by Unknown
Slowly, he slid out of me. Both of us gasped, before he turned me over so we were lying side by side on my couch. Our chests touched thanks to the small piece of furniture. Reaching out, Brandon trailed his fingers over my bare shoulder. “How could it not mean as much? Fiona, I've been waiting for you for so long. You're what let me break away from Hector, from a life in the wilderness with nothing but a wolf and his hatred for humanity. You're everything to me, okay?”
My heart throbbed, threatening to steal my voice. “Then,” I whispered, cheeks flaring crimson with my rising paranoia, my building hope. Oh God what if he says no what if what if what if... “Then, do you—do you love me?”
Brandon blinked, setting my anxiety through the roof. I'm so dumb, no no, dammit take it back take it back. I parted my lips, ready to argue against my own admission. He leaned forward, closing the space with a tender twist of soft lips.
I wanted the moment to go on, to let it spare me from my humiliation. Brandon leaned back, his fingers moving from my shoulder to the back of my head. “Fiona, I've always loved you.”
Staring into his eyes, his confident smile, I wanted to say so much.
Instead, I just kissed him and didn't try. Nothing I said could have made that moment any more perfect. Brandon Beck loved me.
That night, we slept on the couch together.
It was the first time I didn't have the nightmare about drowning.
Chapter 8
My first mission when I woke up the next day—besides ogling Brandon's body as he slept on the couch where we'd passed out—was to head out and find him something to wear.
The blood stained shirt was chucked into my trash, so ruined I wondered why I'd thought it was worth trying to wash.
Shouldering my purse, I hurried out into the early morning grey.
There was a bounce in my step. Catching a glimpse of myself in a window, I realized I was grinning like a moron. How can I not? After last night... after everything... I've got Brandon back.
Pushing through the door of a clothing store, I wandered the racks until I found something both cheap and proper. Lifting the dark yellow shirt in front of me, I nodded to myself. This will do. He can come pick out something else later. That thought gave me pause. What ARE we going to do later? He's come back, I'm sure he plans to stay. Does he want to attend school with me?
CAN he attend school? Money aside—and money is going to be an issue—does he even have any identification? What happens if he comes out as Brandon Beck, lone survivor after all these years?
Wrinkling my forehead, I gripped the shopping bag and headed home. My steps were heavier, weighed down by realistic worries I didn't want to entertain. The scent of fresh donuts hit my nose, a tiny bakery pulling me close. Remembering my empty fridge, I gave in to impulse.
After all, Brandon was sure to wake up hungry.
Juggling a large box of warm, fresh pastries and a bag of clothing, I used the inside of my elbow to twist my front door open. Angel's meows met my ears, a sound that was so normal I didn't think about it. Not until I looked up, spotting Brandon awake on the couch. The cat was in his lap, enjoying his fingers working on her ears.
He was still shirtless. The sight reminded me too much of a cheesy 'male model' calender. “Oh! You're awake,” I said, kicking the door shut behind me.
“Just for the last few minutes, your cat was getting antsy. I found the cans of food and fed her, if that's alright.” He smiled up at me, a vision I wanted to drink in.
Dropping the box onto the counter, my eyes moved to Angel's recently emptied bowl. “That's fine. Thanks, actually. I was hoping I'd be back before you got up.”
Brandon stood slowly, sending Angel hopping away. “Where did you go? That box smells fantastic. Are those... donuts?”
I lifted my eyebrows, watching him approach. “In fact, they are. You could smell that from there?”
He wandered close, bending down to sniff the box. “I could smell them when you got outside the front door.” Peeling back the lid, he whistled. “Fiona, you're wonderful!”
Thrilled with his reaction, I turned away to grab the bag of clothing. “Am I? Originally, I went to get you a shirt to wear. The donuts were on the way—hey!” I turned back to find him finishing off one of the pastries, a second in his hand. “Slow down, we need to share those.”
He flashed me a devious look, chewing the rest of his mouthful. “Share? Us?” Quick, his arm wrapped around my waist. His lips tasted like sugar and strawberries.
