Read Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me Book 3) Online
Authors: Brooke St. James
Isaac was right about the DJ at Soar. He played such good beats that it was impossible to stand still. The four of us went onto the dance floor as soon as we got there.
The place was wall to wall with people, dancing to the pulsing rhythm. The music was loud, so none of us bothered with talking to each other besides the occasional times we couldn't resist pointing someone out because of their extreme dancing or choice of wardrobe.
We'd been there for about an hour when Annie pulled me off the dance floor because she wanted me to go with her to get something to drink.
"I think maybe Isaac likes me," she said, yelling in my ear over the music on our way there.
That was an understatement, but it was the first time she had ever mentioned it or even acted like she noticed it.
"You do?" I asked. "What makes you say that?"
"Because it seemed like he got jealous when that guy asked me to dance earlier."
"What do you think about it?" I asked.
"I just saw that guy who was at the concert tonight," she said, ignoring my question. The shift in subject had me confused.
"What?"
"The guy from the concert earlier. He's standing right over there."
I stopped in my tracks and looked into the crowd, trying desperately to see who she was talking about.
"Come on, I'm really thirsty," she said, tugging on my arm.
"Just go. I'll meet you back here when you're done."
She made a disappointed face and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something to protest, but changed her mind as she took in my expression. "That's the one you like, huh?"
I nodded since there was no sense in denying it.
She smiled and reached up to adjust my hair. She took a few seconds to tuck and position various strands that had come loose as I was dancing. "Go get him," she said.
I breathed a long sigh. "You okay to go to the bar by yourself?" I asked.
"Of course, I really just wanted to talk to you about Isaac."
"He does like you," I said. "But don't tell him you heard that from me."
Annie smiled and her eyes widened. "He does?" she asked. It was obvious she was happy about the possibility, which made me sad I hadn't told her sooner.
"Totally," I said.
"You'll have to tell me about it when we get home."
"I will, I promise." I stopped to look into the crowd again. "Where'd you see Brock?"
She pointed and I followed her finger, but couldn't see him. "Just walk that way," she said. "You'll see him."
I did as Annie instructed. I was sweaty from dancing and my nerves were on edge, but I was ecstatic at the thought that he might have actually come.
I was about ten feet from Brock when I first spotted him. He was in his usual stance with his hands in his pockets as he looked out onto the dance floor. I couldn't believe he had actually come. I walked toward him feeling like I was seeing things. The music was loud, and the lights flashed, moved, and pulsed to the rhythm. I stared at him as I approached, watching the different colored lights move over his face, causing all the right sorts of shadows. He stared at the dance floor with an unreadable expression, and I pushed my way through the crowd to get to him.
I was standing right beside him, but he still hadn't noticed me. I tapped him on the shoulder gently and he turned to face me, giving me an easy smile the second he laid eyes on me.
"What are you doing here? I yelled over the music.
"You invited me!" he yelled back.
"I thought I was inviting my friend Rachel," I said.
"No you didn't," he said, smiling.
I narrowed my eyes and punched his shoulder playfully. "Fine, you caught me. But I couldn't really come right out and invite you out since you were on a hot date with another girl."
"I told you I wasn't on a date with that girl. I just sat beside her at the table."
"Yeah, Carly told me you don't really date," I said, still yelling.
"What's Carly know?"
"She knew Chelsea had a crush on you and that you would be there together tonight."
Just as I was finishing my statement, someone in the crowd stumbled and bumped into me, causing me to get off-balance and sending me stumbling forward. Brock caught me and effortlessly helped me regain my balance. I was significantly closer to him after that happened, and I was thankful to whoever had pushed me.
"That's exactly why I hate these places," he said. He looked at me. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I assured him. "Do you want to dance?"
"Not really."
"Why?"
"Because it's too packed out there, and everybody's acting like idiots."
"Why'd you come?"
"To see you."
I could not contain the giant grin that forced its way across my face when he said that. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto the crowded dance floor. I turned to speak to him as we walked. "I'm not going to torture you too much," I said, "but you came all this way, so I'm making you dance with me at least once."
