I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I leaned back once more, dropping my hands into my lap as I sucked in a sharp breath. I felt Brock’s fingers suddenly tangling in the mass of my hair.
What was he doing?
“No, she smiled at me and then gave me this little wave.” Brock slid me a sidelong glance. Our eyes met, and the air around us felt heavy as his fingers sifted through my hair without Grady seeing. “It was . . . adorable.”
Oh my.
“After getting food, he set me up in this guest bedroom and went to bed. Was like the man saw right through me and decided I was trustworthy enough to have in his house like that. I still find it unbelievable.” Brock’s fingers made their way through my hair and now were tracing little circles against the center of my back, obliterating my ability to focus. “Still blows my mind.”
“I can’t believe it,” Grady murmured, and it was then when I really hoped Brock would just stop, that he wouldn’t continue telling this story.
But I wasn’t lucky.
Nope.
God hated me.
“About an hour had gone by, and I couldn’t sleep. My head was all over the place. The house was too damn quiet. I wasn’t used to that. Wasn’t used to people actually sleeping at night, and not yelling or car horns blaring,” he continued, and I started to lean forward once more, to avoid those damn fingers, but he snagged a thick section of my hair, holding me in place. My eyes widened slightly. “I remember sitting in this room, the nicest room I’d ever been in at the time, thinking I needed to leave. You know, that I didn’t belong in this house,” he continued as if he wasn’t using my hair as a damn leash at the moment. “And then there was this quiet little knock on the door. I had no idea who it could be.”
“It was you,” Grady said, brows raised as he glanced over at me.
I closed my eyes as Brock’s finger slipped back through my hair, making patterns against the thin material of the dress. My entire being was focused on the burn of his fingertips.
“She brought me her teddy bear,” Brock announced, and I opened my eyes, letting out a sigh. “What did you say when I opened the door and you shoved the furry old thing in my hands?”
I couldn’t believe he was bringing this up. I also couldn’t believe he actually remembered it. “I said you looked like you needed a friend.”
Brock wasn’t smiling as he met my stare. “She then ran off, going back to bed, I guess.” A faint smile appeared. “I knew Andrew had a daughter. Even seen her a few times from a distance, but . . . never expected she’d give me, a complete stranger, a damn teddy bear.” Dragging his gaze from me, he looked over at Grady. “From that point on, we were close.”
I really, really needed him to stop touching my back.
“I can tell,” Grady commented wryly.
“I’ve been her shadow ever since.”
My gaze swung to his sharply. That was not how people related the story. I was his shadow. Never the other way around.
“Even took her to her senior prom,” he finished, and that was it.
Lowering my hands under the table, I reached over and grabbed his thigh through his jeans, pinching until his arm jerked back.
His mouth twitched as he stared at me.
Satisfied now that his hands were in his own space, I let go. “He took me to prom because the boys who were my age were too scared of my father.”
“Huh.” Grady toyed with the stem of his wine glass. “Should I be afraid of your father?”
“No,” I affirmed.
“Yes,” Brock answered. “Hell, I’m still afraid of him.”
I exhaled heavily, noisily.
Grady nodded like he understood, but it was clear he didn’t, and then a seriously awkward silence stretched out between the three of us. I was seconds away from pitching myself under the table when Grady excused himself to use the restroom.
Part of me feared that as he rose and walked off that he may not come back, and then I felt a measure of relief, because maybe, at this point, that would be better.
But Brock and I were alone, so I whipped toward him. “What are you up to?” I hissed.
He fixed me with an innocent look. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Why are you here?”
“Hmm.” He popped his chin in his fist, and my gaze dropped to the thin silver chain around his neck. “I just happened to be in the mood for a juicy steak and thought I’d pick one up.”
“Yeah. And I just happened to be in the mood for a piping hot crack pipe,” I snapped back. “Why are you doing this?”
Brock arched a brow.
“You’re trying to ruin my date,” I accused.
“I don’t think I have to try,” he drawled, grinning.
I glanced at where Grady had disappeared as anger flushed my skin. “What does that mean?”
He smirked. “You two have as much chemistry as tap water does.”
“That’s not true.” I leaned away from him as my breath caught. My first thought was that he was right. My second thought was he didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Really?”
“Yes!” I nearly shouted and then took a deep breath. “Grady is attractive—”
“So cute.” He waggled his brows.
I seethed. “And he’s funny and smart. And he’s nice.”
“Nice?” Brock laughed. “Exactly. Proves my point.”
“What is your point?” My hands curled into fists. “That nice people are bad people?”