Page 169 of Tell Me I'm Enough

“I want you so fucking badly, Simone—”

The second the name leaves my mouth, the room goes dead quiet.

Brooke freezes.

The sound of footsteps outside the door and our heavy breathing are the only things filling the space between us.

My stomach drops through the floor.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “I—Brooke, I’m sorry.”

She studies me for a long second, then exhales like she’s letting it go. She slides off the counter, pulling her skirt back on.

“It’s okay,” she says, and I can tell part of her actually wants to mean that, while the other part is obviously disappointed and a little hurt.

“Brooke—”

“It’s okay,” she says, waving me off. “It’s…fine.”

“It’s not fine,” I say.

“It is,” she insists, sliding past me. “I knew you weren’t…here. Not really. I shouldn’t have even tried anything.”

Guilt hits me straight in the gut.

Before I can say anything else, there’s a hard bang on the door.

“Why is this door locked?”

My blood runs cold.

Brooke’s eyes flick to the door, then back to me.

“It’s your dad,” she whispers unnecessarily.

I run a hand over my face, not wanting to deal with him, and walk over to reluctantly unlock it.

My dad steps in like he owns the place.

I guess he fucking does, but whatever.

His gaze moves over the room, scanning. He stares at Brooke for a long moment, obviously judging her, then his eyes find mine, and his jaw tightens.

“Out,” he says to Brooke without even looking at her again.

Brooke doesn’t argue. She grabs her bag, chin still lifted like she refuses to be ashamed.

“You’re drunk,” he says flatly once she’s gone.

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “That’s your big observation?”

“You come into my office late,” he snaps, “you stumble past my employees, you reek of whiskey—“

“It’s Scotch,” I correct.

He stares at me and lets out a sigh before continuing. “And now I find you in a locked room with a—”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “Don’t call her anything but her name. She’s a human being and one of your employees, a good one at that.”