Read Online Matt & Brooklyn: A Standalone in the "Again for the First Time" Family Saga (AFTFT Book 2) by Raven St. Pierre - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Raven St. Pierre
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found Brook. She was outside soaking up this California sun just like she said she would.
I made my way to the living room, headed for the loungers just beyond the French doors. But first, I doubled back to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge for Brook and I, thinking I’d join her and catch up on how her day had gone. I did that, grabbed the bottles and then continued on to the doors, but then, when I got there, the vision before me stalled my feet and I nearly dropped what was in my hands onto the tiled floor.
Look away, dude. Not cool. Look away.
But of course I didn’t; I couldn’t. Right there in front of me, resting on a lounger only six feet away, was a living, breathing wet dream if I’d ever seen one. That was the only way I could think to describe how good she looked. She lay there wiggling her toes to whatever music filtered into her ears through white earbuds with no clue she was being watched, no clue I’d even made it home, which was all the more reason I should’ve looked away, but… wow.
A thin sheen of sweat coated her smooth skin, giving it a glow. Not one that had been manufactured; this was natural. All her. My eyes traveled from the high ponytail on top of her head, down to the oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, and then her full, glossed lips. The sight of them had me wetting my own. I let my gaze slip lower, lower to her chest barely covered by the royal-blue bikini top. A flat stomach melted into the swell of a set of round hips that flared just below the string of her bottoms. Her thighs were full and shapely, having the appearance of being pillow soft.
I had to remind myself to breathe.
Clearing my throat, I suddenly remembered how to walk, taking the last few steps to the glass door. The second I stepped out onto the porch, Brook caught sight of me through her blacked-out sunglasses, snatching her earbuds from her ears quickly.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, a gentle laugh slipping out as she clutched her chest, covering her cleavage when she did. “I didn’t even realize you were home,” she added, taking the beer I offered her.
I didn’t say a word as I forced thoughts of baseball, work, really anything non-sexual that would help derail my train of thought. When nothing else worked, I went for an image of my mom and that set me straight immediately. For her own reasons, Brook had labeled herself off-limits to me years ago when this friendship started. Because of that, it wouldn’t benefit me to let the fantasies play out in my head.
“Thank you,” she said as she set the bottle down beside her chair, reaching for the thin, black cover-up hanging on the back of it. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tie the belt around her waist in a loose bow.
“You’re welcome,” were the first words I’d spoken to her.
“So… how’d things go? With the interview,” she clarified.
Settling into my seat, I tipped the bottle to my lips before answering. “Fine. Same old, same old. The questions are usually the same: What was it like filming my family? How was the connection made between Granddad and your grandmother? What am I working on next? Stuff like that.”
“You know… that’s a great question,” she cut in. “What are you working on next? I mean, I know you’re already super busy, but I’m talking about personal projects. Matteo Valente originals,” she teased.
I grinned at the words, but stared out at the water while I thought. Glastenburg’s proposal came to mind again. On so many levels I wanted to tell him ‘Yes, I’m in’. It would mean more time spent in Lindmore with family and friends, and Brook, but in order to do that I’d have to find a way to convince him that we didn’t need to include Nick and Mel in the footage for it to capture the audience. I mean, after all, it was Luke and Lissy who really made the film interesting—all they overcame together, the things they learned about themselves and each other,
I made my way to the living room, headed for the loungers just beyond the French doors. But first, I doubled back to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge for Brook and I, thinking I’d join her and catch up on how her day had gone. I did that, grabbed the bottles and then continued on to the doors, but then, when I got there, the vision before me stalled my feet and I nearly dropped what was in my hands onto the tiled floor.
Look away, dude. Not cool. Look away.
But of course I didn’t; I couldn’t. Right there in front of me, resting on a lounger only six feet away, was a living, breathing wet dream if I’d ever seen one. That was the only way I could think to describe how good she looked. She lay there wiggling her toes to whatever music filtered into her ears through white earbuds with no clue she was being watched, no clue I’d even made it home, which was all the more reason I should’ve looked away, but… wow.
A thin sheen of sweat coated her smooth skin, giving it a glow. Not one that had been manufactured; this was natural. All her. My eyes traveled from the high ponytail on top of her head, down to the oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, and then her full, glossed lips. The sight of them had me wetting my own. I let my gaze slip lower, lower to her chest barely covered by the royal-blue bikini top. A flat stomach melted into the swell of a set of round hips that flared just below the string of her bottoms. Her thighs were full and shapely, having the appearance of being pillow soft.
I had to remind myself to breathe.
Clearing my throat, I suddenly remembered how to walk, taking the last few steps to the glass door. The second I stepped out onto the porch, Brook caught sight of me through her blacked-out sunglasses, snatching her earbuds from her ears quickly.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, a gentle laugh slipping out as she clutched her chest, covering her cleavage when she did. “I didn’t even realize you were home,” she added, taking the beer I offered her.
I didn’t say a word as I forced thoughts of baseball, work, really anything non-sexual that would help derail my train of thought. When nothing else worked, I went for an image of my mom and that set me straight immediately. For her own reasons, Brook had labeled herself off-limits to me years ago when this friendship started. Because of that, it wouldn’t benefit me to let the fantasies play out in my head.
“Thank you,” she said as she set the bottle down beside her chair, reaching for the thin, black cover-up hanging on the back of it. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tie the belt around her waist in a loose bow.
“You’re welcome,” were the first words I’d spoken to her.
“So… how’d things go? With the interview,” she clarified.
Settling into my seat, I tipped the bottle to my lips before answering. “Fine. Same old, same old. The questions are usually the same: What was it like filming my family? How was the connection made between Granddad and your grandmother? What am I working on next? Stuff like that.”
“You know… that’s a great question,” she cut in. “What are you working on next? I mean, I know you’re already super busy, but I’m talking about personal projects. Matteo Valente originals,” she teased.
I grinned at the words, but stared out at the water while I thought. Glastenburg’s proposal came to mind again. On so many levels I wanted to tell him ‘Yes, I’m in’. It would mean more time spent in Lindmore with family and friends, and Brook, but in order to do that I’d have to find a way to convince him that we didn’t need to include Nick and Mel in the footage for it to capture the audience. I mean, after all, it was Luke and Lissy who really made the film interesting—all they overcame together, the things they learned about themselves and each other,
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