Soul Searching (Sweetwater Peak, #1)

by Lyla Sage

Brady Cooper. That was familiar. Wait…was this the upholsterer? The one Clarke got me a temporary gig with? The one who said I could stay in his extra room? I’d just maced the man that kept me from couch surfing at my sister’s or sleeping in our childhood bedroom at my parents. “Charmed,” I said, and then poured the water into his eyes without warning.

but I was a stranger to feeling bad for a man—men in general, honestly. Especially for something I did to them. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about it.

Brady huffed a laugh. “Well, we can try again. Brady Cooper,” he said with that same tilted smile. “Nice to meet you.” “Collins Cartwright.” I smiled back against my better judgment. “Fuckup extraordinaire,” he responded. His eyes were probably pretty when they weren’t tomato red. “I remember.”

It wasn’t creepy to stare at her if she was lurking outside my shop like a weirdo. I didn’t get a chance to look at her last night, but now I know she probably would’ve blinded me either way. I don’t know which one I would’ve preferred.

I quickly went up a few stairs as she pulled the door open. I didn’t want her to know I was just staring at her through the window.

“YouTube,” I said, and Collins grinned up at me like she was delighted and amused by my answer. “A-and a few local classes,” I stuttered. “And practice.” “An unstoppable trio. You made the right choice, though. Upholstery is way hotter than software engineering,” she said as she looked around the shop. If I’d been drinking water, I would’ve choked on it. I felt the tips of my ears heat. I was grateful for the longer hair, so hopefully Collins couldn’t see.

When he started walking back toward the door, his steps slowed a little. “A-are you…okay?” he asked. I sniffled. “Yeah,” I said without looking his way. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. I could feel him thinking, wondering what to do with me. I almost told him that it was okay—that no one knew what to do with me. “C-can I get you anything?” I shook my head. “Do you want to go inside?” I shook my head again and heard Brady sigh. I finally pulled my eyes off the moon, and more tears fell when I blinked. Brady was right in front of me, wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of dark sweatpants. “You must be cold,” I said, and he shrugged. The concern in his eyes was clear. “Are you okay, Collins?” he asked again softly. I liked the way he said my name—the way it looked when it rolled off his lips.

She opened the passenger door, but I reached over her shoulder and pushed it shut before grabbing the handle myself and pulling the door open.

“I don’t mind listening to my own thoughts,” I said. “Plus, I don’t really notice. I always feel like there’s so much to take in while I’m driving around here.” “I’d rather be alone with an open petri dish full of an airborne flesh-eating virus than listen to my own thoughts.” Collins sighed. “Good for you.” I laughed. “They’re that bad, huh?” She shrugged in my periphery. “I don’t know. There’re just…so many of them all the time.”

“Oh, thanks. It turned out okay.” Brady rubbed at the back of his neck. “D-do you think you could snap a few pictures of it?” My heart dropped. “I want to be better about documenting projects—like a portfolio or whatever.”

“Do you know who did the pictures?” I always told myself I’d remember the photographer because I looked at the photos so many times, but my mind has been in a bit of a blur since I got here. “I always wanted to buy some of them.”

I replayed the past few minutes in my head—trying to remember what she was doing before the floor gave out. “What happened before you fell?” I asked—recalling her anger, her shock, and her determination to get to the back of the church. “I—I heard something,” she said, as she looked up at me, eyes wide. “I heard them.”

Wrapped in hot, strong, upholsterer arms was quite nice, actually. I don’t think he realized how tightly he was holding me or how gently he moved my hair from my face or how he was stroking my back.

Okay, only one of us was doing the avoiding. I don’t think Collins gave me a second thought, but I gave her a lot of thoughts.

“You’ve kind of got a rugged-hero thing going on—in a more contemporary way.” Her eyes tracked down my form and then back up. I hoped she couldn’t see me swallow. Was she flirting or just…talking? I realized that I was too out of practice to even try and flirt back if she was. “Say thank you. Aragorn is hot.” I felt my eyes widen. It’s a damn good thing my hip was leaned against the counter, or I would’ve lost my balance. “So what do you propose?” “I—I think we spend some time getting reacquainted with Sweetwater Peak.” I fumbled my way through the entire sentence—embarrassingly still stuck on the fact that she maybe thought I was good-looking.

“Takes one to know one, Brady.” Collins looked up at me. “But it sounds like we could both use a little soul searching.”

In general, there weren’t really a lot of things that would shock me into stillness. But Brady standing in our kitchen, dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist stopped me dead in my tracks on Sunday morning. “Um” was all I could think to say.

