If I Told You (11 page)

“The same.”

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, but I know that’s all he wants, so I plan to drag it out.”

“Good idea. You definitely have the upper hand.”

“Yeah. You should’ve watched if you were so interested in what we were doing.”

“Don’t think the thought didn’t cross my mind.”

She smiles. “Why didn’t you then?”

I reach up and brush her hair behind her ear. “Because then I might’ve joined in. Don’t know what your date would’ve thought about that.”

“He’d have made room for you. He’s open like that.”

“Interesting. What would you have done?”

“I’d make room for you.”

I study her face for a moment. “Yeah? And then what?”

“I don’t know, but what a fucking night it would be.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe you though. I don’t think you’d really watch while Rhys fucked me.”

“You’re right.”

“So why are you joking about joining in?”

“I’m not joking.” I shrug. “I just got caught up. It’d be hot, that’s all.”

“Hot?”

“Yeah, I’ve never had a threesome with another man.”

“Oh, so it’s not about me. It’s about the experience.”

Now’s your chance. Tell her it’s all about her. Every thought is. I brush my fingers over her cheek. “I’m just a man, Brooklyn. Seeing a half naked woman on the couch getting worked over turned me on.”

“I see.” She sits up, and climbs out of my bed, and I realize how I just fucked up my chance to tell her the truth. “Night, Flynn.”

She walks out of my bedroom before I can say another word. Dammit.

In the morning, I’m in the kitchen making coffee when Brooklyn comes out wearing the same pajama set that pushed me over the edge before. She averts her eyes when she sees me.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hi.”

“You mad at me?”

“Why would I be?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. You seem a little cold.”

“Cold?” She nods. “I’m just tired.”

“Okay. What do you have planned today?”

“I don’t know.”

I step back from the coffee maker as she pours herself a mug. Without speaking, she starts to walk back to her bedroom.

“Talk to me, Brooks.”

When she swings around, I regret pushing her. Fire seems to shoot from her eyes. “About what, Flynn? About how you’d like to fuck me, but won’t? Or maybe you want to talk about how hot it would be to have a threesome on the couch. Is that what you want discuss? Because frankly, I’m tired of all the talk. You know me better than that. Put up, or shut the fuck up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means. We’re either gonna fuck and get it over with or we’re gonna be friends and not talk about it.”

“I don’t get what changed. Three days ago everything was fine.”

She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “Here’s what’s changed. I’m used to being treated like nothing more than a piece of ass. In fact, it works for me. No attachments, in and out, my only goal is pleasure.” She looks down at her coffee cup then back at me. “You know everything about me. You know how I treat men and how I think about things.”

I nod. “I do.”

“I know the same about you. I just never thought…” She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“You can say anything to me.”

“No.”

“Come on, Brooks. It’s me.”

“I never thought you’d treat me like that. I always believed you saw me as more than a piece of ass. I thought you saw me as a person.”

“I do. Why are you saying this?”

“You only want me because you need someone. Because someone else wants me. I just never thought it would be like that between us.”

“You’re wrong, Brooklyn. So wrong. That’s not it at all.”

“Then what is it? Last night you wanted to…” her voice cracks with rare emotion. She clears her throat before she continues. “You wanted to share me with another man just so you could say you did it. I would be nothing but a conquest to you. Just like all your other women.”

She starts to walk away as her words leave me shocked. No. That’s not it. I chase after her, pulling her into my arms and spilling her coffee. She struggles against me, but I hold her close until she relaxes against me. Stroking her hair, I kiss the top of her head until she returns my embrace.

“Brooklyn,” I say, stepping back enough to look at her. “Come on, baby, it’s me. You know you mean everything to me. Everything.”

She shakes her head trying to look away, but I force her to look back at me.

“If you were just another conquest to me, you know it would’ve happened by now. We would’ve fucked ages ago, and we wouldn’t be friends now. You know this.”

She nods.

“I’m sorry for what I said last night. It came out all wrong.”

“What did you mean then?”

