I snort. “I’m not sure we have the same definition of fun.”
“I’ll treat you to donuts afterward,” he says in a taunting, sing-song voice.
“Well, how can I resist that invitation? Because it’s not like I could hop in my own car and go buy donuts on my own without going on a grueling run.”
He opens the car door for me and I slip inside. He stands in the doorway, one arm on the hood of the car, the other draped over the door. I’m practically eye-to-eye with the zipper of his pants, which sets my heart to racing. The smirk on his face makes me think he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“All right,” he concedes. “If donuts aren’t enough of a bribe, I’ll just have to think of something else.”
There’s an unspoken promise in his tone. And I want it—whatever this bribe is. I want it so badly I can hardly stand it.
I shift the conversation back to Kyle’s Kitchen on the way home in an effort to cool the raging heat inside of me. Talking about business plans definitely helps, although not as much as I’d hoped. He’s really cute when he gets all business-y.
When we pull into my driveway, he hops out of the car and comes around to retrieve me. We walk side-by-side to the front door, never touching, but I can still feel him. His warmth, his strength. On the stoop, we turn to face each other. The moon is still there, the breeze…the moment is still perfect.
He’s staring at me with those hazel eyes, so warm, so genuine. The playfulness is gone, the smirks, the teasing looks. It’s just him. Brandon.
“Well,” I say reluctantly. I didn’t really want to speak, but the silence was stretching on too long for my comfort. I open my mouth to say thank you but I don’t get it out. Instead, Brandon barges in, capturing my mouth while one hand cups the back of my head and the other pulls me against him at the small of my back. My body sighs in response, so grateful to finally have this. To finally know what it feels like to be in his arms, to have his lips on mine.
He delves deeper, dipping his tongue into my mouth, encouraging me to reciprocate, and I do. My heart is racing, my ears are ringing. Every inch of me is tingling. It’s everything I dreamed it would be. Everything I’ve been wanting for longer than I think I knew.
I break the kiss suddenly and push at his chest gently.
“You’re trembling,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be.”
“Okay.”
I step away. I don’t want this night to end, but I know I need to be alone. Immediately. So, I say the only thing I can think of to make this abrupt ending okay.
“I’m gonna want sprinkles on my donuts.”
A smile spreads his lips, still red and moist from our kiss. “I’ll see you at seven thirty. Don’t be late.”
He stands there until I’m safely inside, and then I watch him retreat to his car through the window.
“Jess, is that you?” Mom calls from the family room.
“Yup, it’s me.”
I follow the sound of the TV and find them sprawled out in their recliners. Dad is snoring, but Mom is wide awake. I really need to get my own place.
“Did you have fun, honey?”
I nod. “Yeah, we had a great time. But I’m beat, and I promised Brandon I’d go running with him in the morning, so…”
Mom’s eyes grow round. “Running? You?”
“I know, I know. First and last time, and it’s only because he promised donuts.”
“Doesn’t sound like a very fair trade-off.”
I laugh, but refrain from telling her about the other promise of things that money can’t buy.
“Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
And then I run upstairs to my room, change into my sweats, and collapse on my bed. I know I should be happy, and I am. But I can’t stop the sob that emerges from deep within me. I don’t know where it came from, but I felt it bubbling from the moment he pressed his lips to mine. The fact that they weren’t Kyle’s lips freaks me out. It shouldn’t. In my mind I’ve come to terms with his death, and I wanted Brandon to kiss me. It doesn’t make sense that it should drive me to tears, but it did. And all I can do is hope that next time isn’t quite so emotional.
THIRTEEN
“Are you having fun yet?”
I glance at Brandon—who is currently running circles around me as we make our way through the neighborhood at an ungodly hour—and roll my eyes.
“Come on,” he says. He’s not even panting, the bastard. “Beautiful, cool morning out in nature, the whole day ahead of us, doing something great for our bodies.”
“I can…think of…a million other things…that are good…for my body…that I’d rather…be doing…right now.”