Brady’s eyes shot over to me. “Collins,” he said nervously. “You’re here.” “Am I not supposed to be?” I asked. “Did you put being naked on the nonexistent roommate calendar, and I missed it?” “I’m not naked!” I watched his cheeks flush red. I noticed he was dripping with water and soap. The wet sheen on his skin was distracting. There was a smattering of dark hair on his chest. Looking at him, I finally understood what people meant when they described an abdomen as having panes. “Under that towel you are.” “Yeah…well…you’re naked under your clothes!” Now my cheeks were red. “But I’m not saying you’re naked.”

a familiar set of arms wrap around my waist—stopping my fall. “You’re making a habit of this, Collins,” Brady said. His voice was low at my ear. My hands were on his chest—skin on skin—and my body was nearly sealed to his. I risked a glance down and saw that the towel was still in place—thank god. I think. “S-sorry,” I stuttered. “Maybe we need one of those slippery when wet signs out here,” Brady said. I think he was trying to keep it light, but his voice was strained.

“Hey,” I called to Collins. “Need a ride?” “Depends,” she said. “Are you clothed?” I gave her an annoyed look. “You can see me.” “Not all of you,” she said as she stepped closer to the truck. “You could be Winnie-the-Pooh-ing it in there.” I leaned over and pushed the passenger door open. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Collins.” Brady’s voice was near me a second later. How did he get over here so fast? “Hmmm?” “Are you sick or something?” he asked. He sounded worried. “No,” I said groggily. “Why?” “You slept the last half of the day away.” Brady crouched down, so we were almost at eye level. “Are you okay?” “I—have I really been asleep that long?” I asked, and Brady nodded. I noticed that the light coming in from the windows was more orange than it would be in the middle of the day. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” “I figured if you fell asleep at your desk, you probably needed the rest.”

“Fuck, Collins.” I felt his hand on my back and I wrapped my arms around the back of my head. “That sounded bad.” I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a whimper as I rocked back and forth—trying to move the pain out. “What can I do?” Brady asked.

don’t know what possessed me—maybe one of the apparently many apartment ghosts I had—but I reached out to fiddle with the ends of her hair at her shoulder. She sucked in a breath. “I’m happy you’re okay.” Collins closed her eyes for a second. “Thank you—for going with me,” she said as she opened them. “And for the corn, of course.”

When I looked up at him, it seemed like a blush started to creep up his neck. “S-so,” he stammered. “What were you thinking?”

“So we’re closing?” I asked hopefully. “We’re closing,” Brady said, and without thinking, I threw my arms around his neck. The sound that came out of him was somewhere between a laugh and a grunt—like I’d accidentally knocked the wind out of him. I shocked both of us, but if he knew what I was thinking about a second ago, he’d understand. He put one of his arms around me and lifted me in the air with ease, and I instinctively wound my arms tighter. We stayed there for a second—suspended in time—just long enough for me to remember that I liked the feeling of his arms around me.

Brady’s hand lingered on my waist for a few seconds. He nodded his head. “Go lock the door,” he said gruffly. For half a second, my mind went somewhere it absolutely should not have gone, which included but was not limited to sex on the half-finished couch he’d been working on today. “Wh-what?” I stammered. “Closing, remember?” Right. Of course. Brady wanted me to lock the door because we were leaving—not because he wanted to take me on the couch.

“What’s in there?” Brady asked. “It’s just like a hiking pack,” I said. “Extra water, first-aid kit, compass, a couple of those foil blankets—that sort of thing.” “That seems oddly…prepared for you.” “You know me for a few weeks, and you think you’ve got me all figured out?” I asked. Brady kept his eyes on the road, but I saw his mouth tilt up. “No, but I’m really trying, Collins.” I finally cracked the code on why my name sounded so good when he said

“I think you talk a lot—at least to me.” “You’re one of the very few exceptions to the rule,” I said. I really didn’t mean for it to sound flirty, so of course, it did. “I didn’t think you were into rules.” But I’m into you. And I was. Into him, I think. But I didn’t really know what to do with that. “I’m not,” I said. “Which is why I’m breaking that one for you.”

“My therapist used to say it’s because I spent my life trying to manage the emotions of the adults around me. I didn’t want to cause problems. I wanted everything to be easy. Most of the time, I still do.” Now I can better understand why he almost never complained. “You go to therapy?” “Not since I moved here, but, um, I had a lot going on before that and needed help sorting through it all.”

Brady glanced over at me—his gaze was warm, kind. He took a deep breath before he said: “I like you, too, Collins. In case you were curious.”

