Nate

Mom's still primping for dinner, but it takes me like ten minutes to get ready so I'm sitting in front of my computer, torturing myself with Facebook. I told myself I was just catching up with friends, but really I'm checking up on Viv. Again.

She's tagged in one of her girlfriend's pictures, dark hair hanging to her waist, mouth open in laughter. I don't even know if it hurts any less now than it did. Thinking about Viv makes me think about Darrian. Did she ever tell her boyfriend? Or am I something she'll keep to herself until...who knows when.

A message from Celeste pops up. I pause and stare at her photo because she is exactly my type. Tall, long dark hair, gorgeous eyes...

Lunch was nice. Thanks again.

Lunch was nice, but that's all it was. I guess that's the purpose of date one.

Yep. Sorry I can't chat. On the run.

I can't be pulled into a Facebook message marathon right now. Viv has added a load of new pictures.

"Oh, honey." Mom kisses her fingers and pats my head. "Stop. Please. Stop."

I slap my laptop closed. "Just checking up on the gang." Only "gang" is a word I'd never use, and I hate that I was just caught.

"Let's go celebrate."

"Yeah. Ready."

I stand up to see Morsten, in his custom tailored suit, smiling widely at Mom. I think this marriage will stick because that man worships her.

The only good thing about the night is Brooke getting some recognition for the kickass job she does, and my classic Impala. Well... Mom's since she bought it from me so I could move to New York, but still. I did the work on the car so she's mine.

It feels like seconds of me being buried in my own thoughts before we're sitting at the restaurant, Brooke looking every bit as smooth and polished as I expected. She probably did some Google research on what to wear on a dinner out with your boss. And she did perfect-simple little black dress that's snug enough to be sexy but covers enough to... Actually, she just looks pretty damn sexy.

"I invited your brother to join us," Mom says as she flicks a page in her leather bound menu.

Big dinners out aren't my thing. I get it, and Brooke's taking in the restaurant with big eyes, so that's good. I want her to enjoy it.

And then Xavier comes around the corner with his dyed black hair spiked around his head and a red tuxedo jacket over a T-shirt and too skinny tux pants. He's such a show-off prick. Has to make sure people know who he is, and by the blond on each arm, he's playing it up a little too hard tonight.

He pauses at our table as a waiter scrambles to get another chair (seriously, he said he was bringing a date, not dates) and looks down on us.

I give him a thin smile but I'm sort of pissed. Tonight was supposed to be about Brooke, not about him. The only reason Mom invited him is because he's enough of an ass to never drop in to see her. Morsten shifts in his seat and smoothes a hand over his bald head.

"You brought your assistants," I say.

"We're not his assistants, silly." A blond waves me off, her boobs half falling out of the top of her dress.

"Oh, sorry. My mistake." I manage to hold in my eye roll.

Brooke looks both slightly star struck and disgusted at the same time so I pull out my phone to snap a quick picture of her, and because she's still staring I capture her expression perfectly. I'm still watching her raised brow and tiny mouth on my phone when Xavier clears his throat.

"I met them after my show." Xavier sits, letting the girls pull their own chairs. Serious ass.

"Wow." I fold my hands on the table. "Such an unusual way for you to meet girls."

Both Mom and Brooke tap a leg under the table and shoot me a look. Oh. Great. Next time I'll make sure I'm not sitting between these two.

I take a glance at Brooke, who's holding in a laugh or probably a snort, and then at Mom, who's frowning. At least Brooke thinks I'm funny.

Two courses in and Xavier hasn't shut up about how the Discovery Channel is going to do a show on him if TLC can't come up with a good counter-offer.

Mom interrupts a few times to talk about her and Morsten and their upcoming wedding. I don't think she'd have given him a second glance if it weren't for his money, but I also know it turned into more than that fast. He only takes a hand off her to eat. It would be sweet if it weren't so sickening, but I'm happy for her just the same.

Brooke smiles and eats and takes it all in like this dinner turned out the way it was supposed to-as a big thank you to Brooke instead of a Xavier show-off party.

"So." Xavier points to Brooke. "Mom doesn't normally hire girls as hot as you."

"Oh." Brooke flushes bright red.

