Nate

After being wound up tight enough she was using a hanger as a weapon, she's now completely sacked out. We're only thirty minutes into the movie, and her head was resting on the couch and then on my shoulder and then on my chest, and now in my lap.

I shift, wondering if I can get up and leave her out here alone, or if she'll just end up back in my room shrieking about my mother's sex noises.

Just thinking about it makes me cringe. I don't care how old I am, I shouldn't have to listen to her and Morsten. Ever.

So, shifting worked and she didn't move. I shift again because I'd really rather sleep on my bed than on the couch. Brooke's hand immediately grasps my thigh, pressing her fingertips into my flesh so I stop before she does some serious damage. Her heel nearly put me out of commission the other day. I'd hate to see what she'd accidentally do with fingernails.

Instead of trying to move away, I slide lower in the couch and pull the coffee table closer so my legs don't go to sleep. I'm glad this place is nice enough to have comfortable couches. Brooke snores lightly, and I'm smiling now as I watch her sleep.

She's past the cute sleep, like when you first fall asleep. Her mouth is open a little and she's totally gone. I pull some of her hair off her face, and I start to wonder about her. Really wonder. Why she needs to plan. Why she's so determined to be perfect. Who made her that way? What made her that way? If I had two practically perfect siblings, I'd probably turn into my asshole brother.

Her hand massages the inside of my knee as she shifts in her sleep and falls still again. It being Brooke makes it perfectly okay but also strange. I've never had a girl as a friend like this without it leading to more. I mean, I know I'd never do this with a guy friend, but Brooke and I are friend friends, so it's weird that I'm still sliding my fingertips along her hairline because it feels like not a friend thing to do.

My thoughts are hurting my brain. Brooke is rubbing off on me.

I close my eyes, rest my arm over her shoulder and pull her blanket up higher. Now I just hope I fall asleep before we reach the end of the movie so I don't have to dig out the remote and turn it off.

***

Mom's mixing up whatever protein powder shake thing she thinks will put the least amount of fat on while also keeping her on her feet. Her hair is already pulled up, but she's still in her robe. This is very typical of my mother. She never gets dressed until the last moment because she might wrinkle something.

I'm staring at my nearly empty cup of coffee. My third cup. And wondering why I still feel drugged. Brooke's dead to the world on the couch.

"Nathaniel. I need you fresh-faced." Mom smiles too wide.

"I know, I know." I wave her off. "Most photographers just do the photography, you know that, right?"

"And they don't make nearly as much money as you do, sweetie." Mom reaches over and pinches a cheek.

She's right. Fine. "I think we should never, ever, ever agree to plan the whole three-day event again."

Mom shakes her head. "That's because you don't realize how much money we get for doing these three-day events."

"I know how much money we make."

"And another thing I've been meaning to talk to you about." The serious tone of her voice says I won't like anything that's about to come out of her mouth. "Please say you sent Viv's jewelry back to her."

I wave her off and fill up my mug again. "Of course I did."

Only, there's no 'of course' about it. I changed my mind about fifty times before I decided I was tired of feeling pathetic and dropped the package off.

"Good. Sometimes, Nathaniel, you just need to let things go."

"Yeah. Thanks." I know she catches my sarcasm because she frowns.

"I just know there's a girl out there for my beautiful boy." Mom slides her hand through my hair, and that action paired with her words makes me feel thirteen, pimply and overweight.

"Mom. Seriously."

"And your brother... The other night... I just..." Mom sighs.

"He's being ridiculous. You have to see that, right?"

"I think you're jealous."

I spit my coffee over the counter. "Of what?"

"That he's getting everything he wanted, and most of what you wanted was taken from you. Or... You left it behind."

I flex my jaw because I didn't leave anything behind. Someone else had taken over my life so I came somewhere to re-group. I'm about to say something when Morsten comes into the kitchen without his shirt and puts his arms around Mom from behind. Why do they think I want to see this? It's all the time at home. Because of Brooke I was forced to listen to them last night. They really are like horny teenagers.

"I need to chat with Brooke in a few," Mom murmurs in his ear.

Morsten gives her a wink and a smack on her butt. "I'll see you when you're done."

The moment he steps out I roll my eyes. "Come on, Mom. Really?"

"You're just jealous." Mom teases as she turns to the fridge, even though I know she won't have more than her drink this morning.

"You can't keep using that word." Only I might be teasing a little too, even though the fact that she thought to say it sort of sucks.

"Jealous..." she sings. "And I really want you to make an effort to get along with your brother."

Yeah. That's likely.

Brooke stumbles in looking even worse than I do, and I'm happy to say that she feels like normal crazy friend Brooke in this moment and not the girl who I had an almost-date with last night or the girl who falls asleep on my lap.

She freezes when she sees Mom. "Ms. Marks. I'm so sorry. Should I have been up earlier? I was trying to maximize sleep hours so that I-"

"You're fine." Mom waves her off. "I know it's awkward all sharing a suite, but it's so much easier when we have things to discuss before or after the day. Grab a coffee and we can talk about what I need from you this afternoon. I'll wait in the living room. I have a quickie appointment before our first wedding event."

I swear Mom looks directly at me, which is just weird on too many levels for me to even try and figure out what her purpose is. Also, her hair is done. I can't imagine her letting anyone touch her after that process.

Brooke does a swipe of her hair, like it might calm down any part of the rat's nest on her head and gives Mom her professional smile. "Just give me a second."

Mom gives me this knowing look like we both know Brooke's trying way too hard, but I know Mom likes the devotion.

"How'd you sleep?" I ask, wondering if she has any idea of how we slept last night.

I'm noticing things about Brooke today that I shouldn't be noticing. Her lack of bra and small tank for one. The strip of skin above her pajama shorts for two. The way her hair is sort of sticking out on the side that rested on me all night. She's moving like a tornado through the kitchen, and I know it's because Mom's waiting.

"Once I got that horrible movie out of head, I slept fine." She drops her spoon twice before stirring her coffee. I really need to not over-think watching Brooke or watching a movie with Brooke, or noticing Brooke. It's no big deal. We work together. She's cool. End.

"Glad my torture didn't ruin the whole night for you."

"Just part of it." She licks her coffee spoon before making a face. "Ugh. Not enough sugar."

"Next time you should start with the sugar and then add coffee to taste. Might be easier." I laugh and it feels like we're all normal and good again instead of me being in a place where I'm touching her hairline and happy she fell asleep in my lap.

Brooke makes a face and yeah. We're back to normal. Friends. Co-workers. Good.

But she pauses at the edge of the kitchen. "It was really sweet of you to be my pillow last night."

Because I don't know what else to do, including how to react to what she said, I tell her, "Better go listen to what Ms. Marks has to say before the day turns crazy."

She sucks in her bottom lip before saying, "Yep."

Now I need to double-check my equipment before the insanity starts. And to keep my mind off Brooke.