me...it's messy and sounds like a scene in a soap opera between two married people, but hey, what can you do." Her fist slammed down on the cushion beside her. "Damn it, why did this have to happen. After what's been said between the two of us, I don't think that we could ever get back to the level of relationship that we had before, and seriously, I don't know what to do anymore. I'm so drained that I'm thinking of just giving up," she said quietly, staring at the ceiling.
Chris turned towards her a little. "You're not serious, are you? You'd give up on one of the best friendships that you've ever had."
"There isn't much of a friendship to talk of anymore. You know, you've seen us at our worst before."
He was silent for a moment. "And I've seen you at your best, too. Don't forget about that, Brooke. You guys were happy together. You can't just give up on something so easily."
There was a tired tone to her voice when she started to talk again, and it didn't sound anything like her. At least, nothing like the Brooklyn that he had met before. Not the one that had seemed so sure of herself, and so head strong that she would never take no for an answer. "I can, Chris. Very easily. With a snap of my fingers, a flick of the wrist, I could give up on it. I don't know why I've held on this long. It's not worth it. It's not going to work out, and I just have to accept that and move on."
"You wouldn't just be giving up on one friendship, you know that, right?" he asked her. The underlying meanings in his voice made her sit up and look at him. Slowly, without breaking her gaze, he pushed her feet out of his lap so that they landed on the ground. "Because, seriously, if you do something like that, I can't see me staying around you, either. Only because if you and I ever got into a fight, I would think that you would give up that easily on me, too, and I'm not even as close to you as JC was." He stood up and looked away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "You make the choice, Brooke, but if you give up on Jace, I'm giving up on you. It's about time that I told you that, I guess."
When he walked out of the room, she fell back on the couch and closed her eyes, thinking about what he had just said. "You can't guilt me into this, Christopher!" she shouted when she finally figured it out.
"I'm not trying to, Brooklyn. It's the truth," he shouted back before he came around from the kitchen to head upstairs. "Call it unfair, but life isn't very fair. Call it tough love, but no one ever said that I loved you. I don't know how anyone can love someone as infuriating as you."
With a smirk, she fell back on the couch and listened as he went upstairs. Her chest rose and fell softly with her breathing as she tried to muddle through her thoughts, but something made the hair on her arms stand up. She turned towards the window, a slight frown on her face. Her eyes scoured what she could see of the front yard carefully before shaking her head and falling back on the couch. "You're turning into one hell of a nervous person here, Brooklyn," she muttered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "It was probably just a chill...and why the hell am I talking to myself again?"
Brooklyn turned her head to the side ever so slightly and sighed, staring at the blank television. The book that Chris had been reading was left on the arm of the couch and she pulled herself up to pick it up, so that she wouldn't knock it down. She flipped through the previous pages quickly, and saw that he folded in the corners of whatever page he was on. Her fingers pressed down the other corner, not seeing a suitable bookmark, and put it on the table.
Again that strange sensation came, and she frowned a little more deeply. It was almost like she was being watched. She had had that feeling more than enough times in her life to know what it actually was. Her breath was pulled in quickly, and she whirled around again, looking even more intently at the dark yard. She hadn't realized that her and Mia had been gone that long.
This time, however, unlike the first time, the feeling didn't go away and she stood up, walking closer to the couch. She didn't want to admit that she was scared, or that she was feeling something strange. Instead, she told herself that she was just cold, because that was the logical explanation. Idly, she wondered if Chris had a fireplace, since there didn't seem to be one in the living room. If there was one, she would be more than happy to start a fire and warm up a little. After all, she was just wearing a tank top, and it would be easy to be cold in that.
Her arms went around her waist and she pulled off the sweater that she had tied around her waist before, pulling it over her head. Impatiently she pulled her hair out of the collar and leaned closer to the window, looking around. There didn't seem to be anything different or strange, but she wasn't that used to his house yet. She had only stayed here a handful of times. If she had been at JC's apartment, she would have been able to tell if someone was there or not. Then again, he lived higher than the first floor, so it would have been pretty obvious if someone had been watching her from there.
Turning around, she walked to the front door and locked it, before starting up the stairs. Her feet made no noise as she climbed them quickly, walking down the hallway towards his bedroom. She knocked softly on it and sighed. "Hey, Chris?" she asked softly. It was almost like she was hiding or something. She hadn't done this for awhile. It brought her back to her childhood, when her, Austin, and a bunch of friends would play tag.
"What, Brooke? You need advice on how to stop the world from turning? Can't help you there," he called back.
Her foot stomped on the ground, making the floor shake. "I think your foundation sucks, but would you do me a favor? I know that you have a security system downstairs. Do you think you could turn it on, or arm it, or whatever the hell you do with them? I never understood those stupid things."
