Trouble with the Fake Boyfriend (Rock Bottom #3) - Holly Renee Page 0,36

it fucked me up.

“I really don’t like that girl.” The way she scrunched up her nose in disgust was absolutely adorable, and I wanted to lean forward and press a small kiss there.

But I didn’t.

“Me either. Not anymore.”

“Is she the reason you don’t date anymore?” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and I knew that asking that question made her nervous.

I looked at the sky for a second, debating how to answer her. “Yeah.” I decided on honesty. “She kind of fucked me up for a while. What about you?”

“What about me?” She looked down at me with hesitation, and I knew she didn’t want to talk about her. It was too bad. I gave and now it was her turn.

“Why don’t you date? Why did you leave home?”

“I honestly don’t know.” She shrugged but that was a lie. I knew it from the moment she opened her mouth. “My family isn’t like yours. I haven’t been back home in a really long time.”

She looked like her family was the last thing she wanted to talk about, but I couldn’t get over the urge to know more about her. I wanted to know everything.

“Then what are they like?”

She pulled away from me, turning her back on the outside world and facing me. “My dad left a long time ago,” she hesitated. “My mom was more interested in chasing men with money than taking care of her daughter.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know why, but it was the last thing I expected her to say. Brooke was so strong and independent, and I expected her to say that she came from someone who helped make her that way.

But I guess she did.

“She didn’t believe she was worth a thing without a man, and she pushed those same beliefs on me every day.”

I winced and all I could think about was our current arrangement and how I must have made her feel. “You know that’s not true.”

She shrugged her shoulders and I could practically see her trying to block out my words.

I reached over and gently ran my thumb over her cheek. “You’re nothing like her.”

She stared straight ahead, and I knew nothing I was saying was getting through to her.

“Brooke, look at me.” I moved closer to her and turned her face to look at me. “You are not your mother.”

“I know that.” Her answer was instant, but I didn’t think she believed it.

I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth, and as much as I didn’t want her to think she ever had to rely on me for anything, an overwhelming need for her coursed through my veins.

I wanted to take her worries and destroy them all. I wanted her to need me even if that was the last thing she wanted.

Because I was starting to think I needed her.

I looked up at her, her gaze holding mine. “Tell me something else about you.”

I needed her to keep talking before I did something stupid like breaking all the damn rules and kissing her for nobody else but me.

“What do you want to know?” She worked her lip between her teeth.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m a pretty open book.” She shrugged her shoulders, but it was just another facade she put on.

“That’s a lie.” I leaned back in the chair and pulled her farther into my chest. “I used to think that, but you’re not. You just like people to believe you are.”

“What about you?” she asked defensively, and I knew that I hit a nerve. “I barely know anything about you and I’m supposed to be this smitten girlfriend.”

I grinned. She was so damn cute when she got angry. “You play the smitten girlfriend pretty well.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed.

So I gave her something I never told anyone. “I hated playing football.”

“What?” She turned her head to look at me. She looked genuinely shocked.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I was good at it. Really damn good at it, and I liked that. But the pressure and expectations to be good at something I didn’t love, it was overwhelming.”

“Why didn’t you just quit?”

If only it was that simple.

“Did you see how excited my dad was tonight? Imagine that times a hundred and that’s how excited he was during my high school days.”

“So your parents expected too much out of you and mine expected too little.” She wasn’t comparing. She was just stating our reality.

She laid her head on my shoulder and I could feel her breath go in and out against my neck.