I noticed Ryan on the way out there, but he was off to the side, preoccupied with talking to a group of people he must've recognized. The dance floor was too packed for anyone to care what Brock and I were doing, and I took pleasure in disappearing into the crowd with him. The music was loud, the lights were sporadic, and the people around us pulsed and swayed. I found a tiny little open spot for us, and when I did, I turned to face him with a smile. We were close to a set of speakers, which made it so loud that it was impossible to hear each other. I got really close to him, stood on my tiptoes, and put my mouth right next to his ear, wrapping my hand around the back of his head to hold him close.
"Are you okay?" I asked, hoping the chaos wasn't too much for him.
"I am… with you like this," he said, speaking into my ear.
I smiled at him before taking his hand and placing it on the small of my back. He lifted his eyebrows at me with a smirk.
"One dance," I said.
I couldn't believe it. I thought, based on Brocks reluctance to get on the dance floor, that he would be awkward out there, but I was dead wrong. The guy had moves, and I'm not talking about cheesy stuff like the sprinkler or the running man—I'm talking about real, smooth, hot-guy moves, like he wrote the book on the right way to dance in a club.
My hopeless attraction to him was getting worse by the second. We danced for two songs before I pulled him off of the dance floor. "How do you dance so well?" I said. "I thought you were going to stink it up out there."
He laughed. "Thanks a lot."
"No, I'm just saying. I thought you weren't really the type to go out, and then you go out there and move like a professional or something."
"Just because I don't like to go out doesn't mean I can't dance," he said.
"Obviously!" I said, laughing.
"Trishhh!" I heard from a few feet away as Brock and I walked.
I knew it was Ryan the instant I heard his voice, and I looked back and motioned with a flick of my head for Brock to follow me. Ryan was standing with the same group of people I'd seen him with earlier, and he introduced me to all of them. I, in turn, introduced Brock. We talked for a few minutes before Brock leaned in to speak to me.
"I really should get going," he said.
I gave him a disappointed expression.
"I've got a client coming by the shop to pick up a piece in the morning," he said, "and you have your friends here." He nudged his chin in the general direction of Ryan when he said that and I knew what he was implying.
"Ryan and I are friends," I said.
He smiled. "Why don't you tell him that?"
"He knows," I said. I glanced at Ryan to make sure he wasn't overhearing any of this.
"I'll see you around," Brock said pinching my shoulder playfully like an older brother would. "I'm glad you accidentally invited me, though."
I hated that he was being so aloof. It seemed like he didn't care if or when he ever saw me again. "It wasn't an accident," I said stubbornly. "I already told you I invited you on purpose." I stared at him, desperately wanting him to stay. My eyes roamed over his entire face. He was so rugged and handsome, and the battle wounds made him even more irresistible. I stared at his mouth remembering what it felt like on mine.
"You better stop it," he said.
"Stop what?" I asked innocently, meeting his eyes again.
"You better stop looking at me like that."
"Or what?" I asked.
"Or I'm going to embarrass you in front of all your friends."
"How could you possibly embarrass me?"
"You know how," he said. I thought of the possibility of having him kiss me in front of Ryan. I knew it might make things a little weird between us, but I wanted him to do it so badly that I didn't care.
"I don't get embarrassed," I said.
"Don't tempt me, little girl," he warned.
I crossed my arms. "I have no idea what you mean," I said, staring relentlessly at his mouth. I bit my lower lip for added emphasis.
The corner of it lifted into a sly smile. "Yes you do," he said. We stared at each other for a few long seconds. "I better go," he added, finally.
I narrowed my eyes and scrunched up my face at him. "I can't believe you're gonna leave me hanging like that," I said.
"Like what?" he said, acting like he had no idea what I was talking about.
I shook my finger at him. "You know what you're doing," I said.
"What?" he asked, laughing.
"You're basically making me beg."
Again, he made that face like he had no clue what I was talking about. He was driving me crazy. He smiled and leaned in to speak right next to my ear. "Listen," he said. "If I kiss you right now, it's not going to be a little tiny one like the one at the concert. I'll do it right, which will embarrass you in front of your friends, so why don't you just stop tempting me, and let me be on my way?"
