Page 9 of Break Out

“But what? Do you not want me to go as your date?” he asks, studying me.

“I do. I just . . .”

Of course I want him to go as my date. I’d much rather go with someone I know and actually like spending time with. But this feels like it’s crossing a line for us. I don’t know why though—we’ve spent time together before. He’s gone to work events with me as my plus-one, and it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe because this requires us to share a hotel room, be in a small space together for an extended amount of time, because it’s not like we could get separate hotel rooms.

No. Knowing my mother, she’ll insist I share a hotel room with my date. Heck, I wouldn’t have put it past her to have me share a hotel room with whatever man she arranged to be my date, either.

“What’s the problem then?” Brody asks, then takes a bite of his food.

“Nothing. Yes, I’d like you to go with me as my date. If you don’t mind being stuck with me for a week. Or you could always come down on Friday morning and be there for the weekend. That works too.”

He frowns. “And leave you alone with your family for the other days? Nope. I’ll be there the whole time.”

“If you’re sure.” I don’t know why I’m still arguing with him. Why I don’t accept his offer. It’s way better than the alternative. Having my mother set me up with someone I don’t know.

“I told you I was sure.”

“Okay. I’ll pick you up,” I say, accepting his offer before he can change his mind.

“No way am I sitting in your Civic for eight hours,” Brody says with a shake of his head.

“Fine.” I let out an exasperated sigh and throw up my hands in mock surrender. “We can take your SUV.”

“Nope, we are not driving for eight hours. We’ll fly.”

“That’s ridiculous. Last-minute tickets are going to be expensive,” I protest, glaring at him.

He gives me a look that says remember who you’re talking to and how much money I have. “Leave it to me. Don’t you worry about it.”

“Brod, that’s too much.”

“Aubrey, let me do this. Please.” The last word is whispered.

“Fine.” I huff. He winks at me before going back to his dinner. “So, how’s Brantley? And Mel?” I ask, changing the subject to ask about his brother and sister-in-law.

“They’re good. They’re leaving next week to go on a cruise to Alaska. All Wyatt’s talked about every time I’ve spoken to them is how he’s going to get to see really big whales.”

I grin at the mention of Brody’s ten-year-old nephew, Wyatt. “You should have gone with them.”

“Could you see me”—he lets out a bark of laughter—“on a cruise ship for fourteen days? I’d go crazy.”

“Nah, you’d have a good time. Plus when was the last time you saw your brother? And your nephew?”

“When we played in Seattle, in February, they came to the game. Went to lunch with them.”

“You should think about going to visit them. Spend more time with them. I’m sure Wyatt would love that. Now that you have time.”

“I’ll think about it.” Brody frowns, and something akin to anger or sadness crosses his features. What’s that about?

“You okay, Brod?” I ask, watching him closely, trying to figure out what’s going on. “Everything okay with Brantley?”

“Yeah.” He scrunches his forehead. “Why do you ask?”

I study him for a minute, trying to figure out how to approach the subject without having him shut down on me. Something’s going on that he’s not telling me about. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. Call it many years of friendship and knowing the many faces of Brody. There’s something going on. Maybe not with his family but with something else.

I take a deep breath and say, “You made a weird face when I suggested you go to visit them because you have time. Now that it’s the off-season,” I amend.