Just For The Weekend

Chapter Five: Walls Begin to Fall

Brooke kept telling herself it was just a ride. Just a casual drive to shake things up. A little getaway to Charleston since she had nothing else going on, and Jake just happened to have a truck and a cooler full of snacks. It wasn’t a date, even if he packed sweet tea, made her laugh the whole way there, and played Sam Cooke like he knew she had a soft spot for old soul music. And sure, he held the door for her each time without making a big deal out of it. Then there was that gray button-down he wore, sleeves rolled up, and those shades that made him look like trouble wrapped in Southern charm. She told herself it wasn’t a date, but her heart didn’t seem to agree.

Charleston was all about cobblestones and charm—sunlight dancing on old bricks, gas lamps flickering in narrow streets, horse-drawn carriages clattering past pretty pastel houses. They strolled by the Battery, poked around quirky antique shops, and shared some fried green tomatoes at this cozy café where the owner treated Jake like he was family.

"You sure you're not running for mayor?" Brooke joked as they were leaving.

Jake just smiled. "Wouldn’t pass the background check."

Her eyebrows shot up. "What’s hiding in your past, then?"

He shrugged. "Nothing criminal, but I wasn’t always the guy running an inn."

"Do you miss it? The old life?" she asked.

He stared out at the water for a moment. "Sometimes. The simplicity. The structure. The distraction."

Brooke nodded. "Yeah, distraction was good until it wasn’t anymore."

He looked over at her. "What about you? What did you want before life got all tangled?"

She paused for a moment. "I wanted respect. Safety. Enough money to not rely on anyone else."

"And now?"

"Now I just want to feel like I belong somewhere, without all the pressure to keep up appearances."

Jake didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

They found themselves at a small art gallery towards the end of King Street. It was bright, filled with ocean views, quiet portraits, and driftwood sculptures. Brooke stopped in front of a painting showing a woman standing in shallow water, her back turned, with a gull flying behind her.

Jake came up next to her. "You like it?"

"She looks like she’s both leaving and coming home," Brooke said quietly.

"That’s kinda how you look sometimes."

She turned to him, surprised. "How I look?"

"Like you’re not sure if you’re escaping something or heading towards something new."

The atmosphere felt heavier, kinda intimate.

"Jake..."

"I know," he said softly. "Still not asking for anything."

But something changed in that moment, and they both felt it.

On the way back, the air was thick, but not in a bad way, just...charged. Jake drove one-handed, the other resting near the gearshift, close enough that she could feel his warmth. Her hand itched to move just a bit, just enough to touch him, but she didn’t. She looked out the window, reminding herself not to ruin things by wanting more than she was allowed.

When they got back to the inn, it was just after dark. The lights sparkled on the porch like stars, and the ocean was softly humming in the background. Jake parked and turned off the engine, but neither of them moved.

Brooke turned to him. "Thanks for today."

He met her gaze, his voice soft. "Anytime."

There was a long pause—a moment that felt like a decision. And she made hers. She leaned in just a little and kissed his cheek.

It wasn’t exactly a kiss. Not really. But it was kinda like one too.

Jake didn’t flinch, his jaw was tight, eyes searching hers. Then slowly, he turned his head just enough to close the gap. And she let him.

His lips brushed against hers like a question. Soft, intentional, careful. She responded without saying a word, leaning in, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into his shirt. The kiss turned deeper—not rushed but so real, like they were both trying to memorize something they shouldn’t have been doing.

Jake pulled back first, breathing heavily, eyes locked on hers. "That wasn’t casual."

"No," she whispered. "It wasn’t."

Neither of them put a name on it, but they both understood. It was more than either had bargained for.

Later, alone in her room, Brooke couldn’t sleep.

She wasn’t thinking about Tyler or work or what everyone else expected from her. Just how Jake’s hand had brushed her cheek when they broke apart. The weight in his eyes. How her heart felt a little lighter now.

She tried to convince herself it was just a moment. Just a kiss. Just for the weekend. But deep down, she knew she was fooling herself.