My Dilemma

by Pixie Perkins

  “So, are you here by yourself?” he asks with creased eyebrows, glancing around the area.

  “Yep,” I reply, picking up my hash brown patty, “it’s just me.”

  Third wheeling from afar…

  “Ah,” he comments with a nod, “well—do you want some company?”

  I don’t know, do I want some company? It’s not a horrible idea, I guess. At least it’ll keep me from talking to myself.

  “Sure,” I say, sliding over so he can sit next to me, “company would be nice.”

  Company would be nice? Lame, Megan.

  I brush it off though and move my food so it’s in front of me.

  “So, is that like some of kind breakfast burger?” Liam asks after sitting down.

  “Yep, it is.”

  Not “like,” it is a breakfast burger.

  “Nice, I just got a couple of hotdogs with the works.” He proceeds to laugh. “I’m not even sure what they topped them with though.”

  I find myself laughing too. “Yeah, that mixture definitely looks…interesting.”

  He makes a face as he studies his hot dogs. “I’m pretty sure it has crushed potato chips in there. And maybe some olives?”

  Ew.

  “So much for wanting to try something new,” he says, pushing his tray away from him. “I’ll just give them to Lincoln. He eats almost anything.”

  I nod. “Sounds like Kyle.”

  “Maybe it’s the age,” he muses with a thoughtful look on his face.

  “Yeah, maybe.” And then I begin to eat my hash brown patty.

  Not to be mean or anything, but I think talking to myself would’ve been more interesting than this conversation. Just saying.

  “So, last week at the soccer game…” he trails off as I take a few sips from my bottle of water. “Was I right about that guy being your ex?”

  I almost choke on my water, but thankfully manage to swallow like a normal human being. “Um, why do you ask?”

  Like, seriously? Why does he care?

  I’d rather the boring convo than talking about Brayden.

  “Because he’s standing over there by that food truck,” Liam says, barely nodding past me, “and he keeps looking this way.”

  Excitement tears through me before I can even stop it.

  Brayden is here? What is he doing here? Even though I want to turn my head and see for myself that he’s really here, I force myself not to.

  I’m still supposed to be giving him space; and looking in his direction will only make that harder.

  “He’s…kind of my ex,” I answer Liam’s original question, screwing the cap back on my water bottle. “It’s a long story.”

  He clicks his tongue. “Well, I think he’s coming this way.”

  My eyes widen at that. I know I told myself on Wednesday that I’d listen to whatever he needs to say to me…but I don’t know if I’m ready. What if I won’t be able to handle it?

  “Megan.”

  Chills race down my spine at the sound of his voice, and I realize right then and there that I’ve missed him even more than I thought.

  I turn and look up to see him standing next to the table, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he echoes, licking his lips, “is it okay if we talk?”

  I can’t stop my leg from bouncing underneath the table. He wants to talk. He’s finally ready to talk.

  “I should get going,” Liam says, picking up his tray of disgusting hot dogs as he stands up. “See ya, Megan.”

  I offer him a slight smile. “Night, Liam.”

  He returns the smile, nods to Brayden, then walks off to where all the food trucks are.

  “So,” I drawl, trying to ease the awkward tension, “I didn’t know you liked food trucks.”

  Ugh, why did I just say that?

  Brayden glances over his shoulder, and then looks back at me. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.”

  Wait…what? We sit together and talk for maybe fifteen minutes, and suddenly I’m interested in him?

  I frown, my nervousness slowly shifting into annoyance. “I’m not.”

  “Clearly.” He scoffs, freeing one of his hands from his pockets so he can run it through his dark hair. “I mean, is this why you’ve been acting weird? And avoiding me?”

  “You’re the one who’s been acting weird and avoiding me!” I snap at him, unable to stop myself. “And I can’t even believe that you’re here now, accusing me of lying to you about Liam when all I’ve done these past few days is miss you!”