Stunned, my body pressed into his warm skin. Oh, right. Shirtless. Clearing my throat, I lifted the bag between us. “Uh, here. Thought you might want something to go outside in after.”
He grabbed the bag gingerly, stepping back as he popped another donut into his mouth. “Ahh shirrff?”
I squinted at him.
Wiping his face, Brandon tugged the clothing out into view. “Sorry. A shirt?”
Peering into the box, I picked out a chocolate sprinkle covered pastry. “You can't walk around partially nude.” Taking a big bite, I sighed at the sweet burst of flavor. Though, I thought, glancing covertly over his muscular figure, I wouldn't be the one complaining.
Dusting his hands on his jeans, sending crumbs drifting, Brandon tugged the shirt over his head. The yellow material stretched, slightly too tight across his shoulders. The result brought out a magnificent silhouette. He ran his fingers over the front, across the indents of his abdominals. “Does it look alright?”
Speaking was a bad idea, I choked on my donut. Covering my mouth, I coughed. “Er—um, it looks great! Yeah!” It makes you look stunning!
Satisfied by my response, he rewarded me with a grin. “Thanks. You didn't need to do all this for me.”
“It's nothing! Really,” I said, nibbling my breakfast. “I was thinking that later, we could go out and get you some other things, too.” Brandon leaned on the counter, destroying an eclair in two big bites. I looked on, my mouth half open, not chewing or tasting. He's really wolfing those—no, ugh, bad choice of words. “You uh, you're hungry.”
He paused with the last donut in the air, inches from his teeth. “...Oh! I'm sorry Fiona, here, I didn't mean to eat them all!” Offering me the treat, his cheeks flushed pink.
I waved my hands, pastry included. “No no no. It's fine, I just didn't think you'd go through them so fast. Enjoy them, they're all yours.” My smile was tender, but he still looked uncertain. “It's really okay, Brandon. Have you not... you know, had donuts in a while?”
He scratched his neck. “I can't even remember when I had one last. Hector made us hunt animals. I stole things like soap, or toothpaste. Small things I could hide or carry easily, things even Hector admitted were hard to replace in the forest. But food like this, he'd have smelled it before I'd even considered stealing it.” He lifted the glazed dough reverently.
I understood a whole new aspect of what Brandon had gone through. Tightening my mouth with determination, I grabbed his hand. He didn't struggle as I put the other half of my breakfast in it, leaving him with two donuts and a baffled expression. “Eat,” I said crisply. “I can get us more later.”
First, he frowned. His eyes moved between the two treats, then to my serious stare. His laugh weakened me, his quick kiss disarmed me entirely. “Fiona, you're the best.” With that, he gobbled the glazed donut away, leaving my remnants to savor.
Touching my mouth with my own fingers, I turned away, flustered. “Actually, this brings up something I wanted to ask you.”
“Hmn?” His cheeks were bloated as he chewed.
“Brandon, uh... how do I put this?” Smoothing my hair, I began busying myself with wandering the room, cleaning up. Our two mugs of coffee still sat where we'd left them. Gathering them, I was reminded of our night of passion. “You ran away from Hector. You've been out of society for two years.” Two years. Donuts are like treasure to him.
Rubbing his hands together, he gave the empty box a wistful look. “That's right. Where are yo
u going with this?”
“Well, it's just...” Moving around him, I dumped the mugs in the sink. “What happens now?”
He gave me a blank stare.
Quickly, I lifted my hands in appeasement. “That sounds bad. I just mean, how do we help you get everything back to—back to normal? There's no way you have an ID or anything, or any money, right?”
The knots in his shoulders were visible. “No, I don't have anything.”
Stepping close, unable to handle his scowl, I was hugging him before I thought about my actions. In my arms, he was stone. “Brandon, that's not true. You may not have some basic stuff, but you do have me.” Lifting my head, I gave him my biggest smile. “The rest is easy, right?”
His body melted, hands wrapping in my hair firmly. “The rest is easier, by a long shot. I love you, Fiona.”