“All right, all right,” he says, falling into step beside me and running like a normal person—straight ahead. “I’ll go easy on you. Just a loop around the ‘hood, then I’ll drop you off at home while I finish my training, okay? That’ll give you time to shower before breakfast.”
I close my eyes briefly, willing myself to get through this. It’s good for you, Jess. You’ll feel great later! Donuts are waiting! And then I pick up my pace and start pumping my arms.
“Woah!” Brandon calls as I leave him in my dust. A moment later, he’s caught up to me, just as I feel like my legs are going to fall off and my lungs are going to seize completely. “While I admire your newfound determination, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Slow and steady wins the race.”
“Not trying to win. Just trying to get back to the donuts,” I reply between gasping breaths.
Brandon laughs and then we run in silence for a few minutes. No one has mentioned the kiss yet. But I feel like he wants to—like he’s about to.
“Were your parents up when I dropped you off last night?” he asks.
“Mm-hm.”
“Did you…tell them about our evening?”
“Some of it,” I say, still gasping for breath in order to talk.
“Are you…okay with the other parts of it?”
I slow down, unable to maintain my run while talking about an event that took my breath away. I bend over and place my hands on my knees, like I always see runners do on TV. I take several long breaths, trying to replenish my deprived lungs of precious air. When I look up at Brandon, he’s standing still beside me. I don’t think we’re really supposed to stop, but I guess the topic is too important to discuss while in motion.
“I won’t lie,” I started, meeting his hazel eyes. “I wanted you to do that all night. I was waiting for it. Maybe longer than just last night.”
A smile spreads his lips.
“And I liked it. A lot.” I hesitate to tell him the next part, but he needs to know. “And then I cried myself to sleep.”
“Oh, my God,” he groans. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that you kept giving me the look all night—I thought it was what you wanted. I’m really sorry I misread things.”
“No!” I rush to correct him. “You didn’t misread. I did want it. But I…it’s just…” Prepare for him to freak out in 3…2… “Kyle was my first.”
I wait for the elongated, “Okaaaaaaay,” followed by the awkward, “Good to know,” followed by weeks of radio silence, at the end of which, I’ll find out he’s dating some other girl who turns out to be all legs and a swimsuit model for Victoria’s Secret.
None of that happens, of course. It’s all in my overactive imagination, because I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be the follow-up act to a girl’s dead fiancé. Instead, he just nods solemnly like he totally gets it. Like he totally gets me.
Then he steps forward, so we’re really close. So close I can smell sweat and a hint of last night’s aftershave. “I don’t want to rush you,” he says quietly. “I’ll be here—I am here. Whatever you need, whenever. However slowly or quickly you want to take things, or even…not at all. You just tell me how it’s going to be, okay?”
I stare at him, into h
is hazel eyes, getting lost in their depths. “I don’t deserve you,” I say.
His lips tip up into the barest hint of a grin. “I disagree.”
With the kiss conversation out of the way, we’ve fallen into a much easier time. It’s as if a weight’s been lifted. He knows where I stand; I know where he stands. There’s no rush. And that feels good.
But what feels even better is the donut I’m shoving into my face right now. I worked up quite an appetite on the run. I’m sure there are better ways to refuel my body, but I can’t think of any with the rainbow sprinkles staring me in the face.
“Is that really all you’re having?” I ask Brandon as he nibbles on a munchkin across from me. He got three, but he’s still working through the first one.
“I like to savor,” he replies. “Besides, I’m not that hungry. I had a protein shake after the run.”
“So that’s what took you so long.”
“Sorry,” he says with a wink. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”
“It was worth it,” I say, but it comes out more like “Ee wah wuf ee,” thanks to the gob of sugary confection stuck to the roof of my mouth. It makes us both laugh, and I have to work to keep the food from falling out.
“So, listen,” Brandon says once we’ve stopped giggling. “Caroline was hoping to be part of all this fundraising stuff. Any chance we could all get together for brunch tomorrow to set up a game plan? She says she’ll cook.”