"Are you going to make me come out and say that I want you to do it? Is that what you need from me?"
"Pretty much," he said, smiling and nodding.
"I want you to kiss me, Brock!" I yelled loud enough for most everyone in the vicinity to hear me even over the music. I'm sure they all looked at us, but I didn't care. Apparently, Brock didn't care either because his eyes were locked on mine.
He smiled for a split second before pulling me into his big arms. I went willingly. He held me tightly, as he brought his soft mouth down on mine. A feeling of great relief washed over me the second our lips locked. I closed my eyes and lost myself in the sensation of being connected to him in that way. I was senseless with desire. He pressed his mouth onto mine with far greater intention than he had used at the concert. I tilted my head to the side and open my lips slightly. It was all the invitation he needed. He dipped his tongue into my mouth—the hot, silky feel of it causing me to tingle from head to toe.
Somewhere off in the distance I heard some of the people around us yell and whistle with approval. Brock gently took his lips from mine, burying his face in the crook of my neck near my ear. He squeezed me by the waist. "I'm not sorry for that," he said, where no one else could hear.
"I'm not sorry either," I said, wrapping my hand around the back of his head to speak near his ear. "I'm not sorry even one little bit."
His chest shook with laughter.
"I'm really glad you came here tonight," I said, knowing he had to leave.
"Me too," he said. He gave me one last squeeze before letting me go. I stood beside him as he waved and told everyone in the group it was nice meeting them but that he had to be going. I thought he might say something to me about getting in touch or making plans to see me again, but he didn't. He just reached out and kissed my cheek one last time on his way out.
"Bye Trish," he said, squeezing my hand.
"Bye Brock."
My roommates and I stayed at the club for another hour or so after that. I had mixed emotions about everything that had happened, but mostly I was happy. I knew Brock was attracted to me, which helped me feel a little bit better about the fact that I had no idea when I would see him again.
Ryan didn't say anything about seeing us kiss. I would have thought that would be a good thing, but ignoring it was actually slightly more awkward than if he had brought it up.
It seemed I was destined to be plagued with regrets when it came to Brock. At first, it was the way I accused him of stealing my ring, and now I was faced with a whole new set of regrets.
That night before I went to bed, I worried about the way I acted at the club, and I was still thinking about it when I woke up the next morning. I thought it might help to talk about it, so I called Carly.
"Hey girlie," she said, answering the phone. "What are you up to this morning?"
"I just got up not too long ago," I said.
"Just got up? It's almost lunchtime!"
I laughed. "We went out last night, so I slept in."
"I don't know what that's like," she said. "Roscoe wakes us up by 8 every morning."
"That's exactly why I don't have a dog," I said. "I would've gotten one a long time ago if I didn't love sleep so much."
Carly laughed.
"Hey, what are you up to?" I asked.
"Nothing. Micah had a job to finish this morning, so I'm just hanging out at home. Why, you wanna come over?"
"Either that, or we can meet up at the coffee shop." I said.
"Why don't you just come over here," she said. "I'm still in my sweatpants."
"You can wear sweatpants to Common Grounds," I said.
"They're the ones with hot dogs all over them."
I laughed. "Those are pajama pants."
"Same difference," she said. "Just come over here. I'll make you a cup of coffee. I have that cream you like. Roscoe misses you anyway."
"All right," I said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
I didn't change out of my pajamas before I headed to Carly's, and I was glad I hadn't because we curled up on her super comfy couch with blankets and coffee.
"The show was awesome last night," I said, settling into my spot. "Was Micah happy with the turnout?"
"For sure. We had over four hundred people there. Can you believe that?"
"I thought it might've been more," I said. "It was really packed."
She held her coffee mug in front of her face with both hands and smiled at me from behind it. "Not too packed for you to stare at Brock Rollins like there was no one else in the room."
I let out a sad moan at the sound of his name, and her expression turned curious.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"That's one of the reasons I wanted to come over here—so I could talk to you about that. I keep messing up with him!"
"What makes you say that? You guys barely said two words to each other."
"Yes we did. We walked outside together during the show, and then I invited him to come out with us afterwards."