Hearing those words again, it made my heart swell bigger than the first time. “I love you, too. Brandon, you just returned to the world. You're going to have a lot of people asking you questions, but we'll get through it. And, when it's all done,” I murmured, resting my cheek on the yellow fabric over his hard chest, “you'll have an ID, you can even get a job... or you can go to school with me.”
He kissed the top of my head, stroking the curve of my back. “What will I tell the police? That I ran away for two years?”
I don't know what he can tell them. It doesn't matter, he didn't do anything wrong. “Just say you were rescued by someone who lived in the woods, that you got amnesia or something.” Looking up at him, I lifted an eyebrow. “People have it happen in the movies all the time.”
Snorting, Brandon gently pulled away. “Amnesia? Really?”
“Or whatever,” I said defensively. “Just tell them anything. It isn't important, Brandon.” My fingers found his, entwining tight. “All that counts is that we're together again. Everything from here on out... it's going to be perfect.”
Nothing can take him away from me.
Nothing, and no one.
* * * *
The first thing Brandon wanted to do was to take a shower.
I, of course, encouraged him to go right ahead. It wasn't until he'd been in there, water running for over an hour, that I finally knocked. “Brandon? You okay?” The pipes rattled, shower turning off abruptly. Standing back, I gaped stupidly as he stepped out into the hall. Wrapped in just a towel around his waist, skin gleaming brightly, he was... well. Hot. Just go with hot.
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all. His smile was full of boyish charm. “Guess I got carried away.”
Peeking into the bathroom, I observed the steam that had left everything soaked. Man, hope the paint on the walls doesn't peel. “It's alright,” I said, glancing at him sideways. “Was it nice?”
His answer was dreamy. “It was wonderful.”
Politely, I averted my eyes as he grabbed up his clothing. He'd redressed in seconds, scrubbing his damp hair with the towel. “What now, Fiona?”
“I was thinking,” I said quietly, shooting a tiny glance at him to make sure he wasn't naked, “that we could go downtown, give you a little tour? Maybe get some stuff for you, then some lunch.”
He dropped the towel on the floor. Then, catching my dubious look, picked it up quick. “Sorry. Didn't uh, didn't have to worry about where wet towels went... before. Or towels at all, really.”
As he turned to go hang it in the bathroom, I stared at his back. His action seemed innocuous, yet... I should try to remember how different his life has been. He's going to need to adjust.
But it'll be fine. Right?
Brandon walked back, thumbs in his belt loops. “Downtown you said, and lunch. You know, it kind of sounds like a date to me.”
My cheeks were warm, I made myself look into his sparkling eyes. “Is that a problem?”
With careful precision, he tucked his fingers into the top of my jeans. Pulling me close, Brandon's torso slid against me a second before his mouth did the same. It was a lingering kiss, the sort that made your scalp tingle. My lungs ached when it was over, as did the rest of me.
Just in a different fashion.
“How could that be a problem?” he whispered, eyes half-lidded. “Fiona, what was the last date we went on? I mean proper date,” he said suddenly, his forehead crinkling. It was clear he didn't want to refer to our six month anniversary. The night of the flood. “Didn't we go to some, like, awful movie?”
Giggling, I looked down at my feet. “You wanted to see 'The Giant Returns,' not me.”
“I thought it would be scary,” he grumbled. “I figured you'd freak out and cling onto me.”
Remembering that night in the theater, how he'd slid his arm around my shoulders nervously... it was as if I could smell the buttery popcorn all over again. “Yeah. Instead,” I said, breaking away with a sly smirk, “I spent the whole time laughing at how dumb the movie was.”
Shrugging into his ears, Brandon scuffed his shoe on the floor. “Did you have fun, though?”
“Yes,” I admitted, not needing to think. “Of course I did.” Reaching over, I grabbed my purse. “Come on. Let's go have a real, proper date as real proper adults, instead of awkward teenagers.” I can't promise I won't be slightly awkward, I thought silently.
“Technically we're still teenagers.” He looked me up and down, eyeing my outfit of plain jeans and a purple blouse. “You did say we could get lunch, too?”
The strange idea he'd just looked me over, thinking of food, crossed my mind. The doorknob was cold in my hand. “Um, of course. Wow, are you hungry again already?”
