Just One Kiss (10 page)

“Do you actually think that’s going to work? Because I’m not
sure that I’m ready for kisses like the one we just had.” I say doubtfully.

He shrugs. “It’s worth a try. Plus, look at it this way, we
could still send out Christmas cards as BFFs, and I won’t be the biggest
asshole in the world every time I think about kissing you. Which is a lot. But
you can be in control of what we do. If all I’m allowed to do is kiss your
cheek, I’ll only kiss your cheek,” he promises earnestly.

“Okay, but the second either of us feels like it’s more of a
relationship than just friends, or just dating, we have to tell the other. It’s
not fair to either of us if one of us is feeling more or less. Deal?”

He smirks a bit before leaning in and kissing me lightly.
Not like earlier—just a kiss to seal the deal. He nods. “Deal.”

Sick

“Friends with feelings? Are you shitting me?” Aurora yells.

We’re the only two working the counter today, since
everybody else ended up being sick. Luckily, by some miracle, it’s been the
slowest day ever.

“Language!” Jon calls from the back.

I look over at her Ro. “What’s wrong with that?”

She throws her cleaning rag down on the counter. “What, you
mean other than the fact that you now have a bona fide fuck buddy?” she yells.

Jon sticks his head around his office door. “Aurora, keep it
in check if you want to keep your job.” She rolls her eyes but mumbles her
agreement.

“It’s not like it sounds. We’re basically a committed
couple, just without the title. Brayden thinks it’ll help me with my insecurity
issues. Maybe it’s what I need to be more comfortable with a real relationship
with him,” I suggest.

“No, what you need is for that title, him claiming you as
his girlfriend, to be on a fu—freaking plaque somewhere. You need to have him
screaming from the rooftops that you’re his and he’s yours. You need somebody
to make you feel so damn special that you could melt into a puddle of happy
feelings. What you don’t need is to downplay what you two have by calling it
god damn ‘friends with feelings.’”

She keeps getting quieter as she speaks, which means she’s
getting angrier by the second. When Ro’s really upset, she gets quiet. It’s
never a good sign.

I sigh. “Ro, please just be here for me?”

I can tell that she’s biting the inside of her cheek as she
stares at me. “Fine, but I’m seriously not happy about this, Anna. You deserve more
than a cheap title. And I’m going to make sure you know it every freaking day
that this goes on,” she promises.

I nod, knowing that she means it. “Thanks,” I whisper
gruffly as the door chimes.

We look up to see Carlos, whose nose is red and puffy, and
Brayden walking in. Ro passes by Brayden to get to her boyfriend. “Jackass,” she
growls at him before making it to Carlos.

Brayden looks at me, shocked. I bite my lip. “She’s less
than thrilled about our new arrangement,” I explain.

“What’s not to be thrilled about?” he asks.

I groan, knowing he shouldn’t have asked that. Ro is like a
territorial mama bear about me sometimes.

“You’re just using my best friend and it’s sick,” Ro nearly
yells at him. I see Brayden’s eyes widen as Ro continues, “Anna deserves the fu—”
She glances toward the back and growls, “freaking world, and you telling her
that you guys could be ‘friends with feelings’ is like telling her that it’s
fine for her to be completely insecure and afraid for the rest of her life. She
needs people to push her past her comfort zone. Believe it or not, Anna’s a big
girl and can handle not being babied. I would know. And you’re just giving both
of you an easy way out. It’s crap.”

“I’m well aware that she deserves the world, but she’s not
ready to be in a committed relationship yet. I’m not going to do anything that
she doesn’t want and you better believe that every second I’m with her, I’m
going to be pushing. Pushing, but not forcing. Some people clearly don’t know
the difference,” he growls back. I move to stand between them.

“Okay, guys, enough. First, this isn’t the place to be
talking about this. Second, I can speak for myself. I don’t need you two
arguing about something that I’ve already agreed to. Ro, I know you’re only
worried for me, and I appreciate it more than you know, but I want this. Just
how it is.”

I turn to Brayden. “And Ro cares about me a lot. She doesn’t
force me into anything.” It’s probably the first time that I’m actually
irritated at Brayden for anything. I mean, I was a little bit for him not
calling last week, but this is different. He was rude to my best friend and
that’s not really okay with me.

