Just One Kiss (11 page)

“Hey,” he whispers back.

Slowly, I start to remember what happened yesterday, little
bits and pieces coming to me rapidly.

“Thanks for the soup,” I grumble, burying my face in my
pillow.

I feel Brayden’s chuckle as it shakes the bed. “Anytime.”

I look at my clock and my eyes bulge when I see that it’s
four. Seeing as it’s pretty light in my bedroom, I don’t think it’s in the
morning. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask.

“About twenty hours. That’s not including the five minutes
total it’s taken for you to swallow your pills or go to the bathroom. Those
hardly count since you slept through them,” he says with a smirk.

I feel myself blushing. “Bathroom?”

“Yeah, well, I’d carry you there and your mom would help you
with the rest, then I’d carry you back,” he explained casually.

“Oh god,” I groan, hating myself for being such a heavy
sleeper. “Have you been here that entire time?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, I took the day off work.”

“Brayden! Don’t get me wrong, that’s the sweetest thing
ever, but you shouldn’t have done that. Plus, I’m contagious. You could be
getting strep as we speak,” I grumble.

“Calm down, Hon,” he says, brushing hair off my forehead. “Hmm,
you’re still kind of warm. Do you want anything to drink or eat?” he asks,
sneakily distracting me from my argument.

I shake my head, not wanting him to do anything else for me.
He gives me a knowing look and hops off the bed. Within five minutes, he’s back
with some tea and a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Once again, Brayden feeds me,
despite my protests.

“I’m not a toddler!” I moan.

“I know that,” he says simply before dipping the spoon in
the bowl and moving it toward my lips. I sigh and open my mouth, figuring it’ll
be easiest if I don’t fight. He might start making airplane noises.

“Good girl,” he says teasingly. I shoot him a glare and
watch as his smirk grows.

After a few bites, I begin yawning. “Is it weird that I’m
tired again?” I ask, taking another bite.

“No, not really,” he answers. “I think this is mostly a
mixture of exhaustion before getting sick and fatigue from actually being ill. When
I called and you snapped at me, I could tell that you needed some sleep.”

I bite my lip, still feeling bad about speaking to him like
that. “I’m really sorry about that. I was just taking my frustrations out on
you. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

“Don’t worry about it. I mean, I finally got to sleep with
you, didn’t I?” I gasp and slap his shoulder.

“Brayden!”

“Anna!” he gasps back, grinning.

“Don’t make it sound so dirty!” I demand.

“You’re the one who took it there. Maybe it’s just what you
really want . . .” he trails off, waggling his eyebrows at me
with playful curiosity.

“No, shut up,” I huff, looking down at my hands.

He laughs at me and offers me the cup of tea. Once I’ve
finished drinking it, I move back down the bed until I’m lying down again. Brayden
sets the tray aside and lies down too. Naturally, I rest my head on his chest, a
position I’m fairly certain I’ve spent the majority of the past day in.

“So, what have you been doing for the past day?” I ask.

“Well, your mom and I have been talking a lot. I think she
likes me,” he says, grinning widely.

“Shock me,” I say sarcastically. “Everybody likes you.”

“Not true,” he says, shaking his head. “You didn’t like me
at first, I could tell.”

I bite my lip but can’t stop grinning. “I liked you more
than you probably realize. That’s why I tried to avoid you. Whenever I see
somebody attractive, I avoid them at all costs. I figure that eye contact would
let them know what I’m thinking,” I admit, blushing.

“You dog!” he says playfully, sounding like a woman who’d
just heard the latest scandal. “To think, all this time I’ve been chasing you,
and you wanted me all along.” He shakes his head. “Can’t say I’m surprised,
though.”

I slap his chest. “Okay, first, I didn’t want you like that.
I just found you attractive. There are plenty of people that I’ve seen who got
the same reaction, even worse,” I tell him adamantly. Before I can continue to
my second point, he interrupts.

“Yeah? Who?” I can’t tell if I sense doubt or jealousy.

I blush and smile impishly. “Well, there was this one guy at
the Dairy Queen drive-through window. I totally saw him before I pulled up and
he was so hot, I swear to god, I’m still trying not to giggle over it.” The giddy
tone in my voice helps prove it. “He had tattoos and piercings and, Lena later
told me, bright green eyes and a gorgeous smile. But when I drove up to him, I
wouldn’t look at him, even when I handed over the money. He must have thought I
was the rudest person in the world, but I couldn’t help it! He was just so sexy,”
I explain, still blushing about it.

