One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 13

BACK BAY PARTY

It's been one week.

We've had sex at least 20 times. The roof of the hotel, the cabana again, a deck, a boat. The list goes on. What's that about making up for lost time? Go us.

Trix and Meg didn't even berate me for it. Well, that much. The guys were all but expecting it from us. Apparently it was obvious to everyone at the bonfire.

We use code now, of course. One more time has become our little textual motto. OMT in secret spy mode.

It's been... A ride.

"What are you thinking about?" Brooks asks me now, standing next to me on the boardwalk pier.

"Nothing... Just being back here. And with you of all people," I say, almost annoyed with myself.

"I know," he says. "Crazy how some things happen."

"You could say that," I sigh.

"Do you regret it? Any of the last week, I mean." Brooks asks and I can tell he's worried for my answer.

"No." I answer too quickly.

I look at him leaning against the railing. We're both looking into the sea below, careful to avoid each other's gaze. The street lamp above him casts a glow onto his already perfect face. God, the pain. Surface level, bitch. You've got to keep things surface level.

"Do you? That's why you're asking?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Course not. What's to regret?" His eyes twinkle.

"Exactly." I agree.

"We should get going. Travis said it starts at 9." Brooks says checking his phone.

"Right. Let's go."

We walk the stretch of the promenade back to the pier. We snuck up here after visiting the cabana. We shared a funnel cake. It was too fucking sweet. And now we are summoned. It is time for Travis's party.

It's nothing fancy –just a backyard drinking fest.

"You can't drive," Brooks says, watching me pull my keys from my tote.

"I'm fine to drive. It was only a funnel cake." I smirk.

"Ha-ha. It won't only be a funnel cake later." Brooks pulls out his own keys. "Plus you don't have a car."

"I have my mom's car," I remind him. "It works just fine."

"We will drop it at your parents' house and drive to Travis's together. Saving the environment one carpool at a time."

"Ha-ha. I think you just like the idea of taking me home after," I tease. The way he looks at me makes my stomach feel unnaturally tight. Fucking butterflies.

"You see right through me, Emmy Lou," Brooks laughs. "What am I gonna do?"

"Stop being so transparent."

It's already packed when we walk down the block. The crowd is spilling over onto the front lawn, side lawn, all the lawn really. If the music were a person it'd be fist pumping into the sticky night. We find our way through the house and to the back porch.

I haven't been to Travis's house in years, but I remember it well enough. He lives on the bay side and his house backs up to the canal. Everyone calls it Back Bay. There's a pretty sick deck with string lights and a massive fire pit right on the water. Blankets and afghans and coin pillows are sprawled across the grass next to the pit.