"You did not!" she said with super wide eyes. "Did he go?"
"Yes I did, and he came. But I totally regret it!"
"Why? Did you argue or something?"
"No, the opposite. He kissed me."
"Trisha Marie Carmichael, you must give me every single detail of this story!"
I laughed. "I don't want to," I said. "I wish it wouldn't have happened."
"How could you say that?"
"Because I was too forward. First off, I invited him to the club when he doesn't even like clubs, then I drug him onto the dance floor, and then I instigated a kiss. I basically made him kiss me." I let my shoulders slumped sadly. "I think all of that was a mistake. I think he might be good man. I should have taken things slow, you know? Like maybe come to church with you and run into him there or something."
"I think you might be overthinking it," she said. "Brock doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do. Did he act like he was freaked out or something?"
"No, but he left without making plans to see me again."
"So that's what this is all about," she said, narrowing her eyes at me. "You don't know when you're going to see him again, and you're scared you made a bad impression."
"That's exactly what this is!" I said. "I keep messing up with him."
"Usually you don't care what guys think," she said. "Why are you so hard on yourself with him?"
"I don't know," I said.
"Maybe because you like him?"
"I definitely like him," I said. "There's no use denying it anymore. I wouldn't be so obsessed with what sort of impression I was making if I didn't."
"I doubt you made a bad impression, Trish. You're probably just being hard on yourself."
"I just keep thinking about everything and wondering if I should've done something different."
"Just be yourself," she said.
"The last thing you want to do is act a certain way just because you think that's what he wants. If he doesn't like you for who you are, it wouldn't work out in the long run anyway."
I sighed. "You're right. See, that's why I come over here. I knew you'd know what to say."
"I can fix the whole dilemma about not knowing when you'll see him again, too."
My head whipped around to look at her when she said that. "How?"
"Because he's playing basketball with Micah this afternoon. They are supposed to meet at the gym at 3 o'clock."
"I can't go watch them play basketball."
"Why not? I'm going. You can just come with us."
"Where are they playing?" I asked.
"At SAAC."
That stood for San Antonio Athletic Club. It was the gym I used, so I knew there was a walking track above the basketball courts. "I'll go, if you come upstairs and walk with me," I said. "I'd love to see him, but I definitely don't want him to know I'm there. It's too much after last night."
"You're overreacting," she said. "He wouldn't have gone to that club if he didn't want to see you. I know Brock. He doesn't do things he doesn't want to do."
"I still feel like I should lay back and let him make the next move, you know?"
"I get that," she said. "And yes, I'll walk with you if you want to get some exercise. He'll never even know you were there."
I hung out with Carly for another hour before heading home to catch up on some laundry and chores. We made plans to meet on the walking track at 3:30 that afternoon, which would give them time to get the game started so I could go unnoticed. The whole scheme made me feel a bit like a stalker, but Carly assured me I was worrying too much because he was the first guy I'd noticed in a long time.
I'd never in my life put so much thought into what I was going to wear to the SAAC. I changed stretchy pants at least three times before settling on a pair. I don't know why I was so concerned since my main goal was to avoid him.
"You look so cute!" Carly said when she first saw me.
"You too," I said.
She smiled at me and raised her eyebrows. "Did you look down there?" she asked.
"I couldn't yet."
She laughed. "Oh my gosh, you really
do
have it bad."
"No, I don't, I was just scared to look down there. I wanted you to find a good spot for me."
She laughed again. "You are hilarious!" she said.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I've never seen you all giddy and nervous like this. Not even with Shane or that guy in college."
"Just tell me where to stand so I can peek at them without being seen."
"Before you look, you should know that Emily and Chelsea are down there," she said.
"Oh my gosh, are you serious?" I said, defeat evident on my face.
"Yeah, but Brock didn't invite them, and Emily has no idea you have feelings for him or she would totally tell Chelsea to back off."
I shook my head. "This is too much. I just need to go."
"Quit being a baby," she said. "You're not going anywhere."
She took me by the arm and drug me to the far side of the walking track. There was a bench near a row of potted plants and she sat on it before peering over the railing.
"I can see good from here, and nobody can see me," she said.