  He proceeds to make a frustrated sound. “Explain Wednesday then, because when I tried to talk to you it was pretty obvious that you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  My leg resumes its bouncing. “I told you that I didn’t want to be late for class.”

  “Megan,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he gives me an unconvinced look, “we both know that wasn’t the real reason.”

  I can’t believe we’re having this conversation here, at a food truck event of all places…

  “Meg?”

  I let out a loud sigh. “I wasn’t ready to hear that you were having second thoughts about the kiss.” I’ll expand my horizons of maturity and listen to whatever he has to say. “But, I’m ready now. So, go ahead and say it.”

  He blinks, his eyebrows creasing almost simultaneously. “I can’t.”

  Now it’s my turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

  He glances at the sky, then looks back down at me. “Can we walk?”

  Right, the sun is starting to set.

  “What about my food?” I ask lamely, remembering how out last sunset stroll went.

  “Uh…” he trails off with a slight chuckle. “Well, if you’re worried about someone or an animal taking it, then maybe you can put it in your car?”

  I’m not going to walk away.

  Going to my car is way too much of an easy out from this conversation. I could literally just leave.

  “No, you know what? It’s fine.” I get up from the table and wipe my hands with one of my napkins. “If someone or an animal decides to take my food…they probably need it more than I do.”

  Plus, Lora’s going to be paying me back for it anyway, so it’s not like I’m going to lose money.

  Yeah, I know that sounds harsh, but I am here as a favor for her. Just saying.

  “So,” Brayden drawls as we begin to walk away from the picnic table, “I can tell you right now that I have not had second thoughts about the kiss.”

  My pulse quickens without any warning. “You haven’t?”

  “No,” he replies, shaking his head, “but I was convinced that you might’ve been. Which is why I thought you and Liam—”

  “He just saw me by myself and offered to keep me company,” I interrupt him, “tonight is the first time I’ve even seen him since Saturday.”

  Relief fills his eyes as he moves to stand in front of me. “Meg, I was only avoiding you because I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

  “Tell me,” I reply, trying not to seem overeager, “tell me what you wanted to say.”

  He’s hesitant at first, I can tell by the wary look on his face, but then he nods. “Okay.”

  And now I’m back to feeling nervous.

  “I wanted to say…Megan, I like you a lot,” he says, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry for all the times I acted like an idiot…and even though it might be too soon, I want you to be my girlfriend again.”

  Goodbye to feeling nervous. Hello to feeling BEYOND excited.

  I force myself to swallow the happy shriek that wants to escape. “It’s not too soon.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I don’t want to rush anything if you’re not.”

  “I’m more than sure,” I match his tone, stepping closer to him, “just…promise me something.”

  His hand disap
pears to the back of my neck. “What’s that?”

  “No more avoiding or ignoring each other,” I tell him in a firm tone, “it’s exhausting.”

  “Agreed,” he says with a lopsided grin, “no more avoiding or ignoring each other.”

  Silence falls between us, and Brayden slowly brushes his thumb over my bottom lip as his eyes watch me expectantly. He wants to kiss me…I’m sure of it. And I want to kiss him too, so badly.

  “Megan,” he drawls, his voice becoming low again. But then he doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t need to. His thumb grazes across my jawline, and my eyes flutter when he leans in—his mouth hovering over mine.

  This time, however, I kiss him first. I tilt my chin up just enough so my lips meet his, and he doesn’t waste a single second in kissing me back.

  It’s cloud nine all over again, except somehow this is even better. Will it be like that whenever we kiss? That every time is better than the last? Am I always going to feel like there’s some kind of…electricity shooting through my veins? Because I can definitely get used to that.

  With his right hand still cradling my neck/cheek, Brayden’s left arm snakes around my waist and he tugs me even closer to him as we continue to kiss. And kiss. And kiss. And then kiss some more. At this point, I’m grasping his upper arms while hoping my legs don’t give out. But, if they do end up giving out on me anyway, it would be so worth it.

