Brooke and Spencer both looked toward the stage, shifting this way and that to better see the spectacle of Cameron Reed, bartender extraordinaire, standing shirtless on the stage, the words Comic Relief written across his chest in what looked like lipstick, and a big arrow pointing up toward his head.
"Oh my," Brooke said. "At least he didn't really go for self-deprecating and aim that arrow the other direction."
Spencer snorted with laughter, and Brooke stepped into the staging area long enough to press a gentle kiss to his temple. "Knock 'em dead," she whispered, then faded back into the crowd right as his music began.
He made the trek to the stage, then sauntered across, making it a point to smile at all the women who were laughing and shouting for him to take off the shirt. Of course, he complied, then did a Mr. Universe-style pose, showing off front and back, before nodding to the crowd and then stepping to the rear of the stage as the other guys joined him for the line-up.
After that, he and the rest mingled in the crowd, where he and Cam were definitely drawing the most attention. He tried to find Brooke in the crush, but never managed to lay eyes on her.
He didn't see her again, in fact, until the emcee, Beverly, called for attention, and all the men trooped dutifully back onto the stage to get the results.
"A drumroll, please," Beverly said, and synthesized drums poured from the speakers. "And, ladies and gentlemen--but mostly ladies--your vote for Mr. February is Spencer Dean."
The place burst into applause and Spencer went forward to get the Mr. February T-shirt that Beverly was holding out for him as a prize. Molly and Andy were going to love this, that he knew for certain.
He was about to pull on the tee when he finally caught sight of Brooke in the audience. He'd expected her to be watching him, but instead, she was turned sideways, looking at someone in the audience, her eyes wide as if with fear and her skin as pale as death. What the hell?
He shifted, and when he followed her gaze, his entire body turned hot, burning with a heated rage that even brimstone couldn't match.
Brian.
Standing right there, his eyes on Brooke. His feet moving toward her.
No way. No fucking way.
He didn't think. He just acted. And the next thing he knew he'd leaped off the stage, grabbed the bastard's collar, and landed a brutal punch right on Brian's traitorous, fucked up, aristocratic nose.
He felt it crack beneath his hand. Smelled the unmistakable tang of blood. Heard Brian's howl as he went down, clutching his face as blood seeped through his fingers. Saw chairs scrape backwards and customers leap to their feet.
None of it made any sense. The wildness was still alive within him, and he shifted his stance, ready to pounce on Brian and fucking end him.
Brooke's hand on his arm stopped him, and he looked up to see her tear-streaked face.
Immediately, everything drained out of him, and he had to reach out and grab a nearby table to keep his legs from collapsing under him.
"Spenc--"
He didn't let her finish. "I'm sorry," he said, then turned and stumbled toward the door.
The panic that had filled Brooke upon seeing Brian still coursed through her veins, only now it had a different character. Now, she was afraid for Spencer.
"Spencer!" she called as he pushed his way through the crowd. She tried to follow, but a strong hand on her arm stopped her. She tried to jerk free, turned, and saw that it was Easton.
"Let him go," he said gently.
"But--"
Brent had pushed his way through the crowd and joined them. "Mina's called an ambulance. Is that guy okay? And what the hell was that all about?"
It was the voice of a cop, direct and to the point, but not without sympathy.
"I need to go find Spencer," Brooke said, realizing that she was crying. And that Casper and Nick were both hovering nearby. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Right then, being on camera was the least of her problems.
The world around her had fallen into slow motion. Tyree and Jenna and Reece had arrived to help Brian, and Brooke didn't have the energy to tell them he didn't deserve help. Easton and Brent were focused on her.
"Let's go to the back," Easton said. Brent nodded, and they led her to Tyree's office.
"Do you know what happened in there?" Brent asked. "More importantly, why it happened?"