“That sounds great!” I smile at him. “She’s doing better, isn’t she?”
He nods, and there’s a relaxedness about him. “She is. Thanks to you.”
I shake my head. “I just gave her something to do for a few days, but she…well, she’s given me way more than I’ve given her.”
Brandon raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”
I debate saying something flirtatious, and decide to risk it. “She’s given me her brother, for one.”
Brandon throws his dark head back in a laugh. “Well, I’m not sure I was hers to give, per se, but I can see your point.”
“And if it weren’t for the two of you, there would be no Kyle’s Kitchen. I can’t tell you what this project has done for me.”
Brandon reaches across the table and grabs my hand. There’s something almost more intimate about this than the kiss. I suck in a breath, trying to calm the butterflies that are flapping around in my stomach.
“Non nobis solum nati sumus,” he says, his eyes piercing me and holding me in their gaze. “Not for ourselves alone are we born.”
“I didn’t know you knew Latin.”
“I was a dork in high school, remember? Of course I know Latin.”
“Well, I’m glad you do. That’s a lovely quote.”
“We’re all in this together, you know? You, me, Caroline. The only way to forget about our own losses and our own troubles is to focus on people who need us.”
“It’s an amazing realization, isn’t it?”
He nods. “The most amazing.”
“So…is that how you got through it? Your parents’ deaths, I mean. By focusing on other people?”
He shrugs. “Sort of. I had Caroline that I had to worry about. There wasn’t much time to mourn my parents—I had to be strong for my sister.”
“That’s quite a burden for someone so young,” I say, wondering where on earth a nineteen-year-old boy had found the strength to deal with all he’d had to deal with.
“You know,” he says, leaning forward, a grin on his face. “This will sound weird, I’m sure, but I think it was a good thing I wasn’t popular in high school.”
“You do?” That’s hard to fathom.
“All that time alone gave me lots of opportunities for soul searching, learning about myself. I’d never really been invited to parties, so it wasn’t like I was missing out on anything by staying home on Saturday nights with my little sister.” His dark hair flops over one eye as he looks down at his chocolate glazed munchkin.
“What made you start running?” I ask. “If I remember right, you weren’t much of an athlete in high school.”
This makes him laugh. “No, not at all. But I heard that exercise raised your endorphins, and I thought that might help with the depression from losing my parents and the stress from becoming a parent and a business owner overnight.” He levels me with his hazel gaze. “It worked.”
My heart is racing all of a sudden. Maybe it’s the coffee? Or maybe it’s the question I’m about to ask. “Is that why you asked me to go running with you?”
He shakes his head with a sheepish grin on his face. “Nah. I asked you to go running with me so I could spend more time with you.”
I grin back as my heart slows again to its normal speed. He always seems to have the right answers to the most important questions. “Well,” I say, “maybe I could be persuaded to go for another run sometime soon. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of precious time with me.”
“That’s awfully generous of you.” He gives me a wink that makes my heart melt just a little. “And I promise there will always be a donut waiting for you at the end of the run.”
“How can I say no to that?” I laugh, and then I turn serious for a moment. “But seriously, thank you. I’m feeling…better. Much better.”
He nods, sincerity obvious in his eyes. “I’m glad. Very glad.”
By the time brunch rolls around the next morning, I’ve collected all kinds of info that I’ve printed out from the Internet about fundraisers, local venues, local celebrities, rental places and caterers. I spent half the afternoon at Office Depot buying supplies like folders and highlighters, and now everything is neatly organized into binders with dividers and sticky tabs. I feel so official, so grown up. But more so, I feel like I’m doing something important, and that’s lit a proverbial fire under my ass.
Brandon lets me in, and my nose is immediately accosted by the smell of bacon, eggs and syrup. It’s heavenly. Caroline is in the kitchen, dancing back and forth from the stove to the counter to the sink. I’m struck again by how light her hair is getting and how minimal her makeup is becoming. She’s still in all black, but there’s no leather or chains or deep purple lipstick, just a t-shirt and pleated skirt. She looks cute, not that I’d ever tell her that. She’d go running for the purple lipstick before I could bat an eyelash.
