Falling For Dad's College Rival

It’s what makes it theirs, I guess.

I want to ask Brooke if my place has a smell, but I don’t want her to misread what I’m thinking so I file it away for later.

I wonder if Mike was home, would she have gone along with what I already decided anyway? Guess I’ll never know or it’ll have to wait for a while at least.

She seems a little edgy now that we’re inside though, and not wanting me to sit in the living room, she recommends I go to her bedroom.

But something tells me it’s only so she can properly make sure the house really is empty.

I shrug cheerfully and she points to her room at the end of the hall.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a girl’s room. In fact, I can’t remember when was the last time or maybe even if I ever was.

I play along with Brooke though, and half-close the door, sitting on the edge of her bed as I glance around.

As far as I can tell she likes some popular streamed series, reading romance novels and—

A college yearbook from the year I graduated.

It’s right by her bed and I pick it up, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks but reasoning that it being the week of her dad’s reunion. He might easily have taken it out to show her.

But it’s the pages that are marked that grab my attention.

Each page marked with a slip of paper is the one with photos of me.

I don’t recall ever seeing the yearbook, I was most likely too caught up in football to care about it.

I whistle through my teeth as I glance over the pages, making sure I’m not imagining things.

She really has marked each page. And all before she even met me.

Maybe her dad marked them?

Nah, he’s more likely to have torn them out. No. This has a woman’s touch about it. Neatly folded paper to mark her favorite—

“Oh,” she says, and I look up, noticing her in the doorway, her face reddening as she observes what I’m looking at.

She has something of her own in her hand too.

But I’m more interested to know why she has all these pages marked.

Need to know if she looked at these photos of me before she slept.

And anything else she might have done.

It gives me an instant thrill to see her reaction, and I know at once that it’s true without her having to explain.

She had a crush on me, taking out pictures of a much younger me to look at.

And boy, that younger, me. I almost stand corrected in thinking I haven’t aged much. I look like a boy, and it’s hard for me to even comprehend that Brooke could see the same person when she looks at me today.

“I found this,” she says before I can ask her anything. Showing me the handwritten note she’s found on the kitchen table.

Hi Sweetie,

I must’ve just missed you. Sorry about last night. I got tied up and will be back late Sunday. Don’t worry I’m fine.

Dad XX

I raise my brow as I read it over again.

“Your dad usually take off for the weekend without saying where?” I ask, pleased when she shakes her head.

“Never,” Brooke announces, a shiver in her voice and when I look up again, I can see her nipples stiff with arousal. Her eyes filled with a hungry look.

Here though?

I kinda did want our first time to be special. Really special, like on a yacht in the Caribbean special or something.

But I know that look. It’s the same look I’ve been sporting since I met her. A wanting, needful hungry look.

Not an invitation, a pleading look to help me understand just what she needs and especially what she needs right now.

It’s her time.

It’s our time.

Chapter Fifteen

Brooke

I have to admit, I’m all bluff when it comes to dealing with my dad and Trent.

Way out of my league there, so when I see Dad’s car isn’t home and the note, well.

Something in me just takes over.

I see it as my one chance to really live out my Trent Latham fantasy, having him take me in my own bed.

In my house, while my dad is away.

Might sound silly, but for me, it’s exactly how I imagined it over and over again in my mind. Okay, maybe I’m a few pounds lighter and my room isn’t such a mess in my fantasy, but it’s close enough.

By the time I get back to Trent, he’s found the yearbook I keep by my bedside, thumbing the pages I’ve marked that have his photos.

It’s plain as day that I’ve had a thing for him for some time now, and judging by the look in his eye, the little sound that escapes me, I know this is it.

The moment I give myself to Trent, body, and soul.