Blur (Changing Colors Book 2) by N.A. Alcorn Page B

prim-and-proper, too-put-together version of Brooke—isn’t mine. This must be his . And without wanting to come off like an dick, I’d like to make it known that I think this version is complete codswallop. This isn’t my Brooke.
    And God, do I want my Brooke back.
    I want her long, wild curls bouncing around, begging for my fingers to slip inside and turn them into disarray. I want Brooke in her faded band t-shirts and cut-off jean shorts. I want Brooke and her favorite worn-in boots, highlighting her perfect stems. I want Brooke and all of her sass, arguing with me over Jimmy Page being more talented than Hendrix. I want to see those gorgeous honey-brown eyes of hers light up as she excitedly chats with me about music and books and everything in between.
    It’s not lost on me, that despite my disdain for this too conservative, too held back Brooke, I still want every version of her. I’m desperate for her that way, but I want my version most of all.
    “Yeah, he’s here now.” Her voice cuts into my thoughts. I glance up to meet her eyes. “Here, Jamie wants to talk to you,” she says, turning the screen in my direction.
    He grins at me like a man without a care in the world. Fucking twat. “Dylan! How’s it hangin’?”
    I shrug. “Can’t complain, mate.”
    “Listen, I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you before you get bombarded with news. Alistair isn’t always the best in giving a heads up when there’s been a new development…” Jamie continues, but I start to tune him out, eyes moving slightly above the phone that Brooke’s holding in front of me.
    She’s leaning against her desk, her waist at my eye-level. Long legs are crossed at the ankle, and I follow that gorgeous skin, all the way up to the edge of her skirt, where it’s shifted slightly, revealing the hint of silk and lace. Is she wearing a bloody garter belt? My fingers itch to slide up her smooth skin and caress every brilliant inch. The urge is strong, and I have to clench my fists to prevent myself from doing something I’ll probably regret.
    “…I’m not sure what this means for the band, but Alistair is pretty excited about it. He thinks this will help promote Careless Cockups. He’s adamant that it’s not a reality show, but more of a documentary.” Jamie grimaces. “Honestly, I don’t know what to call it, but I’m certain it won’t be a hindrance on your career. I think this might really help promote the album and get sold-out crowds for your pre-release tour.”
    Reality show? WHAT?
    I shake my head, confused. “Wait. What? Run that by me again.”
    Jamie chuckles, nodding his head. “No worries, I can understand the shock. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around what this could mean for you guys. Honestly, this is the first time we’ve ever considered doing something like this.”
    My eyes meet Brooke’s, and I see the uncertainty lying within their depths. “Did you know about this?”
    She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t.”
    “Don’t be mad, baby girl! It all just came out about a week ago, and you’ve been too busy in the studio for an update,” Jamie responds, speaking a little louder so Brooke can hear him.
    I grab the phone from her, standing up and pacing. “All right, explain this to me again.”
    “The cable network C&E has shown interest in doing a short series, between four and seven episodes, focused solely on Careless Cockups and their debut album. They want to film you guys in the studio, at a few of your shows, and slide in occasional clips that showcase your personalities. I’d like to sit down with you guys tomorrow and discuss it further. I’ve already told Alistair that we need to hear you out, understand if this is even a path you want to take, and if it is something you’re interested in, what your limitations are. I know this is a lot to take on, and a lot to process, but I think it’s a positive thing to consider.”
    “Will Alistair be at this meeting?”
    Jamie