“He’s not yours,” I said to the woman. “He’s not the one you’re waiting for. He’s, um, he’s mine.”

“What the fuck?” he asked over the roar of the water. “You were not about to just jump onto that rock. Not after what just happened.” I turned my head to face him, and I felt his grip tighten. “It’s easy,” I said. “I promise.” We were close again. It occurred to me that all I would have to do is push up on my tiptoes and my mouth would be on his. A blush crept up my cheeks, and I quickly looked away from him. “You can’t be serious,” he said. I felt his breath at my ear.

“Do you want breakfast?” Brady asked. “I can make something with all those eggs Boone gives you.” “Something other than peanut butter toast might be good for once,” I said. “How can I help?” Brady moved to the other side of me and opened the fridge. “Keep me company?” The look he gave me didn’t just give me butterflies in my stomach. I felt like those motherfuckers had made their way all the way to my toes.

“How long were you guys together?” “Seven years.” Holy fuck. That’s a long time. “Do you ever miss her?” My voice was quieter than I meant for it to be. Brady grabbed a plate and pushed the eggs out of the pan onto it, followed by the bacon and toast. Then he brought the plate to where I was sitting at the table. He put it in the middle and sat across from me. His eyes met mine. God, they were so blue. It felt like he was looking right into my soul when he said, “Not even once, Collins.”

I shrugged. “I like to see a grown man cry every once in a while. It’s good for the soul.” I had gotten us lunch from Sevens—a Vietnamese restaurant owned by Sadie’s family.

“Sounds good,” Brady said. “We can be done down here anyway. I doubt anyone’s coming in with that horror happening outside, and I got ahead of schedule yesterday.” “Brady Cooper, I love it when you talk dirty,” I purred, which caused Brady to accidentally hammer his thumb. “Fuck,” he grunted, and put the injured thumb in his mouth.

I couldn’t really argue with him there. “Cold water,” I said, gesturing toward the sink. “Now.” “I think I like you bossy,” Brady said as he walked past me. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” I said. “And this is why I hit my thumb,” Brady muttered. “What do you mean?” Brady turned on the sink and put his thumb under the stream of water. “We flirt, I get flustered, bad things happen.”

When he got close enough, I held up one of my hands to his chest. I didn’t know what he was doing, but I didn’t know what I would do if he got any closer. “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice breathy. “Flustering you for a change,” he said. “Well, someone thinks highly of himself, doesn’t he,” I grumbled. “Tell me it’s one-sided, then.” He leaned down, so his head was near my ear. “Tell me it’s just me.”

“Brady and I were just having lunch.” I flipped my camera to show Brady, who looked like a deer in the headlights. “Uh, h-hi.” Brady waved. Boone grunted.

“You totally zoned out,” she said. “Where’d you go?” “Nowhere,” I said quickly. “It’s just hard for me to believe that you’ve never been in a relationship,” I said. “You’re…” Collins raised a brow at me. “I’m what, Brady?” “P-pretty,” I stammered. “And intriguing.”

“You have a good family,” I said. Collins nodded. “You’re a good listener.” I was starting to think that listening to Collins talk was one of my favorite things to do. “You listen to the ghosts, I’ll listen to you—deal?” “Deal,” Collins said.

“That makes me want to quote that one Prince song,” Collins said. “ ‘Dearly beloved—’ ” she started, but I cut her off. “Do not get that song stuck in my head. I’m begging you.” Collins’s eyes immediately went feline. “I love a man who begs,” she said. I shook my head. “I walked right into that one,” I sighed. If given the opportunity, I wouldn’t have a problem begging Collins for anything.

I thought about old churches and attics. I thought about the paint on my shop windows, and my full books. I thought about the Sweetwater River, and most of all, I thought about the woman beside me who could talk to ghosts. “Yeah,” I said, looking at her. “It was worth it.”

I heard Collins swallow. “It’s not just one-sided.” I brought my hand to the side of her face and lowered my forehead to hers. “I know,” I whispered. “I know, Collins.” I felt Collins’s hand in my shirt, and I used my other hand to pull the blanket tighter around us. “Do we still have an audience?” Collins pulled away from me to look around the apartment. “No, not anymore,” she said. “Why?” “Because I’m going to kiss you now,”

“I forgot to breathe,”

“You’re so good that I forgot to breathe.”

“Care...

“I might let that go to...

“I think you should—let it go to your head. I think you should be aware of how am...

I shook my head. “I’m going to go home,” I said. “Make out with Brady a little more.” Clarke’s jaw dropped open. “Collins Cartwright. Spill.”