His impatient sigh could be heard from the other side of the door. "Can we at least wait until I have some clothes on?"
"Really, I could care less if you're naked right now, I'm asking you to go down there and turn it on as soon as possible, please. And I'm not leaving from outside your room until you do." To prove her point, she sat down, and put her back to the door. "Come on, please, Chris. It would make me feel a hell of a lot better."
He opened the door and stopped her before she could fall backwards. "All the time that you've been here, do you know that I've never used the system? I only turn it on when we're on tour, but I really couldn't care if someone came in the house when I was sleeping."
Her eyes widened. "Wow, I feel so safe right now." She paused and stood up, taking his hand to help her. "Then again, we don't have one at our house. Just...go." Her finger pointed down the stairs to the front door, and obligingly, he started down. Brooklyn scrambled up the moment that he started to move and grabbed one of the belt loops on the back of his pants, looping her finger around it.
He stopped on one of the stairs and turned his head to look at her. "Do you have a problem, or do you just have this insane urge to feel me up? You know, not that I really mind, and it can't be that insane, because we both know how great I actually look, but I don't think that I've ever had a woman grab me by the back of the jeans before...unless you count my mom when she used to see if my jeans fit me."
For a moment, they stared at each other. "Uh...sweetie, you're not exactly wearing a shirt here, so it's a little hard to grab you that way. Besides, I'm using you as a personal shield. You're going to protect me, whether you want to or not."
"Just why am I acting as the knight in shining armor tonight, then?"
"Because...I...want the security system on. It would...uh...make me feel more safe...and stuff."
Chris didn't say anything for a moment, but when he did speak, he watched her face carefully to see what she was actually feeling, since she wasn't about to tell him, it seemed. "It would make you feel more safe and stuff. Well, aren't we spreading the lies around today, Brooklyn. Tell me, right this second, why you want me to turn on the system, because you're obviously scared of something."
She sighed again, but almost freaked out when he started to turn towards her. She pushed him back into the position he had been in before, and grabbed his belt loop again. "Well...you know those feelings that you get? Like someone's watching you?" He nodded slowly, putting his head forward again before she could push it back. "I sort of...got one of those, and I...I can't tell, so I'm not absolutely sure, but I THINK that there's someone out there. Watching me. Who knows? It could be an obsessed teenage girl or something, but I very highly doubt it."
"Surprisingly, I very highly doubt it, too." With a groan, he walked down the remainder of the stairs, with Brooklyn clutching onto him, before he made his way to the panel on the side of the wall. She relaxed as soon as she heard the familiar beeping, and leaned against the wall. "So what, you can feel it, but you can't see anything?"
Her head shook, but only for a moment. "I was only looking out one window. The one in the living room, and I know that you can't see the whole front yard from there, so it would be easy for me to not see something, if there even is something out there. It was just that...that feeling."
He opened his mouth to talk, but they both jumped when something rattled outside. "That was..." he said slowly.
"You don't have garbage cans outside, do you?"
"No, the garbage is picked up here on Thursdays, and it's a Tuesday, so of course it wouldn't be out there. I keep them in the garage when I don't use them."
This time, Brooklyn was about to talk when the same sound came into the house. "Then what the hell is that?" she asked in a hushed whisper, starting to go towards the kitchen to look out the other window. Chris grabbed her before she could move any further. "What the hell are you doing?"
He lowered his voice to match hers and let go slowly. "That was the garage door. It made that same sound before when the neighbor's kid hit a baseball against it. Don't ask, but I'll tell you this much: he definitely didn't pay to have the door replaced because of the size of the dent."
"You're rich, anyway," she hissed. "If that's the garage door, what's bumping into it? It's too late for any kids to be outside."
She didn't move forward again, something that he was happy to see. He didn't like how all the lights were on, if there WAS someone out there (which he was almost sure of now, because he trusted Brooklyn and he had heard the noise himself), because it would be easy to tell where the two of them were. "Yeah, that's what it sounds like when there's a baseball hit against it, but I'm betting that's what it sounds like someone is trying to lift the damned door, too. And of course, the garage is connected to the side door in the kitchen."
"Shit."
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."
"Double shit."
"The alarm is on, but it's a silent alarm. It sends a message to the police station. I know, because I forgot to turn it off one day when I came in, and the cops showed up at my door."
She groaned softly. "Triple shit."
"Would you like to go for four?" For a third time, the noise came, and they looked at each other before both of them started to race into the kitchen, not caring if their bare feet were making too much noise or not. It was almost like a race, and Chris slammed into the door before Brooklyn, not being able to stop himself. As he was pressed against it, he turned the lock on the door and looked around. "I think all the other doors are locked."
