We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 28

THE PAD

I stare out of the window for most of the ride, day-dreaming about Brooks's college life and all the post-collegiate years he's spent in this state since. This is where he was during the decade we spent apart.

His fast sports car weaves in and out of traffic as he takes us closer into the city until finally he pulls into his assigned spot in the parking garage beneath his condominium building –a sleek modern high-rise in the heart of down town.

"Ready?" Brooks asks, grinning.

"For the grand tour? Yes." I say, stepping from the car.

"I'll start with the bedroom." He smirks.

"After you, JJ." I gesture him in.

Brooks carries my luggage into the elevator on the ground-floor and I step in after him.

I'm in Brooks's never-before-seen condo in NC. Where he lives lives. Full-time. When he's not gallivanting around Miami or LA or visiting hideaways in the mountains or crashing with me in Seattle.

As I step into his brightly lit marbled foyer I've never been more convinced he's living a double life.

I'm in a massive entryway with a semi-spiral staircase leading up and one directly underneath it leading down. There are ten-foot windows lining the wall across from us, a spacious kitchen to the right and a cozy library nook with a pool table to the left.

I'm in Christian Gray's house. Gimmie the red room.

Maybe it's because this whole year-long whirlwind of a romance was on home turf or at the very least, my apartment, BUT it's hitting me how real this is.

We're not old high school exes running into each other during bonfire reunions; we're not just home for the holidays. We are actively together –actively living a life together –and I don't know Brooks's life.

I can't help but wonder if he is just playing the role of Old Brooks. And maybe it's not even on purpose. He's got me fooled. Maybe he's even got himself fooled.

"What do you think?" Brooks asks, watching me sideways from the door.

"It's insane." I can't help myself. "And a shame."

"Shame?"

"That you live here all alone," I tease.

Brooks crosses the marbled floor to where I'm standing. He loops his fingers through the belt-loops on my jeans. He's my B again. "It's much better now."

Brooks kisses me long and deep and I really want that grand tour to start in the bedroom, but he breaks apart.

"What?" I ask, frowning.

"I am starving for some of you. But I'm also just starving," Brooks says, grimacing. "Haven't eaten today."

"Oh yea!"

I almost forgot he spent the night on a Red-Eye flight –forgot we spent the night apart. Feels like we never left each other.

"It's almost11:00. Early lunch? I should have some things in the fridge." Brooks asks. 

"Lead the way."

Brooks's kitchen is absurd. My entire loft could fit inside his kitchen. No, instead his fridge.

Twenty minutes later the room is filled with the sweet scents of freshly cut fruit and sugared French toast. And bacon for Brooks. Brooks places a plate in front of me and I sit next to him at the breakfast bar.

"So, what do you think?" He asks. "Good huh?"

"Amazing," I say, inhaling confectioner sugar on my first bite.

"I love cooking here, but don't get to a lot. Between all the travel. And my side piece lives like across the country." Brooks shrugs.

"Funny."

There's a short silence and I get the feeling Brooks is itching to get mega-serious again. I am almost ready. Staring at Brooks in his kitchen, in his condo where I'm sure he's had countless women stay over, I'm ready.

I've done extensive soul-searching over the last two weeks so I'd be ready for this exact moment.

Future Talk.

Like rings and babies and white picket fences Future Talk. Like Paris walkabout Future Talk.

"What?" I finally say, breaking the tension-filled silence. Brooks just smirks and shakes his head.

"So Valentine's Day is tomorrow," Brooks says, spearing a piece of French toast.

"It is," I nod. Not what I was expecting, but I'm waiting to see where this goes. "Any food trucks around here?"

"Ha-ha. I was thinking maybe something a touch more romantic this year." Brooks offers.

"Oh?" I think back to our date-of-dates at Corbel Finn –my fancy velvet dress and him in a skinny tie. UGH.

"Nothing too fancy," Brooks says.

"Romantic but not fancy. My favorite." I bite my lip. "Is this a secret?"

"Casual dinner and maybe drinks. Absolutely no flowers," Brooks says matter-of-factly.

"Agreed."

"It's a date." Brooks finishes off his plate.

"Speaking of secrets," I start, eyeing him up. "Are you keeping me in the dark about this joint bachelor-bachelorette extravaganza?"

"Course not," Brooks says.

"So?" I prod. "Spill. What's your grand idea?"

"Scout's honor?" Brooks asks, waiting for me to swear myself to secrecy.

"Let's say yes." I roll my eyes.

"My dad –I know, I know. Him," Brooks says, observing my reaction.

"I didn't say anything!" I defend myself. Gotta keep my face in check. "What about him?"

"He's starting up this yacht charter company. Sort of a spin off of Star Resorts. Mobile hotels or whatever he's calling them. Anyway. It hasn't officially launched but he has the yacht..."

"Yes?" I nod.

"And he needs a good group to test run everything. Work out the logistics. The kinks. I signed us up. Free of charge," Brooks admits. I can tell by his voice he seems guilty, or apprehensive at least, about taking something from his dad.

"Oh my god! No way. A crewed yacht hotel to ourselves? That's fucking sick."

"Think they'll go for it? It's good right?" He asks sounding relieved.

"Of course they'll go for it. Are you crazy? It's not good. It's perfect. Where's it at?" I swing my legs to the side of my barstool, facing him.

"Yacht's in the Caribbean. We fly into Nassau." Brooks

"Bahamas?!" Holy shit. Brooks nods. "This is next level. Like the best Best Man type of shit."

"Glad it's well-received." Brooks laughs.

"It will be. When you tell everyone else! Trix is going to flip. How long is it gonna be? People gotta plan for this," I tell him.

"Maybe 5 days, a week," Brooks says, shrugging. "However long we want I suppose."

"Unlimited cruising around the Caribbean on an all-expenses paid yacht?" I sigh. "You're really showing me up."

"How so?"

"I'm maid of honor, but right now I feel made of nothing." I laugh.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Brooks says, leaning in to kiss me. He whispers against my lips, "We can share the credit."