Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me Book 3) by Brooke St. James Page B
Authors: Brooke St. James
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he thought I might've been checking Brock's temperature or something. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine," Brock insisted. "Do I look pale to you?"
Shane threw a hand in the air. "I can't really see you from here."
"I'm fine," Brock repeated. "We're fine. I'll be back in a minute."
Shane retreated into the building without another word leaving Brock and I standing there. I smiled at him with wide eyes, and he stared back at me with furrowed eyebrows and an annoyed expression. "Do I look pale to you?"
"No," I said, laughing.
He sighed. "I guess we should get back inside."
"Yep," I said. "I'm freezing."
"You know you're still not off the hook with giving me that thing you bought."
"Yeah, but the thing is, now it's built up too much. You're going to have it in your head that it's something great, and it's just an itty bitty, insignificant thing I picked up."
"I don't have anything built up," he said. "I just want what's rightfully mine."
I laughed, and we started walking toward the entrance.
"Hey Trish," he said from behind me before we reached the door.
I stopped walking and turned to face him with a smile. "Huh?" I could barely even get the noise out of my throat because Brock walked into me. Without hesitation, or even asking permission, he ducked and placed a quick kiss right on my lips. My gut clinched and my knees went instantly weak, but I didn't even have time to appreciate the sensation because it was over as quickly as it happened. As soon as his soft lips touched mine, they were gone again, and just like that, he was ushering me back into the building.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you don't hate me," he said as he reached out for the door.
A blast of music hit us as soon as the door opened. That was not enough time! I needed more time with him! Why did we have to go back inside so quickly? What was I supposed to do now—act like that never happened?
"There you are!" I heard. I turned to find Ryan standing by the front door. "I got worried about you," he said.
"We just stepped outside for a second," I said, motioning to Brock. Ryan and Brock nodded at each other with a lift of the chin the way you guys do before shaking hands.
"It was good seeing you, Trish," Brock said.
"You too," I returned. "I'll text you about dropping off that thing."
He smiled but didn't say anything else.
"What are you dropping off?" Ryan asked on our way back to the table.
Couldn't I get a few seconds privacy with Brock without everyone needing to know what we were doing or what we were talking about?
"I got him a gift for getting my ring back," I said.
He thankfully didn't ask anymore about it. We sat at our table and watched the rest of the concert, which would have been completely amazing had I not been preoccupied with thoughts of Brock the whole time.
I couldn't get him out of my head. His face, his voice, his kiss—everything about him replayed in my head like a song stuck on repeat. I pictured that night at the shop when he answered the door without a shirt, and then I pictured the way we looked into each other's eyes, and the way he kissed me just now and said he was glad I didn't hate him. I was never like this with guys. I hadn't even been this crazy about his brother, and he was my boyfriend for crying out loud.
It was making me antsy wondering what he was doing on the other side of the room with Chelsea. By the time the concert was over, I had myself believing everything that happened outside was a dream, and Brock Rollins was on the other side of the room making out with Chelsea and living happily ever after with her. We saw them at the door on the way out, and it made me extremely happy to find that they weren't making any physical contact whatsoever. I tried my best not to look in their direction, but a few stolen glances were unavoidable.
My roommates and I congratulated Micah and his band on a great job and told them we enjoyed the show. Everyone else was trying to do the same thing, so we made it
"I'm fine," Brock insisted. "Do I look pale to you?"
Shane threw a hand in the air. "I can't really see you from here."
"I'm fine," Brock repeated. "We're fine. I'll be back in a minute."
Shane retreated into the building without another word leaving Brock and I standing there. I smiled at him with wide eyes, and he stared back at me with furrowed eyebrows and an annoyed expression. "Do I look pale to you?"
"No," I said, laughing.
He sighed. "I guess we should get back inside."
"Yep," I said. "I'm freezing."
"You know you're still not off the hook with giving me that thing you bought."
"Yeah, but the thing is, now it's built up too much. You're going to have it in your head that it's something great, and it's just an itty bitty, insignificant thing I picked up."
"I don't have anything built up," he said. "I just want what's rightfully mine."
I laughed, and we started walking toward the entrance.
"Hey Trish," he said from behind me before we reached the door.
I stopped walking and turned to face him with a smile. "Huh?" I could barely even get the noise out of my throat because Brock walked into me. Without hesitation, or even asking permission, he ducked and placed a quick kiss right on my lips. My gut clinched and my knees went instantly weak, but I didn't even have time to appreciate the sensation because it was over as quickly as it happened. As soon as his soft lips touched mine, they were gone again, and just like that, he was ushering me back into the building.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you don't hate me," he said as he reached out for the door.
A blast of music hit us as soon as the door opened. That was not enough time! I needed more time with him! Why did we have to go back inside so quickly? What was I supposed to do now—act like that never happened?
"There you are!" I heard. I turned to find Ryan standing by the front door. "I got worried about you," he said.
"We just stepped outside for a second," I said, motioning to Brock. Ryan and Brock nodded at each other with a lift of the chin the way you guys do before shaking hands.
"It was good seeing you, Trish," Brock said.
"You too," I returned. "I'll text you about dropping off that thing."
He smiled but didn't say anything else.
"What are you dropping off?" Ryan asked on our way back to the table.
Couldn't I get a few seconds privacy with Brock without everyone needing to know what we were doing or what we were talking about?
"I got him a gift for getting my ring back," I said.
He thankfully didn't ask anymore about it. We sat at our table and watched the rest of the concert, which would have been completely amazing had I not been preoccupied with thoughts of Brock the whole time.
I couldn't get him out of my head. His face, his voice, his kiss—everything about him replayed in my head like a song stuck on repeat. I pictured that night at the shop when he answered the door without a shirt, and then I pictured the way we looked into each other's eyes, and the way he kissed me just now and said he was glad I didn't hate him. I was never like this with guys. I hadn't even been this crazy about his brother, and he was my boyfriend for crying out loud.
It was making me antsy wondering what he was doing on the other side of the room with Chelsea. By the time the concert was over, I had myself believing everything that happened outside was a dream, and Brock Rollins was on the other side of the room making out with Chelsea and living happily ever after with her. We saw them at the door on the way out, and it made me extremely happy to find that they weren't making any physical contact whatsoever. I tried my best not to look in their direction, but a few stolen glances were unavoidable.
My roommates and I congratulated Micah and his band on a great job and told them we enjoyed the show. Everyone else was trying to do the same thing, so we made it
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