A Movie of Our Own (wlw)

20

Charlotte

Brooke lets out a deep sigh and rolls her eyes. It seems like she hates confrontation, I'll keep that in mind. "Fine, let's talk about this over a drink I guess." She says nonchalantly.
I stick out my hand for hers to take and I stand there for a couple of seconds with my hand out, waiting for hers.

She eventually gives in and places her hand in mine—and as soon as she does, I immediately make my way over to the bar and squish between the large crowd of people on the dance floor.

Every now and then I look behind me to give me an excuse to look at Brooke to see if she's even paying attention to me. And every time I look back our eye contact sticks until I turn back to see what's in front of me. The first two times were by accident. The feeling of Brooke behind me made me nervous and I was wondering if this was even real. Like, no way I'm holding hands with Brooke. But then the other times were solely on purpose. I wanted to look at her. She truly looked stunning and I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.

Seeing her dressed up startled something in me and it definitely wasn't a bad feeling.

After hustling through the crowd of dancing people we finally reached the bar and I chose the spot where I was originally sitting before Olivia had insisted on me dancing with her. It's quiet back there and most people didn't mind going back there, so if we were lucky, nobody would suspect anything, hopefully.

We then sit down and take our seats and the bartender I had before immediately comes up to us. "Hello. Back for seconds Charlotte Evans? I knew you'd come back, you missed me didn't you?" The man says with a flirtatious smirk. "Haha. Nice joke but we'll just take some drinks." I say in a more polite tone so he doesn't get the wrong impression because I honestly couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Fine with me. What would you like Charlotte and the sexy lady next to Charlotte?" He says. I look over to my left and see Brooke rolling her eyes. I Laugh to myself before I speak up to order something.

"A Moscow Mule." We both speak at the same time.
We then turn our heads to look at each other, and while Brooke keeps her straight face, I can't help but let a little laugh out.
The bartender chuckles to himself, "Two Moscow Mules coming up then!" He says before going off to make our drinks.

Me and Brooke then both turn out chairs to face each other, our knees touching each other unexpectedly, but we don't move them.

"Never took you as a Moscow Mule kind of gal." Brooke says amused.
"What did you take me for then?" I ask as I rest my arm on the counter.
"A Hawaiian punch kind of girl, perhaps." She teases as she shrugs her shoulders.

I rolled my eyes at her comment.
"My apologies. But if I can recall correctly, you wanted to talk about today?" She says as she moves slightly to move room as our drinks arrive.

"Yes, I wanted to talk about today." I say taking my drink in my hand.
"Well, do you mean today? Or the kiss we almost shared?" Brooke asks.

"Yes." I say. "Either way, why did you run? I mean I get the whole part of us being co-workers but we can't just run away from what happened earlier. You and I both know that's not how co-workers treat each other. Not that I care for labels but I think we both know the risk that comes with us even coming close to kissing. And I don't know if we felt like kissing because I was crying and it made everything emotional or if we were just feeling it—but I just can't move on without you at least acknowledging you have been avoiding me." I finish off with taking a sip of my drink before I look back at Brooke who seems that she's trying to process everything I said.

I continue looking at her, trying to read her, seeing if I can find out anything before she tells me anything but she's just still. She doesn't move. A part of me wants to ask her to hurry and rush her thought process. But I know that if I did that, she'd probably give me some crappy answer to make up for why she ignored me, but I want a complete and honest answer from Brooke. The Brooke that wanted me to have her jacket when she saw my shivers, the one who laughed with me all night at the silly little bar we go to—I just want to hear Brooke say why she did it. Then maybe we could go back to being regular co-workers.