For Keeps. For Always. by HALEY JENNER (top rated books of all time txt) 📗

the top of my head as I pull on my panties and shirt.

“I can’t wait to show you around tomorrow.” I don’t even attempt to hide my smile. The wide grin making me look ridiculously giddy and maybe a little juvenile.

Brooks clears his throat, the look of discomfort on his face forcing my smile to fall immediately.

“What?”

Pursing his lips, he scrunches his nose up. “Henley, baby, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

I could swear my heart free-falls at that moment. Plummets from its place in my chest to my feet so fast I feel nauseous.

“I—oh. I thought . . .”

He waits expectantly.

“You thought what?” He pushes gently when I choose silence.

I shake my head side to side vehemently.

Pity overtakes his features as realization dawns. “You thought I was staying.” His eyes close.

Unsure what to say, I grind my teeth.

“Fuck, Squirrel. I don’t know what to say.”

I feel hot. “So this was just a one-night stand? A quick fuck before you go back to your real life?”

He frowns, the crease in his forehead thick with uncertainty. “No.” His head shakes. “Yes.” He sighs. “That’s not what I mean. You sent me the video. You said you wanted me,” he tests on a shrug.

“I’m a booty call.”

"What? No. You’re more than that," he argues.

“It sounds like I made your dick hard, and you’re rich enough to get what you want, when you want it, and you wanted me. You wanted to fuck me,” I correct.

"I flew across the world for you!" he bellows.

"For a night with me," I correct him.

"What?"

"You flew across the world for a night with me. To fuck me, don't romanticize it."

His jaw shakes with unrestrained anger. “What do you want, Henley?”

He takes a poignant step backward, dropping his ass to the edge of the bed where we were only moments ago consumed by one another.

"Nothing." My bottom lip tips out dismissively. "Absolutely fucking nothing."

"Jesus fuck," he spits, rubbing his hands over his face. "I have work. A fucking job that I love, one that pays me really fucking well. One that lets me jump on a plane at any given opportunity to see someone I love. I can't just up and leave it. I have responsibilities."

“Taking photos of women in their underwear.” The heavy sound of my heartbeat perforates my eardrums.

He laughs. The sound full of animosity and judgment. "Says you, who pours booze down the throats of horny backpackers. A rewarding job, Henley?" he incites.

"You're an asshole."

He's quiet for a moment, my words sinking into pores and twisting his face horribly. "That's all you'll ever see, isn't it? How everyone fails you? Instead of feeling the way they love you. I dropped everything and flew to an entirely different country to see you, and still, it's not enough."

"Of course, it's not enough!" I scream. "I love you. Why would you flying in for a quick and nasty fuck ever be enough?" I step forward, only to back up once again, needing to force a space of separation between us.

"Then come with me," he implores.

He begs, he pleads, with four simple words.

I shake my head.

He doesn't know what he's asking.

"Don't do that, don't fucking deny me before you've even thought it through."

His posture has moved from hostile to defeated. Elbows rested on his knees, body completely still, eyes downcast.

I hate that I want to reach out and touch him. “Of course, I’ve thought it through.”

His eyes lift lazily.

“I think about packing up my life and finding you so much, it’s embarrassing,” I choke out.

“What’s stopping you?”

"I'd be the only one sacrificing."

His body lifts in the same way his eyes did, slowly, methodically. Only this time, there isn’t anything lazy about the movement. It’s soaked in bitterness.

"Sacrificing what?” he barks. “The shithole you live in? The surface friends you meet and leave because you're too fucking stubborn to let anyone in?” He stands, stepping toward me. “What the fuck would you be sacrificing by being with me?"

"Me," I whisper desperately. "I'd be beholden to you the way I was to my parents. I don't want to be dependent on anyone again. I can’t . . . I will not build my life around you. I need a life of my own."

Scratching his neck, it reddens with frustration. "I'm not a fucking prison guard. I just want you with me."

“And I want to find my happiness on my own before I can trust it with someone else.”

“You’ve been searching for years,” he snarls, his resentment giving way to rage. “Don’t you think you would’ve found it by now?”

I refuse to swipe at the tears flooding my eyes, so I let them fall. Cascading down my face in a pain I never imagined Brooks would inflict. “Ouch.”

“You were happy with me.” He speaks through gritted teeth. “Why can’t you fucking see that? Stop chasing a fucking fairy tale.”

My chest aches painfully. “You think me being happy is a fairy tale?” I ask. “A ghost story?”

He growls loud enough to send a spike of unease up my spine.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what you said.”

He doesn’t respond.

“You got what you came for, so why delay it?” I goad. “Why stay longer? You didn’t get your fill?” My voice raises as I speak. A fit of anger I have no idea how to place seeps through my pores and spews from me violently.

I told Jada he was forever, and he was looking at me like an international booty call.

He came here for one thing, and I played right into his little fantasy.

“You need more?” I rip my shirt from my body, letting my tits bounce free.

His nostrils flare.

My nipples harden.

“Let’s do it then.” I step forward, dragging my tongue across one of his nipples.

“Stop it,” he grits out.

Grabbing his hands, I use them to squeeze my tits, my breath coming out faster. “You don’t want this? You don’t want me?”

“No.”

“No?” I all but screech.

“I mean yes.”

“Then take it, Brooks,” I dare him. “That’s what you’re here for, to get your fill. You’re not interested in my life. You couldn’t give two fucks about my heart. You’re just salivating over my cunt,” I