  When we finally break apart, I try not to sound like I’m gasping for air, but then I hear Brayden’s heavy breathing…so I decide that I don’t feel as bad.

  “Whoa,” he comments, moving his hand to my back, “that was—”

  “Yeah,” I agree, feeling a little light-headed, “it was.”

  “Is it crazy that I wanted to ask you right there at the roller rink to be my girlfriend again?” he muses, both of his hands trailing down my spine. “Maybe even before that?”

  “No, it isn’t crazy,” I say with a guilty laugh, “I mean…I thought you were going to talk about us dating when you dropped me off at my house, but then you told me about my mom’s peanut butter cookies instead.”

  He laughs too, except his is mixed with a sigh. “I was going to bring it up, but I wimped out again.” Despite the sky getting darker, I can still see his hazel eyes glinting mischievously. “I guess I should’ve just gone for it though, huh? Instead of avoiding and ignoring each other these past few days, we could’ve been dating and—”

  “Kissing,” I finish for him, my gaze drifting to his now-swollen lips. Lots and lots of kissing.

  “It sounds like you’ve changed your mind about me being a bad kisser,” he says with a smirk on his face, “am I right?”

  I can’t help but glare at him. “Well, I haven’t changed my mind about you being annoying.”

  His response is to kiss me. Once, twice, and then a third time. Each of them short, but meaningful, and still breathtakingly incredible.

  “How about now?” he asks, his lips slowly leaving mine. “Less annoying?”

  “You are way too sure of yourself,” I say, despite my hazy mind. I proceed to jab a finger at his hard chest. “Is that going to be your plan from now on? Every time I say you’re annoying, you’re going to try and change my mind by kissing me?”

  He laughs, looking especially smug. “Maybe. Why?”

  “Well,” I drawl, letting my hands slide to the back of his neck, “because I think it’s a pretty good plan. You know…for an annoying neighbor, anyway.”

  That earns me yet another kiss from him, except there isn’t anything short about this one.

  Yeah, I think “a pretty good plan” might’ve been an understatement.

  Epilogue

  ~Almost six weeks later~

  “Megan? Can you get another bag of chips from inside, please?” Mom asks while pouring Kyle a glass (and by glass, I mean paper cup) of lemonade. “That third bowl needs to be refilled.”

  Anything to get away from this crowded, noise-infested backyard. Why do people think that neighborhood barbecues are fun? They’re not. I actually think they’re worse than housewarming parties; and I’m not just saying that because the last housewarming party I went to was at the Knights’ house—where Brayden and I may or may not have spent a good portion of the time kissing each other any chance that we got.

  Ugh, I know that the Knights would be late in coming over…but I didn’t think they’d be this late.

  “Meg?”

  “Sure, Mom,” I tell her, frowning at Kyle’s impatient bouncing, “just the plain potato chips, right?”

  Because I’m not looking to get lectured for refilling it with the wrong kind.

  “Here, Ky-Ky,” Mom sighs, giving him the paper cup, “and please don’t try to walk around while you’re drinking it.”

  Kyle starts gulping the stuff like there’s no tomorrow, and Mom sets the pitcher of lemonade down on the table before turning her attention to me. “What was your question, hon?”

  “Plain potato chips?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, that’ll be—” Her gaze snaps right back to Kyle. “Ky-Ky, you’re going to end up choking if you…”

  Andddd it’s time for me to go inside.

  I leave Mom to correct Kyle, and then I weave past various loud neighbors until I make it into the house. The music and chatter get quieter as I walk toward the kitchen, and I let out a content sigh once I don’t hear any of it at all.

  I wonder if Mom would notice if I didn’t go back outside.

  The answer is yes, unfortunately.

  Instead of rushing to find another bag of potato chips, I pull my phone out from the back pocket of my jean shorts and look over the text conversation I had with Brayden almost thirty minutes ago.

  Me: How late is late?

  Me: Braydennnn. I’m dying over here.