"You THINK? What about the windows?" she asked quickly.
His head shook. "I keep them locked anyway." He looked towards the door and raised his voice. "Hey, Sarah! I think there's someone out there! Call the cops just to be sure, would you?"
She stared at him like he was crazy. "What, did running into the door screw with your mind or something? What were you smoking up in your room? Why in the world did you call me Sarah. I happen to be proud of my name. It's very original."
Chris rolled his eyes with an incredulous look on his face. "Uh...brainless? I haven't done anything to piss anyone off in the past year or so. You, obviously, have, and I'm not even touching on the Tim thing. Just...call 911 and ask them if they can send someone down here. It's not the first time they've had to chase someone off of my property before, and it won't be the last. Fans find my address all the time."
"Yeah, they probably do a search on Yahoo! People Finder. That's how I was found before," she grumbled. "Sarah my freaking ass," she added as she picked up the phone and dialed the three numbers, leaning against the counter. She talked quickly, but calmly, before hanging up. "There's a car in the area, they'll be here in about ten minutes. That guy isn't banging around anymore out there."
"Could have been a chick that was after me."
"You wish."
They stood there in silence, occasionally looking towards the window to see if anyone was there, before the doorbell rang. Brooklyn jumped quickly. "This reminds me too much of that night," she said with a shudder, remembering how she had jumped in JC's hotel room when Mia had knocked those months ago, but followed Chris closely towards the door.
He looked out to see who it was first, before turning off the alarm and unlocking the door. It swung open, and two officers walked in once they were invited. "What this time, Chris? Another psycho fan that's after your underwear?" one of the officers called, grinning at him.
"Nah, whoever it was is after her this time. Come on in. You're letting the mosquitoes in, anyway," he said, shutting the door behind them before the four of them walked into the living room and sat down, Chris and Brooklyn on the couch. "Guys, this is Brooke Turner. She's staying with me for a few days. Brooke, this is Vic and Rob, two of Orlando's finest."
She shook their hands with a smile. "Hi. Nice to meet you."
They smiled back in response, but they could already read the questions in their eyes. The first one was if she was THE Brooklyn Turner, a look that she had become accustomed to over the years. The second was, why would she be staying a few days at the house. The third was more of an answer to the second question, even though it was a question of its own. Was she going out with Chris. All three were easy to read from their eyes, and she leaned back on the couch, trying not to laugh. It was strange, she realized, how her sense of humor seemed to become more strong when she was scared.
"We already looked around the front of the property, since you would have heard if someone tried to get to the back." They both nodded at that. The sides of the property were closed off by two very squeaky gates, and even if you tried to climb over them, they would have rattled against their deadbolt lock. "There was nothing around there, other than the fact that your garage door has a nice bend and a scrape on it. It almost looks like someone tried to take something sharp and run it across."
Brooklyn shuddered, and wrapped her arms around herself. "Wow. Sort of like someone thought the door was thin enough to cut through?" she asked.
"Usually, those doors are very thin, but Chris was smart enough to get a thicker one." She let out the breath that she was holding. "It's also raised a few inches. Not enough for anyone to slip under, unless they were impossible thin. I don't think that...uh, Brooke would be thin enough to get through."
Surprisingly, a smile covered her face. "Is that an insult or a compliment?"
This time, Chris grinned from the other side of her. "Plead the fifth. She'll have you going for hours if you try to answer that." Her head turned towards him, and she let the arm with the cast on it hit him in the stomach lightly, making him grunt. "That's it, I'm going to get a cast on my arm as a weapon, too."
Both of the police officers looked at each other quickly, before Rob looked at Brooklyn. "How did you break your arm, miss?" he asked politely.
"I was attacked in an underground parking lot a few weeks ago, during my first visit to Orlando. Whoever it was hit me once in the wrist, and ended up fracturing it. The cast comes off in two weeks, though. There...uh...was a police report filed downtown, though," she added when she saw the looks on their faces. "You don't think that it's the same person, do you?"
"We can't be sure. It's unlikely, but I wouldn't say that it's impossible. Did you get a good look at the guy?"
Her head shook and she brushed away her hair when it fell in her face. "No, I didn't. He had a mask on, and long sleeves, so obviously I couldn't see any tattoos or anything helpful. I guess you don't really think about getting a look at the person until after it happens," she said, a small smile on her lips. It was nothing like the one that she had showed them before.
The officers nodded before standing up. "All right. We'll look into it, but there's not a lot that we can do."
"Yeah, that's what they told me last time, too."
Chapter Twenty-Two
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