Chuckling, he following me outside, his hand brushing over my wrist.
“What can I say? I have a big appetite.”
* * * *
Our feet skipped across the sidewalk, carrying us downtown. Walking with Brandon beside me, his eyes scanning everything, it managed to feel... normal.
Normal, I like that.
Our smiles were big, hands occasionally touching shyly. It was as if we were sixteen all over again. It was like we were reclaiming the life he and I had lost.
Brandon strolled with his shoulders hunched, hands hooked in his pockets when they weren't reaching out to touch me. He only did it casually, for a second or two, but it felt like he was reminding himself I was there.
There were a number of stores downtown, the options for clothing shopping too expansive. Humming to myself in thought, I dug my phone from my purse. Maybe I should have looked up where to go, done some research or...
“Oh,” Brandon said, peering over my shoulder. He was close enough for me to get a whiff of his dizzy-spell inducing scent. “Nice phone. I haven't touched one in—well.” Trailing off awkwardly, he leaned away.
The way he kept staring around at everything but me and my phone, it was obvious what he wanted. “Here.” Lifting my hand, I poked him with the device. “Go ahead, check it out. I was just looking for reviews about where to find nice clothes for men around here.”
“You can do that on this?” He squinted at the phone, playing with the screen.
I couldn't control my smile. “Phones have gotten pretty amazing.”
For some time, we stood in the shade of an overhang. Brandon was entertained by the phone. I was having fun just watching his curiosity in action.
Abruptly, his nostrils flared. “Hey,” he said, lifting his eyes from the screen. Following his gaze, I saw we were standing beside a tiny pink shop. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Er, ice cream?” Brandon didn't glance at me, he was ogling the store front blatantly. He just ate all those donuts an hour ago, is he really hungry again? “Did you want to go inside?”
“Can we?” He perked up, already opening the door. The smell of sweet cookies and vanilla cones hit our face dead on. I inhaled gently, but Brandon... the sound of his low pitched growl was obscene.
I followed him inside, considering the excited glint in his eyes. He probably hasn't had ice cream in years. I can't imagine that, wou
ld I be just as crazy about this kind of stuff if it was kept from me? Studying Brandon, how he bounced on his heels and leaned over the big glass display of flavors, a flutter of sadness washed over me.
All because of that guy... Hector. It was strange, part of me wanted to thank the other werewolf—I still wasn't ready to think about that so casually—for saving the boy I loved. Yet, hearing about everything Brandon had endured because of Hector, it made me clench my hands.
Why would that guy hate people so much? I don't get it. I wonder if Brandon knows.
“Fiona!” Brandon shouted, breaking into my moment of bitter angst. He was pointing, cheek pressed to the glass. Above him, the store clerk looked nervous. “They have so many flavors here! Let's get some, okay?”
My smile was helpless. “Sure, of course.”
It was a situation that made me swell, made me forget the dark thoughts of hate in my mind. Thinking about Hector, about my anger for someone I didn't know, was impossible when Brandon was in such a good mood.
Watching him trying to convince the clerk to let him have six scoops, when the limit was five, brought me back down to reality. It was a moment I wanted to delve into, to enjoy fully for all it was.
He tried to offer me my phone back, but I waved him off. “Hang onto it, you can play with it some more after we eat.”
Beaming, he shoved it deep into his jeans pocket. After all, he needed both hands to handle the monstrosity of ice cream he'd coerced the clerk into giving him.
Chapter 9
I thought we would get lunch, but after stuffing myself with ice cream my stomach wasn't so sure. Every place we passed that smelled good, Brandon wanted to go inside. I'd lost my appetite, so I was relieved when the next time he pointed at something it wasn't food.
“An arcade?” Blinking, he reached down to grab my hand. “Let's go play together, how does that sound?”
With his warm fingers wrapped on mine, it sounded perfect. “Yeah, let's check it out.” Truthfully, I didn't care what we did. As long as it made Brandon happy, I was delighted. The fact we were spending the day together, eating sweets and laughing, it seemed like an impossible dream I was scared to wake up from.
