Unwritten (7 page)

Suddenly, I was facedown on the cold, barroom floor.
Uck, I think I just landed in someone’s spilled beer.
Brooke the Klutz strikes again.
I heard Cassidy run up on my right, as she asked me if I was OK.

“Yes, just help me get up before anyone else notices. Oh god, this is so humiliating. Why did you let me drink so much? You were supposed to cut me off, remember?”

That’s when I heard Rich come up from the other direction and ask me if I was all right.

“Yes, Rich. I’m fine … thanks for asking. I just need to get home. I reek of stale beer now.”

“I’ll walk you,” he offered.

“It’s fine. I saw you were cheat … umm, chatting with Aubrey, anyways. I wouldn’t want you to leave her here alone.”
Like hell, I didn’t. Of course, I wanted him to leave her, to walk ME home.

“Aubrey will wait. I’m not letting you walk home alone like this, Brooke.”

Rich extended his hand to help me up from the floor. The minute I felt his warm flesh against mine, that infamous shiver I’d grown accustomed to ran down my spine. After regaining my balance, Rich took his other hand and tucked the loose hair behind my ear that had fallen in my eyes. As he did this, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to look deeply into his eyes … I could tell there was a story written there, but was unsure of the ending. Rich was still nothing but a mystery to me. There was something that I had wanted to ask Rich for a few weeks, and since I wasn’t really thinking clearly, it was probably now, or never. After all, I had made it my mission before my little slip-and-fall to claim Rich for myself.

“Rich … will you … … never mind.”

“Will I, what, Brooke? Spit it out.”

“Well, my sorority is having a spring formal at the end of April and I was wondering … if you’d be my date.” My nerves had taken up residence in my body again, and the last part of my question to Rich flew out of my mouth.

“Did you just ask me to go to your sorority formal?”

“Um, y--es, but it’s OK. Forget I asked …”

“I’d love to go with you, Brooke. You can fill me in on the details later, but first we need to get you home and tucked into bed.”

Rich grabbed my denim jacket off the bar stool where I’d been sitting. I’d taken it off earlier in the evening when I got too hot, probably from the excessive amount of alcohol now coursing through my veins. Rich stepped behind me and helped me get into my jacket, pulling it up to my shoulders. As he did this, his hand grazed the area between my neck and shoulder, near the strap of my tank top.

I wanted badly to turn my neck in his direction so he could softly plant a kiss in that sensitive area near the crook of my neck. I could almost feel his breath on my skin when he pulled away and propped me up against the bar for a minute, while he walked back to where he had been sitting with Aubrey, just minutes before.

I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but was hoping it was just a simple goodbye. … And, then he kissed her. He fuckin’ kissed her … kissed Aubrey fuckin’ Sullivan. Why had he just agreed to go to the sorority formal with me if he was going to go over there and kiss her?

I felt tears welling in my eyes and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let Rich see me upset. I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my jacket before Rich made his way back to me. I then let him grab my hand and walk me out of the bar and back to campus. He saw me back to my dorm like a true gentleman and stood behind me as I unlocked the door.

After opening the door and turning to Rich, he pulled me into his hard chest. I felt his hands rubbing circles on my back and I wanted to remain locked in his warm embrace forever. Rich finally pulled away and leaned over to give me a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, Brooke. Get back with me about the dance. Oh, and happy birthday, sweetheart,” Rich whispered in my ear, before hopping off my porch and into the moonlight.

It was the second time in just a matter of months that Rich had left me at my doorstep, yearning for his lips to assault my own in a heated kiss.

I
woke up the next morning, or maybe afternoon, with a severe hangover. I wasn’t sure what hurt the most: my pounding headache from all the booze I had poured down my throat the night before, or the sting in my chest every time I envisioned Rich’s lush lips smacking down on Aubrey’s lips and not on my own. I swear my lips ached for his touch.
Oh, that definitely hurt worse.
I could take an aspirin to lessen the pain in my head, but there wouldn’t be any relief for the ache in my chest until Rich was mine.

I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen myself up as best I could. Luckily, it was a Friday and my academic schedule didn’t include any Friday classes this semester – the perks of being an upperclassman, I suppose.

All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep for two days, but I knew that wasn’t possible. There were some articles I had to write for the
Eagle
and the deadline was quickly approaching. I brushed my teeth, spritzed on some perfume in hopes of masking the stale bar odor in my hair, and lathered on my go-to, mango, lip balm. I also threw on a pair of stretchy yoga pants and hooded sweatshirt. The gym would have to wait today as I was just not up to exercise at that moment. Since the snow was fast disappearing, I figured it was safe to throw on my flip-flops, my footwear of choice, if weather permitted, and go about my business.

Since most students had class on Friday afternoon, I was hoping I would have the
Eagle
office to myself, at least until evening. Still not feeling well, I wasn’t in the mood to fraternize with anyone. Grabbing the key to the office from the front desk, I made my way to the elevator. Before the doors closed, I heard Rich’s sexy baritone calling out for me.

“Brooke, hold the door, please?”

Ugh, not the person I wanted to deal with at the moment … ah, fuck … to make matters worse … as Rich rounded the corner and into the elevator, who should appear from behind him, clutching his hand, but none other than Aubrey Sullivan.
Gag me with a spoon.

“Hey Brooke, I hope you had a happy birthday. How are you feeling this morning?” Aubrey asked, in the most sickeningly cheerful voice imaginable.