When I look back up at Brayden, he’s got a half-amused, half-irritated
look on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask, thinking he’d be laughing with me.

“Was he hotter than me?” As soon as the words leave his
mouth, my giggles burst free. Jealousy.

“I can’t really compare you two,” I assure him once I’ve
controlled myself.

“Why not?” he pouts.

“Because you’re completely different.”

“So?”

“So, each of you brings something different to the equation,”
I say.

“Like what?” He’s apparently determined to know.

“Well, for one, I’ve always been a sucker for tattoos and
piercings. I swear, a sleeve tattoo is the sexiest thing a guy can have. Plus,
I love green eyes. They seem so exotic. But that’s all I know about him. Then
there’s you. You’re completely gorgeous in a different way, and beautiful too. You’ve
got your tanned skin, even though it’s November. Your smile constantly makes my
knees weak, though I think you do that on purpose. I love the hats you wear,
and I love how your hair flips out at the ends when you’re not wearing one. You
make me laugh too. I’ve never been this happy before. You’re the sweetest
person I know and you make me feel so special all the time. You’ve got an
amazing family who are so loving to everybody they meet. You kiss me like it’s
the one thing you were put on earth to do. And, you’ve got a real job. Tattoo
guy works at a fast food chain. Nothing says unattractive like an adult working
behind the counter at a restaurant.”

“You really think all that stuff about me?” he asks softly.

I smile and nod, feeling a light blush come to my cheeks. “Absolutely.
You’re the best person I know, Brayden. He may have one or two things I like,
but you have so much more. That’s why it was never a competition.”

He leans down and is about to kiss me when I move my head
aside, placing my lips on his cheek. “I’m sick,” I whisper.

I feel him smile and shake his head before pulling back and
meeting my lips with his. It’s not a deep kiss, but his soft lips stay on mine
for what feels like an eternity. How can one kiss, one very simple kiss, make
me feel like my whole head is clouded with shooting stars?

When he pulls away far too soon, I grin up at him and say,
“You should go eat a bag of chips or something while you can still enjoy them.”

He chuckles and pulls me back into another kiss.

***

It’s about a week after our kisses and I’m now returning the
favor to Brayden and trying not to say “I told you so.” It’s the day before
Thanksgiving, so I have the day off from school. Brayden came down with a “cold”
on Sunday, and now it’s strep throat. Let me tell you something: Brayden, while
sick, is a big freaking child.

“Annie, I want soup!” he cries out, knowing full well that I’m
walking down the hall with his lunch.

“I know, Brayden. It’s only the fifth time you’ve mentioned
it,” I deadpan sarcastically, walking into his room with the tray.

He grins sheepishly from where he’s sat up in bed. His hair
is sticking up at all ends and his nose is red and puffy. His eyes look droopy
too, yet there’s still that smirk on his face.

“Thanks,” he rasps as I set the tray on his lap and sit down
next to him. He opens his mouth expectantly and I have to laugh. Apparently
it’s my turn.

We slowly empty the bowl and by the time we’re finished,
Brayden is getting sleepier and sleepier. “Anna?” he whispers as he lays back
down.

“Hmm?” I ask as I move the tray onto his dresser.

“Thanks for being here,” he says as I slide in next to him,
happily allowing his head to rest on my chest and his arms to circle my waist. Since
he’s sick, I’m not too concerned about him feeling up my flab.

“Of course,” I whisper, placing a kiss on his forehead. I’ve
still got a small cough, sniffles, and a hint of a sore throat, but I’m much
better than I was. Poor Brayden got infected because of me, but it was his own
choice. I warned him enough times.

After spending the day taking care of a sick Brayden, I’m
definitely sympathetic toward his mother, who took care of him for the past two
days and his entire life before that. How did she deal with him? Every second,
it’s: “Can I have a glass of water?”; “Will you grab me the sweater from my
closet? No, not that one, dig further”; “I’m warm, will you get me a lighter
blanket?”; “I want soup!” Although, it does make sense now that Brayden was so
doting while he was taking care of me. It’s how he’s treated when he’s ill.