We spend the morning eating what might be the best meal of my life and plotting the first big fundraiser. I’m really getting the hang of it, and all my ideas are met with enthusiasm and ways to make them even better. I know I keep smiling like a goofball, but I can’t help it. Every moment spent on this project is like another tug of needle and thread through the fabric of my heart, like it’s literally mending it.
“Well,” I say, when it seems we’re all going to go cross-eyed from working through the binders, “I think we’re good to go. We can start calling our lists tomorrow. Are we all clear on what we’re each in charge of?”
“Clear!” Caroline shouts.
Brandon gives a little chuckle. “I’m good here, too.”
“Thanks for brunch, Care,” I say as they walk me toward the door. “That was crazy good.”
She beams. “Glad you liked it. God, I can’t wait to get the kitchen opened.”
“Patience, grasshopper,” Brandon says, putting an arm around Caroline’s shoulders and giving her a little shake. “All in good time.”
“Patience is not one of my virtues.”
“Well, thanks again, guys. See you…soon?” This last part is directed at Brandon. I know I’ve been with him all morning, but I’m feeling kind of eager to be alone with him.
The wink he sends back is reassuring and also manages to reduce my insides to goo. “I’m going for another run on Tuesday. You up for it?”
“The donuts are a sure thing?” I shoot back.
“I might even let you have two.”
I smile. “The only thing better than a donut is two donuts. Count me in.”
FOURTEEN
The past
three weeks have flown by so quickly, they’re simply a blur. I’ve barely gotten any rest, which is fine. I have a lot of time to make up for, having spent almost six months in bed. It’s as if I was saving it all up, just for this, and now I don’t want to sleep. I’m having too much fun. And somehow, I know Kyle is happy for me.
I’ve eaten my weight in donuts, but I’ve also run more than I’ve ever run in my entire life. Combined. I’m not quite ready for the half marathon that Brandon is doing, but I’m getting there, and he’s trying to convince me to do a 5K fundraiser for the kitchen. It’s a good idea, but first we have to get through the gala. Which is tonight.
It will be our first and most elaborate fundraiser for Kyle’s Kitchen. I’m so nervous I haven’t eaten all day, but the caterers are serving some of Kyle’s dishes tonight—the ones that the kids will make in the kitchen eventually—so I’m praying my appetite comes back before then. I don’t want to miss out on the reason for the season.
“Jess! Caroline is here!”
“Coming!” I call back as I grab my purse and rush out the door. Caroline, Mom and I have hair and makeup appointments, courtesy of our benefactor or, as I like to call him, my boyfriend. We haven’t made any official statement yet, not even to each other, but we’ve been spending almost every waking moment together between the fundraiser, running and the occasional date, so I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say we’re more than just friends.
“Hey!” I say as I bound down the stairs. Caroline is looking more and more like an innocent young girl. The black has almost entirely washed out of her hair, leaving a shiny, dirty blonde behind. She’s not wearing any makeup right now, which is strange, but refreshing. “You excited?”
“I’ve almost thrown up about eight times today already,” she says.
“Should I take that as a yes?”
We both giggle as Mom bustles back into the foyer, purse in hand. “Let’s hurry, girls. We don’t want to be late.”
The afternoon is everything you’d expect a girl’s day at the spa to be. Lots of laughter, champagne for Mom and me, sparkling cider for the minor, gossip magazines and lots of pampering. By the time we leave, we all look like a million bucks. Caroline’s makeup is a little on the funky side with electric purple eye shadow and a really bright pink lipstick. Her hair is done up in a 1950s type do, and I know it’s going to look perfect with the 50s-inspired dress she’ll be wearing tonight. Mom looks elegant, with her freshly dyed and highlighted strawberry blonde hair and accompanying makeup colors.
Learning to Live Page 10