  Brayden: Lol, we’re still at the grocery store. Mom can’t find the “right” hot dog buns. I still don’t know why she waited until TODAY to get them. Smh.

  Me: Did I mention that I was dying over here?

  Brayden: Sorry, babe. I’m trying.

  Brayden: Hang in there.

  I sent him a sobbing emoji, and that was the end of it. He didn’t send anything back. The jerk…I wish he’d just get here already.

  Gross, I sound like a clingy girlfriend.

  I shake my head as I repocket my phone, and then I open the pantry door to grab a bag of chips. Maybe it’ll rain and everyone will have to go home.

  Ha, as if.

  “So, I hear you needed help refilling a chip bowl?”

  Finally.

  “It’s about time you showed up!” I huff, the bag of chips in hand as I turn my attention to Brayden. “And just who exactly said I needed help?”

  “Hailee mentioned you were in here,” he replies with a shrug, holding up the empty chip bowl from outside, “so I volunteered to help.”

  I’m surprised Hailee even told him anything, considering she’s been occupied with her phone this whole time.

  “Well, I was going to just take the bag out there,” I say, watching him as he sets the bowl on the island counter, “but thanks.”

  “Ya know,” he drawls, taking the bag of chips from me so he can set it on the counter as well, “it doesn’t look like you’re dying to me.”

  “I had to witness Mr. and Mrs. Gravinsky both try to limbo,” I tell him with a scowl, “I was definitely dying, okay?”

  He laughs, slipping his arms around my waist. “That does sound pretty bad.”

  “It was horrible,” I grumble, letting my hands latch behind the back of his neck. “Plus, Mrs. Penning kept glaring at me! I don’t get it! I’m always nice to her, you know that, but it’s like she can’t stand the sight of me!” I roll my eyes, feeling annoyed all over again. “And then, to make things even worse, some kid almost spilled his macaroni salad on my new shirt.”

  Sure, it’s just a plain dark gray shirt, but STILL.

  “Hmm,” he hums, his thumbs brushing a
gainst my back, “well then, it’s a good thing I got here before anything else happened.”

  Knowing what’s coming next, I lean in closer to him. “It’s a very good thing.”

  “A very good thing, huh?” he murmurs, dipping his head down toward me. “And to think that you used to hate having me around.”

  His cool breath caresses my skin as he places a kiss to my forehead. Then to my jawline. Then to my neck…

  What were we talking about again?

  Who cares?

  I’m just wondering how long it’s going to take for him to actually kiss me.

  I get my answer a second later.

  Brayden’s lips capture mine in a gentle, yet firm way—and I kiss him back, embracing the familiar chills that race through me whenever we kiss. I let my fingers lazily rake through his soft hair, and he holds me tighter as the kiss deepens.

  Let it be known right now: I will never get tired of kissing this guy.

  We continue to kiss for another minute or two, and then Brayden pulls away to rest his forehead against mine. “Too bad we can’t just stay in here for the rest of the barbecue.”

  “Mmm…” I slide my hands down his toned arms. “Well, maybe we can.”

  I sure as heck wouldn’t mind trying, that’s for sure.

  “Megan!” I hear Dad call from the other side of the house. “Your Mom is asking about some chips? Can you get that? I only came inside to grab my binoculars because there’s a…”

  The rest of his words fade out—followed by the sound of the back door opening and then closing—but clearly, he saw some kind of bird outside and now wants a closer look at it before it flies off.

  Typical Dad.

  “There’s always later,” Brayden says with a sigh, his arms leaving my waist as he takes a step back, “unless you already have plans for tonight.”

  “I have zero plans for tonight,” I tell him as he opens the bag of chips. “I’d probably just be hanging out with Lora, but she’s going to go see a movie with Holt, so I am completely available to spend some time with my man.”

  His lopsided grin appears as he starts to pour the chips into the bowl, and I can’t stop myself from reaching up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Have I told you lately that I’m really glad you moved back here?”