At my house, both of my parents have worked full time jobs
since I was around seven, when my mom went back to work. Until we were around
thirteen, Mom would take the day off if we stayed home sick, but eventually
that stopped. I’ve grown accustomed to making my own soup, driving myself to
doctors’ appointments, picking up prescriptions, waking myself up to take
medicine, and getting my own extra layers when I’m cold. Having Brayden do all
of that for me was definitely weird.

Once I’m positive he’s heavily asleep, I slowly slip from
his grasp and head to the kitchen, where Adrienne is sitting, drinking some
coffee. “He’s asleep,” I say, smiling.

She smiles and nods with relief, clearly still a doting parent
despite her son’s age. I sit down beside her and we chat for a bit. “So, are
you looking forward to Thanksgiving?” she asks.

As we speak, she’s got pies baking in the oven. My mother
apparently invited Brayden to spend the holiday with us while I was asleep, and
he accepted.

I shrug. “I’m a bit nervous, actually.”

She gives me a concerned look. “Why’s that?”

I bite my lip. “I think they all mean well, but my family
isn’t quite as accepting as you guys are.”

I watch as her frown deepens. “How so?”

“Well, for starters, they’re all shocked that somebody as
attractive as Brayden is with me. I’m worried that they’re going to mention it
while he’s there. I don’t know if you know this, but he gets very defensive for
me sometimes. I appreciate it, but I’m not so sure my family will.”

“Why are they so shocked?” she asks, clearly confused.

I blush. “Well, beyond the obvious of my body type, I’ve
always been pretty dull. I think they just expected somebody who matched that.”

She sighs and sets her coffee mug down. “You have one of
those families, don’t you?”

“What kind of family?”

“The kind where, because you managed to get a gene from some
ancestor nobody can remember, you’re the oddball. Your curves are not you being
overweight, Anna. Trust me, I was a physician before I quit to look after the
kids. Your body type requires the extra weight. It’s not even extra weight. The
hips you’ve been blessed with will make childbearing much easier for you. Being
stick thin with no curves does not make somebody beautiful. It just makes you
colder in the winter. I think that your extra flares give you a very feminine
edge, one that drives men crazy. I’m sure you weren’t paying any attention, but
there were plenty of eyes on you at the banquet. Nearly all of them
appreciative,” She assures me sincerely.

My eyes are wide and my jaw is dropped by the time she
finishes. I don’t even have a response. Could it be true? I’ve always heard the
term “childbearing hips,” but I never really figured I had them. Did my hips
and chest really make me look feminine instead of frumpy? I couldn’t help but
blush at the thought of men finding me attractive. It seemed off to me.

“That’s hard for me to believe,” I admit.

Adrienne grins. “I’m sure it is. However, with Evie and I
working together, you should feel beautiful in no time. Not to mention, I’m
sure my son probably tries to dry hump your leg every time he looks at you.”

My jaw drops and I burst out laughing, thoroughly
embarrassed. She laughs with me. “I may be old, but I’m not blind!”

“You’re not old, Adrienne,” I deny, once I’ve finished
laughing.

She rolls her eyes. “First, sure I am. Second, call me Ade. It’s
what everybody else calls me.” I grin and agree.

We talk for the rest of the afternoon until Brayden comes
stumbling in. “Morning,” he mumbles.

I smirk and look at his rumpled pajamas before glancing at
the clock. “Yes, at four o’clock in the afternoon, it is a good morning.”

He gently pulls me until I’m standing. I look at him with a
confused expression as he moves forward and sits in my seat. Before I can
argue, he simply pulls me down onto him so I sit sideways on his lap. He wraps
his arms around my waist. I’m in such an amazing mood that I don’t bother
protesting and just rest my head on his shoulder while my outside hand lays on
his arm.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask, glancing up at the profile of
his face.

He peers down at me and grins. “Best sleep I’ve had in a
long time. Must have been whom I fell asleep beside.”

I blush a little and glance at Ade, who’s smiling widely at
us. “You two are just such an adorable couple,” she gushes.

We laugh and I shrug my shoulder, blushing a bit, before
looking up at Brayden. “Are we adorable?” I ask playfully.