“I was turned on seeing you like that and it clouded my judgment. For a few minutes, yeah I did want you enough to think those things.” I grip her chin. “But I can’t treat you like that. I can’t use you for sex. I can’t give in to a moment of pleasure and give up everything else we have. I respect you too much to treat you the way I treat other women. I love you. You, Brooklyn. Your heart, your mind, your sense of humor. And yeah, you’re fucking sexy and you know I think that, but you know I care about you so much I would sacrifice myself for you. You know that, Brooklyn.”

She nods. “I’m sorry. You’re the only man I trust, and for a minute I questioned if I could.”

“That’s my fault. I’m used to being honest with you, and I went too far.”

“It’s my fault, too. I admit I’ve flirted with you a little lately.”

“I’ve noticed.” I chuckle and kiss her forehead. “What’s up with that? You can’t blame it on being horny after what I saw last night.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Just some kind of mood I’m in I guess. I’ll knock it off.”

Pulling her close again, I remind myself that’s what I want. No more crossing the line. “You’re my best friend, and that matters more to me than anything. Even the restaurant. I’m sorry for what I said.”

She hugs me close. “I’m sorry, too.” Looking up, she smiles. “I want us to be normal again. Can we just go back to how we were?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” As she leans into me, I rub her back, and wonder just how the fuck I’m going to accomplish that.

A few hours later, I go online to look up Rhys’s review of Flynn’s. After finding it, my eyes peruse it, then I call for Flynn.

“Flynn!”

“Yeah,” he says, coming out of the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“I found the review.”

“Oh.” He dries his hands on a dish towel. “And?”

“You ready?”

“I am.” He sits across from me in the armchair. “Let’s hear it.”

“A review of Flynn’s in Manhattan,” I begin. “After receiving numerous suggestions from my faithful readers, I decided it was time to try this newish establishment, specializing in a contemporary twist on Italian classics.” I glance up at a nervous Flynn. “I’m glad I did. The restaurant’s ambience is worthy of a stop for that alone. Dim lighting, comfortable chairs, and a view of the kitchen make you feel like you’re sitting in your best friend’s house, that is, until the impressive wait staff reminds you’re actually in an upscale Manhattan eatery. I had the pleasure of sitting at the chef’s table and indulging in his best dishes. Each bite was more impressive than the last, and I found myself looking forward to each new dish that made its way to my table.”

“Awesome,” Flynn murmurs, as he starts to relax. “He liked it.”

“There’s more.” I scroll down to see the rest of the write up. “You must make yourself a reservation and try the absolutely sumptuous truffle lobster ravioli, the undeniable lemon braised trout, and for dessert, the decadent panna cotta with sea salt caramel. You won’t be disappointed.”

“I did it, Brooks. I made it.”

“I know. Wait, there’s more.” I continue to read. “Fellows, Flynn’s also attracts some of Manhattan’s most beautiful women, from the hostess to the clientele. I wouldn’t be surprised if Flynn’s becomes a hot spot to meet that special someone.” I look up, smiling. “Personally, I can’t wait for my next opportunity to dine at Flynn’s. Chef Flynn made an impression on me I won’t soon forget. My rating? Flynn’s gets five delicious stars. Look for the full write up with photos in next month’s issue of
Foodie
magazine.”

“Unbelievable,” Flynn mutters.

“What a fantastic review. The best you’ve had so far.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“We should celebrate.”

Flynn grins. “How?”

“I’ll make the drinks.”

“Sounds good.”

I stand up and walk over to our little makeshift bar to begin making cocktails. I’m over the moon excited for Flynn. This was exactly the break he needed.

After drinks are finished, I carry them into the living room where Flynn is setting up our dinner he prepared.

“Braised beef in a mushroom sherry sauce,” he announces.

“Yum. Two dirty martinis.”

“Nice.” We clink glasses. “To best friends.”

“And to the success you deserve.”

Flynn leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone but you.”

“Same here, Flynn.” After taking a sip of my drink, I dig into my food, happy that the tension we’ve had the past few days is over now, and we can get back to normal. As I chew my meal, I realize I’m the cause of all that tension, and I really don’t know why I’ve been acting so out of character lately. I do know that I need to knock it off before we both make a decision we can’t come back from.

“Well?” Flynn asks, cutting into my thoughts. “How many stars do I get?”

I smile at the handsome man beside me, thankful I can call him my friend. “Five delicious stars, Chef.”