“Thanks, I did.”
Until you stole Rich out from under me anyways, you bitch.
“And, I’m doing all right, I suppose. Thank you for your concern.”

The three of us walked into the dark office. I watched as Rich and Aubrey cuddled up together on the same couch that we had shared on the night that Jay broke my heart. The sight of them together hurt worse than the memory of the breakup. He told me that night on that same couch that he would wait for me.

I remember his exact words
, “Take some time for yourself and then decide if it’s me that you want. … I’ll wait.”

I’m ready, Rich. It’s you that I want. You! But, evidently, you don’t know the meaning of wait because you are getting awfully cozy over on our couch with Aubrey effin’ Sullivan.

“Hey Brooke, are you feeling OK? You’re looking a bit green,” Rich said, with his brows furrowed and upper lip raised. He was obviously terrified that I was going to lose it on the carpet.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to keep myself busy,” I answered, as I walked to a chair on the opposite side of the room. “You two just pretend I’m not even here.” Unfortunately, they took my statement a little too literally as I could hear them making out and giggling right behind me.
Really, where is that spoon?

Rich told me the following week that he and Aubrey were officially a couple.
Well, no shit, Sherlock.
He wanted to reassure me that he still planned to escort me to my sorority formal, though. He talked it over with Aubrey and she completely agreed that he needed to take his friend. I mean, after all, they both assumed that I had only asked him as a friend.

I was somewhat relieved that I could still spend the evening with Rich, but also disappointed because I knew there wasn’t a chance for us to be together – really together. I caught myself, on more than one occasion, thinking about the way Rich’s lips would taste and feel against my own; I knew they would taste of cinnamon. He was always popping cinnamon gum into his mouth during class. I wasn’t really a fan of the flavor, but was convinced Rich would soon change my mind. I could easily learn to love the cinnamon flavor of Rich Davis’s lips and tongue entwined with my own. Suddenly, I was in the mood for a Red Hot candy.

Cassidy and I spent the Saturday before our formal, searching for the perfect dresses. We took the two-hour drive into Chicago to shop at some of the boutiques on Michigan Avenue and tried on what seemed like dozens of dresses in all colors, fabrics and styles, but neither of us seemed to have any luck. Everything seemed too frilly or ruffly and in the wrong colors for my skin tone.

“I found it!” I heard Cassidy finally exclaim from the dressing room next to mine.

Pulling on my T-shirt and khaki shorts that I’d worn on this unseasonably warm, April afternoon, I ran out to the sitting area to watch as Cassidy appeared from her closed-curtain dressing room. I gasped, as she floated out wearing the most beautiful, turquoise-lace chiffon gown. The cap sleeves fit perfectly over her toned arms.

“That’s the one, Cass. You look absolutely stunning. … Is Prince William available because you look like a princess.”

“I know. I think I’m in love! Now, let’s go find one for you,” she squealed.

I was starting to give up hope when we stumbled into what appeared to be a bridal salon. I saw it hanging on the display rack and knew instantly it was what I’d been dreaming of since the moment Rich agreed to escort me to the formal. After trying on the most perfect dress, I made my purchase and we headed back to campus. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Rich’s face when he would see me next weekend.

After what seemed like a never-ending week, Friday finally arrived. Cassidy and I had made appointments to get our nails done before the big event the next day. We spent the evening sipping on wine and enjoying some girl-time in the local salon.

I had talked to Rich earlier in the week just to give him some simple details about my dress. I wanted his tie and tuxedo vest to match its deep purple hues. After all, it would have clashed something horrible, if he’d shown up in a chartreuse vest.

He also discussed our dinner plans, saying he would pick up Cassidy and me early and take care of the arrangements. He wanted to surprise the two of us.

Other than that brief chat about our wardrobe and meal, I hadn’t really seen or spoken with Rich in weeks. I guess he was too busy with his new girlfriend to pay much attention to his old friends. Oh well, tomorrow I would have him all to myself. Even if nothing would happen between us, I couldn’t wait to feel the same warm embrace that had cuddled me the night Jay broke my heart.

“You’re simply stunning in that dress, Brooke. But, I would do anything to see how stunning you look out of it, sweetheart.” Rich said, as he was grinding up to my midsection while we danced to R. Kelly’s “Bump N’ Grind.”
Convenient, isn’t it.

I felt his lips nuzzle into my neck near the faux diamond and amethyst choker I was wearing and move up toward my ear. He nipped on my earlobe while moving his hands down from my waist, to grip my ass through the thick fabric of my dress.

“There’s too much between us. I need you now, Brooke. I have waited far too long for this … for us.”

“But, what about Aubrey?”

“I never wanted Aubrey, Brooke,” he assured me, as he moved from my ear to nip on my lower lip. “It’s always been you. Only you …”

Before I could react, he slowly began parting my lips with his tongue, as if he were asking for permission to enter.

His confession and assault on my lips made my insides quiver in anticipation. I opened my mouth wider, telling him without words that he was what I wanted, too. I immediately tasted the cinnamon on my lips that I had always imagined. It was pure perfection. Rich pulled away from me and looked me straight in the eyes.

“I can tell that you want me as badly as I want you, sweetheart. Your eyes turn that magnificent shade of deep green when they’re filled with heated desire, as they turned the same shade on your birthday. I just didn’t want to take you after you’d had so much to drink. I wanted you to remember this … to remember us, together.”