“Sorry,” they both mumble at the same time, both probably a
little speechless at the fact that I stood up for myself for once.

“Now, Carlos needs some tea or something, and then you’re
taking him home and making sure he doesn’t leave for the rest of the day,” I
tell Brayden before turning to make them some drinks. I barely talk to him
before the guys leave. I say about ten words to Ro before we leave for the day
too. It feels really weird to be so silent around her, but I feel really grumpy
after their little spat.

Back home, I’m lying in bed, my grumpiness increasing by the
second as I can’t figure out one of the math equations on my homework. On top
of that, I’m exhausted and feel sick. I knew what I was signing up for when I
got the job, but I feel like I never sleep anymore. I’m either at school or
working and, when I’m not doing either of those, I’m with Ro or Brayden. Next
weekend is definitely going to be used for sleep.

My phone rings and I bite my lip when I see who’s calling. It’s
Brayden, but I’m not sure I want to answer. I let it go through to voicemail
and turn back to my book. Not even ten seconds later, he’s calling back. Thinking
that it might be important, I answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he asks.

I stare at the open textbook in front of me. “Fine,” I lie. “You?”

“I’m good. So, what are you doing right now?” he asks. Clearly
this is a social call.

I sigh. “Studying. Was there anything specific you called
about?” It came out a little harsher than I intended it to.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, sounding a little defensive.

“Everything’s fine,” I grumble again. “What do you want?”

“Look, I know that you’re mad at me for what I said to Ro,
and I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to talk to you right now.” His soft tone
makes me feel a little bad.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m a little irritated at you both, but
I’m not mad. On top of that, I’m horribly crabby and have a shit ton of
studying to do. I haven’t truly slept in what feels like days, and I think I’m
starting to come down with a cold. Furthermore, I’ve constantly got you in the
back of my mind, distracting me. And I need to get this done before tomorrow,”
I huff.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

I sniffle and a cough leaves my chest before I say, “No, I’m
sorry. I know how I get when I’m like this. I tend to treat the people who care
about me like shit. It’s not your fault, it’s all mine. Can I please just call
you tomorrow when I’m hopefully not as much of a bitch?”

“Sure. Talk to you later,” he mutters before hanging up on
me.

I bite my lip and close my eyes. Opening up a new text, I
send
I’m sorry. I really don’t mean to take this out on you.

A few minutes later my phone vibrates and an impersonal
No
prob.
appears on the screen. I frown but decide it’s better to get back to
work.

***

I woke up this morning with the worst sore throat I’ve ever
had in my entire life. It felt like somebody was sticking a knife in my neck, especially
when I tried to talk or drink or eat. My mom took one look down my throat and
sent me to the doctor’s office.

After having a scarily long Q-tip gag me for what felt like
ten minutes, I waited in the little room for another half an hour. As it turns
out, I’ve got strep throat. I used to get it as a child, but in kindergarten
one of my bouts turned into a staph infection. The doctors decided not to risk
it again, so once I recuperated, I got my tonsils taken out and haven’t gotten
it again since. Now I know why I don’t remember being sick when I was little; I
must have repressed the pain.

I sleep all day, only waking up once to take my medicine. Around
five o’clock, my ringing phone wakes me again. “Hello?” Between the sore throat
and sleepy voice, I sound like the walking dead

“Anna?” a worried-sounding Brayden asks.

“Hi,” I croak.

“Holy shit, Cutie, you sound awful.”

“Gee. Thanks for that,” I say sarcastically.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Kind of,” I shrug.

“Kind of?”

“Well I’m not dying, but it feels like it,” I explain, my
eyes already drooping.

“Is there anybody there taking care of you?”

“I think so.” I try to think if anybody had woken me up for
any reason.

“You think so?” He sounds doubtful.

“Why are you repeating me?” I ask groggily.

He chuckles. “Do you want me to come take care of you?”

“God no, I don’t want anybody seeing me like this,
especially you.”

He laughs. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Brayden, no,” I whine, burying my head into my pillow.

