Free An Unexpected Love Story (Love Story Book Two) by Rachel Schurig Page A

yet.
    “Is it okay for me to say that?” John asked. “I know you work here, and everything, and I know I’m only here for the weekend. But I really like you, Brooke. I can’t help it.”
    “I like you, too,” I whispered, his words making my stomach swoop in that delicious way.
    “Do you?” he asked, again tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. This time he let his hand rest on my shoulder when he was done.
    I forced myself to look at him, never having been one to go all shy and modest with a guy. “Of course.”
    “Why did you leave so suddenly tonight? Was it because I asked you about that guy?”
    “Yeah,” I admitted, looking down at my drink. “I was feeling a little bad about myself, to be honest.”
    “Why? Is there something going on with him?”
    “Not really. Well, kind of. We, uh, we’re not dating, but we have hooked up a few times,” I said, hating myself for feeling so guilty. Why should I feel so bad about things that had transpired between two consenting adults? Emily would say this was typical of me; the constant battle between my desire to control my own sexuality and my subsequent worrying about what my behavior said about my character. It was a battle I was getting pretty sick of having with myself.
    “Okay,” John said, pulling my attention away from my disquieting thoughts. I met his eyes; he was looking at me with a steady, unconcerned expression on his face.
    “Just, okay?”
    John shrugged. “Why would I care that you’ve hooked up with him? I wasn’t assuming that you’ve never been with a guy before, Brooke. It’s none of my business.”
    The nonchalant confidence of his words made me feel better immediately. I was an adult, in charge of my own decisions and actions. I had nothing to feel ashamed of, regardless of what Justine and the girls like her said about me.
    I smiled at John, and inched myself ever so slightly closer. “Thanks.”
    Without breaking eye contact, John took the glass from my hand. He leaned forward, reaching over me to set it down on the side table behind me. The nearness of him, the heat from his body, washed over me, making my breath hitch in my chest. God, he smelled good. Finished with his task, he leaned back, but not nearly so far as he had been before. From this proximity, I could see the little gold flecks in his eyes.
    “You’re gorgeous, Brooke,” he said simply, then reached out and took my face in his hands, moving forward to kiss me before I even had a chance to thank him.
    It was my experience that when guys looked half as good as John, they were often not that great in the kissing skills department. They could probably get away with lack-luster kissing, finding it easy to get girls on their looks alone. John, to my great relief, did not fit that pattern. He was a great kisser.
    I wish I could say I was surprised this was happening—that John had swept me off my feet and rendered me senseless with passion, or something like that. But the truth was, I knew all along that we’d end up here. I knew it from the moment he’d invited me up for a drink. Hell, I’d known it from the moment he smiled at me outside of his room that morning.
    “I’m just here for the weekend,” he said suddenly, pulling back to look at me. “I don’t want to lead you on, or anything.”
    I smiled at him. “Your concern is cute. But I’m a big girl. A very busy girl. The only thing I have the time and inclination for is a fling.”
    John smiled at me. “Well then let’s make the most of it.”
    Within minutes, John was leading me over to the bed, and I was more than happy to comply, having finally silenced my inner critic. I was allowed to take happiness where I could get it, and I’d be damned if I let anyone—including myself—tell me otherwise.
    And I had a feeling John could make me very, very happy.

    Chapter Eight
    “What have you got there?” John asked me an hour later, pushing himself up onto his elbow and peering at me over the