Everyone is quiet until I calm down and pull myself together, and then I feel completely silly with them all just standing there staring at me. It forces a bubble of laughter out of me.
“I guess I should go fix myself,” I say, swiping at my wet cheeks.
Brandon kisses my forehead. “You look beautiful. But you don’t want to alarm the students,” he finishes with a smile.
I look up into his eyes, so warm and filled with love. “I don’t deserve you,” I say, because it bears repeating.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, just like he says every time those words come out of my mouth.
I glance around. Everyone has dispersed to go back to their various jobs, but I’m not eager to leave Brandon’s arms. Not yet. Not before I tell him what I’ve been wanting to tell him for a while now.
“I love you,” I say, quietly, but clearly. And amazingly, the world doesn’t implode. The ceiling doesn’t come crashing in on me. Up is up and down is down. Everything is exactly as it should be.
A smile breaks out on his lips. “Well, I guess it’s confession time.”
“Confession?” Crap. This is where he tells me he thinks I’m a great girl and all, but he’s not ready to use the L word.
“Jessica Brooks, I think I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”
I swallow hard. “Really?”
He nods. “You may not have been my best friend in high school, but you were definitely the only girl who ever paid me any mind. You stuck up for me and, most importantly, helped me get down from that bathroom stall hook. I’d probably still be there if it wasn’t for you. But I do love you, Jess. If you don’t know that by now, well then, I’ll just have to keep trying to prove it to you.”
My heart swells until I think it might burst. There are no more words to say in this moment. He’s said it all. So, I just throw my arms around his neck, savor the feels of his hands on my waist and, staring at Kyle’s portrait over Brandon’s shoulder, I send up a little prayer of gratitude. I have no doubt he’s the one who sent Brandon to me. To save me.
Our first day is a huge success. Even the kids who came in all grumpy and despondent are cracking smiles as they leave the kitchen, arms leaden with take-out boxes of food for their families. I can’t believe how exhausting and rewarding it all was, and I didn’t even do any of the work. I just ate all the food, which was almost as good as when Kyle made it. And I hung out with the kids, chatting them up, getting to know them. Some of them have been through some really rough stuff—parental abuse, sibling suicide—horrifying things that no kid should have to go through. And some of them just got caught up in drugs, like Owen, who, ironically, has become a major part of Caroline’s life. I don’t know exactly to what extent, but it’s obvious they’ve got a thing for each other, despite the fact he ran her down with his truck. He’s also become instrumental in Kyle’s Kitchen, willing to pitch in whenever we ask him to. Not to mention, his parents have been some of our biggest donors. They’re clearly eager to keep Owen out of Juvie.
“Your chariot awaits, my lady,” comes a familiar voice from over my shoulder.
I turn into Brandon’s arms. “You mean your Prius?”
“Tomato, tomahto.”
I smile up at him. “Today was awesome.”
“I’m so glad you had fun.”
“It’s not just that, though. It’s knowing we’re making a difference. Doing something to help these kids.”
“It’s called having a purpose.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have one if it wasn’t for you.”
He shrugs. “You would have figured it out eventually.”
I shrug back. “Maybe. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as pleasurable,” I say, dropping my voice to a seductive tone.
Brandon growls and nuzzles into my neck, nibbling on my ear. “Wanna christen the prep area?”
I laugh. “That’s unsanitary! And besides, I much prefer a comfy bed for all the naughty things I’m going to do to you.”
“All right, that’s it!” He pulls away from our embrace and grabs me by the hand to walk me around the facility at a rapid pace. “Stoves…off. Refrigerators and freezers…shut. TV…off. Lights…out. Door…locked.”
We’re standing on the sidewalk outside now, and I’m giggling with anticipation of what’s to come.
“You—” He points to the car. “In.”
I smirk as I salute him. “Yes, sir.”
Within minutes we’re back at his house, sneaking through the front door to escape Caroline’s notice. She and Owen got a head start home, and they’re already nestled on the couch watching TV. We dart up the stairs and tiptoe to Brandon’s room. It’s a total guy room, all navy and burgundy and hunter green. I’ve never wondered why he didn’t take over the master bedroom after his parents passed away. I don’t think I would do it, either, no matter how much more space it would afford me. Some things are just sacred. I get that.
But I’m not really focused on his room right now. I’m more focused on the smooth expanse of abs and chest that stand bare before me. The way his hands work quickly at divesting me of my own clothes, and then the play of said hands across my skin as they caress every bare inch of me.
We don’t take our time tonight. Everything is frantic and desperate. I don’t always like it that way, but tonight I do. It’s been such a big, long day that I need the release, and I need it soon.
It doesn’t take long, and a mere fifteen minutes later, we’re lying sweaty and panting in each other’s arms. I look up at Brandon to see a content smile on his face. The same kind of smile I’m wearing too. I burrow into the nook of his arm and he tightens his embrace around me. We lie there for a few minutes. Everything is so perfect. I still feel like things could go wrong. Like something might happen and my world will come crumbling to the ground again. But I also know how important it is to treasure these moments, because they truly could be gone in the blink of an eye.
I feel Brandon looking at me, so I tip my head back to look at him again. “What?” I say, feeling shy under his wry gaze.
“I have something for you,” he says, stroking a piece of my hair off my forehead and tucking it behind my ear.
“Good Lord!” I tease. “Enough with the gifts already!”
“I know, I know,” he says, rolling on top of me. I love feeling the weight of him, so warm and heavy, in a good way. A very good way. But he’s not here to seduce me again. Instead, he’s reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. “Close your eyes.”
I do as I’m told, and a moment later, I feel his lips press to mine. It lingers for a moment, and then he rolls off, settling beside me again.
“Can I open them yet?”
“Almost.” He places something on my chest, and a moment later, he gently says, “Okay. You can open them now.”
Sitting on my chest is a small jewelry box. The kind meant for rings. A flutter of panic settles in my breast. Or perhaps it’s excitement. I don’t know—I can’t tell. My emotions are all at sea. If it’s what I think it is, I have no idea what I’ll say.
He must be able to read my mind—or maybe my face is readable enough—because he says, “It’s not what you think it is.”
I don’t know whether to be relieved or bummed out. “Oh,” I say, at a loss for any other words.
“Go on,” he says, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable he’s made me. “Open it up.”
I grab for the box and then push myself up to a better angle against the pillows. I hold the box in my hand for a moment, look at Brandon, and finally flip open the lid.
There are some moments that take your breath away and cause your heart to flutter and your pulse to race. And there are some moments that sneak up on you so quietly, so tenderly, so that when the tears come, they take even you by surprise.
“You don’t have to take off Kyle’s ring ever, if you don’t want to,” Brandon says, dragging me into his arms to console me as I bawl. “This is what I’m calling a Pinky Promi
se ring. You can wear it on your pinky, next to your engagement ring. It’ll let everyone know that you are doubly loved.”
It’s too much—he’s too much. But in the best way possible.
“And just to be clear,” he starts, “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet, anyway.”
I’m flooded with relief and gratitude and so much overwhelming joy that I can hardly breathe. “Well,” I finally manage through my tears, “just so I’m clear…I’ll say yes whenever you do.”
Learning to Live Page 15