I sat next to her and looked down onto the court. The sounds of shoes screeching made more sense when I saw the teams at work. They were playing full court basketball with teams of 5. Brock's team consisted of Brock, Shane, Micah, and their friends Nick and Jacob who I'd met a time or two. I could easily tell which team was which because Brock's team was playing without shirts.
"You did not tell me he didn't have a shirt on," I said.
She laughed. "I figured I'd surprise you with that," she said. "I thought it might be too much for you to handle if I told you ahead of time. Plus, I never know if they'll be shirts or skins."
I wanted to joke with her about saying it would be too much for me to handle, but I couldn’t concentrate enough to put the words into a sentence. I was utterly mesmerized by the game. They looked like a real basketball team, for crying out loud. I expected them to be standing around under a hoop, just taking turns making shots. I had no idea how competitive and organized they would be, and I had a hard time taking my eyes off the game.
"Do they have a timer and everything?" I asked.
She pointed, and I followed her finger. I found Thomas sitting courtside, staring down at a stopwatch. There was a pile of towels and several water bottles next to him. "He's their manager," Carly said. The only problem with finding Thomas at courtside was that Emily and her sidekick were sitting a couple rows behind him. "She'll back off if you guys start seeing each other," Carly said, reading my mind. "She's just hanging around because she thinks he's single."
"He
is
single," I said.
"Not for long," she said, winking at me. I shook my head, but didn't say anything.
We watched for the next few minutes in silence. I couldn't believe his athleticism. He dribbled and cut through the other team like he really knew what he was doing out there. He and the other guys on the team talked to each other and gestured about plays and formations. I absolutely couldn’t believe how organized and serious they were.
Before I knew it, Thomas stood up and blew a whistle, and the boys walked to the sidelines to towel off and get a drink.
"What are they doing?" I asked.
"They play two halves, and they stop for a few minutes to rest in between."
I watched for a second as they toweled off and began to rehydrate. I could see the scar on Brock's ribs even from way up on the walking track.
What was I thinking sitting there staring at him from a distance?
"We should walk," I said.
Carly agreed, and we started walking on the outside of the track where the people down below couldn't see us. We walked for about twenty minutes before Carly said she should go back down to the courts to meet Micah. She insisted that I go with her and said it wouldn’t be weird at all, but I was just too nervous to do it. I walked downstairs with her but went into the elliptical room when she headed toward the gymnasium, telling her I might as well get in a workout while I was there.
For the next half hour, I went to town on one of the elliptical machines. It made me feel better to break a sweat. I'd been overthinking everything so much, that it was a relief to let my mind rest while I focused on being physical. I set the machine on high, and, for a little while at least, concentrated on nothing but getting a good breath of air into my lungs and how badly my legs were burning.
I had earbuds in, listening to music. I'd been going for a while, and I promised myself that I'd quit after two more songs. I had my eyes closed when I felt an earbud fall out of my ear. I looked down to pick it back up again, but realized it was connected to a hand. I followed the hand to an arm, to a shoulder, and then a face.
It was Brock's face. He stood there smiling at me. "Sorry if I scared you," he said. "I tried saying your name, but you couldn't hear me."
I stopped the machine, and took out the other earbud, feeling a bit stunned and overwhelmed.
"Hey," I said. I was genuinely surprised to see him, so I wasn't just pretending I didn't know he was there.
"Hey yourself," he said. "I didn't know you were such a beast."
"I'm not really," I said, toweling the sweat off of my forehead. "I was just in the zone, I guess. How'd you see me in here?" I asked. I assumed he would just leave after the basketball game, and I wondered if he was planning on doing another workout.
"I was asking Carly about you and she said she thought you might be here working out. We were here playing basketball."
"I know," I said. "I saw you in there. I think you're the one who's a beast."
He laughed. "You saw us? Why didn't you come in?"
I almost mentioned that he already had a cheering section in place when I got there, but I thought that might come across as insecure on my part.
"I watched from the walking track for a minute before I came in here to work out."
"How'd the rest of your evening go at Soar?" he asked.
"I'm sorry about all that, actually," I said.