Fast Lane | ✔️

22

Ch22

Anna and Brooks stared down at the beach below, waiting in silence as Claire stalked toward Miller.

"I can't watch this," Anna declared, turning her back away from the couple. She walked toward the outdoor couch and plopped down, covering her face with her hands. "This is all my fault."

Brooks stood in the ocean breeze and watched as Anna's shoulders began to lightly shake. "Hey," he said, walking over to her. He sat in the spot next to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This is not your fault," he said awkwardly, unaccustomed to catering to anyone else's needs but his own.

"Yes, it is," she said, looking up at him. "If I hadn't brought over that stupid magazine, Claire wouldn't be as upset as she is. God only knows what she's going to say to Miller! I'm not sure their relationship can survive this mess." She shook her head and pushed her hands through blonde hair as tears fell freely down her cheeks. "I never meant to upset her like this."

Brooks' eyebrows came together. "If you hadn't shown her, someone would have. I have a feeling there are a lot of people talking about this bloody issue right now. All those pictures . . ." he said, his voice trailing off. How could he have been so stupid? It was unfathomable to think that the pictures of him with that teenager had surfaced the way they had. What kind of monster would do something like that-purposely exploit someone's private activities? Not only would his record label be pissed at the mess he'd gotten himself into, what about the poor girl he'd been with? Was she even legal? He had no idea! What kind of trouble would she find herself in as a result of the tabloid?

"I've made such a mess of things," he said quietly.

Anna stopped crying and looked over at him. "I'm sorry, Brooks. I'm being insensitive," she apologized. "How are you holding up?"

He shook his head and laughed. "Oh, I'm just great!" he announced sarcastically, looking at her with a dour expression on his face. "Brooks Kennedy strikes again! You know, you probably shouldn't even be talking to me, Anna. I have a black cloud that follows above my head that likes to fuck things up from time to time."

Anna gave him a small smile. "I don't believe that. The last time we spoke, you said you were making changes," she gently reminded him. "And I know you have."

"How do you know?" he asked, giving her a disheartened smirk. "Maybe I was just feeding you a line of bullshit. That's what I do to girls, you know."

"No, you weren't," she said, sitting straight up in the chair. "You're not as bad as you think you are, Brooks. I refuse to believe it."

He stared at her in astonishment. Here was a girl who had a good head on her shoulders. She was sweet and kind, responsible and caring. A girl like that would never get herself mixed up in the kind of situations he found himself in on a regular basis.  "What makes you so sure?" he challenged.

"Because I can tell. I know you're unhappy with the choices you've made, and there's no way you'll ever be able to take them back. But you've learned from them. You're not the same person you used to be," she said with an encouraging smile. "The first step is admitting you have a problem."

Brooks was quiet for a moment, then softly chuckled. "You sound like a twelve-step program."

"I'm sure I do," Anna answered softly. "My father's a recovering alcoholic."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything-"

"It's okay, Brooks, I'm not offended!" she giggled. "The steps he took to get where he is today made a lot of sense to me, in all aspects of life, not just in recovery. My favorite step has always been step three, 'Make a decision to turn your life over to the care of God as we understand Him.' I think you've done that. Maybe not to God, per se, but to a higher power."