“Yup.” He sounds highly amused and completely determined.

I hang up and fall back asleep.

***

I’m nudged out of my dark abyss by somebody shaking me
lightly. “Ughhh,” I grumble, slightly confused about why it hurts so badly to
live. Then I remember that I’m sick.

“Anna . . .” A deep voice coaxes me out of my
sleep.

“Hmm?” I refuse to open eyes.

“Wake up, sweetie, I have something for you.” The hand
shaking me starts to rub my arm.

“What?” I recognize the voice, but I can’t place it. As soon
as he chuckles, I know who it is. How did Brayden get in my room?

My eyes shoot open and I look at him, shocked. “What are you
doing in here?” I ask groggily.

He smiles. “I told you I was coming to take care of you. I
meant it.”

“What? When did you tell me that?” I ask, super confused.

He looks amused. “When we were on the phone.”

I look doubtfully at my cell phone, “When?”

“About an hour ago, check the received calls if you don’t
believe me.” I shake my head and rub my eyes before sitting up and resting
against my cushioned headboard, offering Brayden an empty area to sit on my
bed.

“Nice room you got here,” he says thoughtfully, sitting in
front of me.

I nod and pull my purple crochet blanket up to my chin,
feeling cold. Brayden sees me shiver and places his cool hand on my forehead. “You’re
running a fever.” He frowns.

I shrug, checking the time. It’s time for another pill. I’m
supposed to take three a day for ten days. I take one of the horse pills and my
bottled water from my nightstand. Swallowing that pill is possibly the most
painful thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. I squeeze my eyes shut and tear
up just a little, feeling like I just tore my throat open. When I open my eyes
again, I see Brayden looking really worried for me. I give him a half smile.
“I’m fine.” He raises an eyebrow, clearly letting me know he’s calling my
bluff.

“Anyway, I brought you some broth,” he says, taking out a
Tupperware container of a clear brown liquid.

I shake my head. “No thanks.”

“You have to eat something,” he says softly.

I shake my head again. “It hurts to swallow.”

He gives me a sad smile. “I know, but for you to get better,
you need to eat something. Just a few sips is all I’m asking. It’s warm.” The
last part is said like a bribe.

I scowl. “I don’t want any.”

“Please, Annie? For me? I want to see you healthy.” The look
he gives me is so pleading that I have to nod my head at him.

“Only a couple, though,” I warn.

Smiling, he carefully opens the container and takes a spoon
out of the bag he has with him. As he dips the spoon in, I say “I’m not a
child, Bray, you don’t need to feed me.”

“I know, but I want to. Now shut up and drink this,” he says
before moving the spoon to my mouth. The soup is warm, but not too hot, and
nearly slides down my throat by itself, with minimal pain. I sigh, relieved.

“More?” he asks.

I nod, suddenly feeling like I could drink it all. After
around ten more spoonfuls, I shake my head. “That’s way more than a couple. Thank
you.”

As he’s packing the soup container back into the bag he
brought it in, I stand up. “Whoa, where are you going?” he asks, reaching out
for me like I’m about to run away.

“I have to pee,” I tell him bluntly, beyond the point of
caring if he thinks I’m girly enough or not.

In the bathroom, my reflection makes me grimace a little
bit. My messy bun is definitely messy, with hair sticking up everywhere. I’ve
still got sleep lines on my face from where my pillow’s fabric was bunched
against my skin, there are dark circles under my eyes, and my complexion is
even paler than usual. My lips look chalky and my nose is red enough to
reference Rudolph.

Sighing, I head back to my bedroom, only to see Brayden
lying on the opposite side of my bed. “What are you doing?” I ask from the
doorway.

“Come here,” he says, opening my sheets for me.

I warily climb in bed, welcoming the warmth he’s radiating. Without
thinking, I quickly snuggle up to his side, trying to absorb his heat. My head
is resting on his chest and, before I know it, I’m out like a light.

Returning the Favor

After sleeping for who knows how long, I wake up to my bed
dipping as a weight lowers onto it behind me. Groggily, I twist to see who’s
joined me and am surprised to see Brayden smiling sheepishly.

“Brayden?” I whisper.