I scoff and wish he was close enough for me kick him under the table. "Don't be a dick, Xavier."

"It's X, and I was just giving her a compliment. Chill, bro. If you were tapping that, you just had to say so."

Before I think I'm standing. "Seriously, Xavier. This night isn't about you. It's Mom celebrating with Brooke over the massive account Brooke landed today."

Xavier leans back knowing it makes me insane when he doesn't react to me being pissed. "Man. I'm so glad you're finally getting some. I just... I wish it made you less uptight."

Mom grabs one arm and Brooke grabs the other, pulling me back into my seat.

"It's fine," Brooke whispers. "It's fine. I'm sort of...flattered."

"Only because you're nice." I give her thigh a squeeze and man her workout schedule has done some nice things to her legs. It takes me a second before I remember this is Brooke, and I should move my hand already.

Mom pulls my arm next to say something, and Xavier leans back in his chair. "I get it. You're talking about me."

"Stop being a prick for ten seconds, please." He's not like this when he's not with girls, but this side of him comes out in full force when he is. It's like he follows every douche-bag rule there is.

Mom taps my leg. "Morsten and I want to catch up with your brother. Why don't you and Brooke take the car and enjoy yourselves."

It takes me about a half second to take Mom's keys and Brooke's arm.

"Sorry we're leaving before dessert," I say as she stands.

"Great to meet you, Xavier." She nods at him and gives Mom a smile. "And thank you."

"Thank you, Brooke," Mom says with the sincerity that comes so naturally to her. "What you did today was big. You two celebrate, and come in to work tomorrow whenever."

Brooke beams and I resist the urge to tug one of X's spikes on our way out.

***

The second we're in the old Impala, I pull the top down. "Anywhere you want. Anywhere we can drive. Anything for dessert." Anything to get away from my brother.

She laughs as she stretches her arms up and tugs on her dress. "I want a Piña Colada Icee from Taco Bell and maybe one of those Caramel Apple Empanadas, and I want you to drive."

"You're a kickass girl, Brooke." I stare at her for a minute longer, her girlish face in a huge smile as she breathes in the night air and jerks the pins out of her hair letting it fall down in a mess around her ears.

"I can be." Her bright eyes meet mine and I hit the gas as we pull out of the parking lot.

"There's a great Taco Bell in Mesquite, if you want to go for a drive."

"You'd go that far?" Her brows rise. "For me?"

"You said you wanted to drive somewhere."

"I did. Thanks, Nate."

"And if you crawl in the back, you can change into your backup outfit."

She freezes. "How did you know I-"

"The size of your bag."

She slides between the seats with a grin of pure satisfaction. "I even wore the right bra, so it wouldn't be weird..."

I don't hear any more because I'm laughing too damn hard. This girl...

"Whew!" She slips back over the seat a few minutes later in shorts and a tank.

"That's..." I wrinkle my brow.

"Every girl needs to be good at the quick change, Nate." She pokes my shoulder. "Otherwise there would be no point in the extra outfit."

"I guess not." We smile at each other before I look back out at the road.

There's an odd relaxation that comes over me as we head out of town. Brooke cranks up the oldies station and sings at the top of her lungs while the wind whips her hair around her face. I'm doing something nice for her, and I get the very distinct feeling that doesn't happen for Brooke very often. It makes me wonder how anyone could be around her and not want to see her smile.

"You know what?" she yells over the sound of the music and the wind and the near constant traffic on I-5.

"What?"

"Tonight is second-date good without the pressure of a second date."

"Good," I say, even though part of me panics at the idea of being on a date with a friend. She's not going to think this is a date, is she? This is a work celebration. We're friends, so it's a friend/work celebration. That's not a date.

"Don't worry." She pinches my cheek. "You're so easy to read. We are definitely not on a date."

Now I think I've hurt her feelings, and I definitely didn't want to do that. "But it's still fun, right?"

She grasps my arm with surprising strength. "It's perfect. So, so, perfect."

She lets me go and throws her hands up in the air again singing Sugar Pie, Honey Bun.

I laugh and feel lighter than I have in months-all because of a girl singing at the top of her lungs in the seat next to me.