Just One Kiss (6 page)

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Authors: Amelia Whitmore

BOOK: Just One Kiss
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“Hey, you guys ready to go?” he asks casually.

“Go where?” we echo simultaneously.

“We’re heading over to my apartment for some pizza and
movies,” Carlos informs us. He lives in an apartment with a roommate who’s
apparently never home.

“You and Ro will have so much fun!” I gush proudly,
specifically trying to impress upon him that he was not getting out of this.

For, like, the fourth time tonight, an eyebrow is raised at
me. “You’re coming too,” he states flatly.

“No,” I respond, using the same tone.

“Anna,” Ro uses her warning voice.

“Aurora,” I warn back. I just want to go home.

“Come on, Cutie. Be a good girl so I won’t have to carry you
there,” Brayden says, trying to lighten the mood. He makes me scoff.

“Like you could.” Apparently, he takes that as a challenge,
because one second he’s standing across the room from me and the next he’s
charging in my direction.

I scream like a little girl and run behind Chance, wrapping
my arms around his waist. He’s laughing too hard to be any help as a guard, the
butthead.

I didn’t realize how strong Brayden truly was until he
picked me up. I mean, he doesn’t look like he could lift a small whale like me,
and yet here I am in his arms. And he’s fine! I’m fine. He didn’t drop me and
he’s not broken or anything. Maybe he has steel under his skin like a robot.
Just to check, I poke his arm and then immediately feel like a weirdo for doing
so without an explanation.

“You should, uhh, put me down now,” I say softly. The last
thing I wanted was for Brayden to know how much I weighed. How embarrassing. Oh
well, it’s done now, and I hope I know him well enough to know that he’ll never
mention what a cow I am. His arms seem to tighten for just an instant before he
sets my feet on the floor. I quickly fix my shirt and straighten my cardigan.
It’s really kind of shocking that I’m not more humiliated about this. I’m still
a little uncomfortable with being picked up like a rag doll, but not nearly as
much as I’d expect.

“So, you ready?” Brayden asks, clapping his hands together.
This effectively ends the awkward silence and we all bustle to finish cleaning
up. After that little scene, I had kind of forgotten that I never wanted to
hang out in the first place. Maybe that was the point of it. It’s okay though,
I guess I could use some buddy time.

Ro and I drove to work together. I had to pick her up this
morning so her mother could use their car. Brayden and I use this to force Ro
into Carlos’s car while we take mine to his house. The drive’s not far and other
than a few rude comments about my driving, Brayden and I sit quietly. When I
pull up to a spot where I need to parallel park, I get out and make Brayden do
it. I’m pretty sure he’s too busy laughing at my poor driving skills to mind.

“Stop laughing at me!” I protest, trying to fight my own
smile.

“It’s okay, Cutie,” he says as he wraps his arm around my
shoulders. “It’s adorable.”

I wrinkle my nose. “It’s not adorable Brayden,” I tell him.
“If I wanted to, I could’ve done it.” If I’m being honest, I’m only half-sure
about that.

“Okay,” he says in a complacent tone, letting me know I
haven’t really won. I sigh and decide to let it be; it’s not really worth
getting worked up over. “I’m a good driver,” I grumble anyway.

“Yes you are,” he says, using the same tone as before.

“Brayden!” I laugh and start pinching his side.

A wicked grin takes over his gorgeous face. “Oh, you want to
start this again?”

My eyes widen as I remember last night and his tickle
torture. “No! No.” I back away, hands raised in defense, shaking my head in
horror.

“Oh yeah? Who’s the man?” He smirks cockily.

I roll my eyes. “Only because you cheated.”

“Excuse me?” He sounds so insulted that I have to laugh.

“Everybody knows that tickling is not a fair fight.”

“It is too!” he exclaims.

“Okay, Brayden,” I say, reaching up to pat him on the head.

His eyes narrow as the elevator doors open. For some reason,
Brayden’s arm is wrapped back around my shoulders, and I’m actually really
liking it.

Since I’ve never been to Carlos’s apartment, I let Brayden
lead the way. It’s a bit of a surprise how nice the place is. It’s quaint, but
that’s to be expected for two college guys on a budget. The walls are all white
and the furniture was probably the cheapest they could find, but I love it
immediately. There are pictures of their families on the walls and a few plants
in the corners. There’s a coffee table covered with sports magazines and coffee
stains. The rest of the home is completely clean, giving it a perfectly
imperfect feel.

“Wow, nice place,” I compliment Carlos. He shrugs as though
it’s nothing.

“Hopefully I’ll be able to move out soon, get something
bigger,” he says.

A couple of hours into hanging out, we all start playing an
intense game of Texas Hold’em. I surprise myself when I win. It’s not because
of any specific strategy or skill, or even luck—I just figure that since we’re
only playing with plastic chips, it doesn’t hurt to keep betting. The trick is
to actually have a really good hand every once in a while. After I win the
entire pot once and Carlos wins twice, Ro’s stomach is growling too loudly to
be ignored.

“I’m really sorry I don’t have any food,” Carlos apologizes
for the tenth time.

“How about Brayden and I go get some pizza,” I offer,
sending Ro a pointed look. She nods thankfully and I stand up, yanking Brayden
out the door with me.

“Why don’t we just get delivery?” he asks me in the hallway.

I sigh. Boys. “Because they want to be alone,” I explain
patiently.

He looks confused. “Carlos didn’t say anything about that.”

I have to laugh just a bit at just how oblivious he is.
“Brayden, they’ve been making eyes at each other all night. They’re just
begging for the chance to pounce,” I waggle my eyebrows at him.

“What? Really?” he asks, looking back toward the apartment
curiously.

“I can’t believe you missed that,” I tell him as we start
walking down the street toward Domino’s.

It’s not a very long walk, only a few blocks, but it’s
really cold and I only have my cardigan on. When I start shivering, Brayden
pulls off his hoodie and hands it to me. I shake my head. There are a few
problems with taking it. The first is that he’d be cold if I wore it, which is
what I tell him as I push it back toward him. The second reason, though, is
that if I try to put it on and it doesn’t fit my curvy self, I’ll die.
Seriously, the embarrassment will literally kill me. Right here on the
sidewalk.

“Anna, wear the sweatshirt,” he says in a serious tone that’s
unusual for him. I suppress another shiver, though I’m not sure if it’s from
the cold or his voice.

“No, thank you, really,” I murmur, trying to keep my teeth
from chattering.

“Anna,” he says sternly.

“Brayden,” I sigh back.

“You won’t wear my hoodie but you’ll cuddle up to Chance
like he’s a big teddy bear?” he growls, sounding irritated. That surprises me
and I stop walking.

“What does Chance have to do with anything?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he grumbles, walking ahead.

“Brayden!” I call out.

He turns to me and holds out his hands, “Anna, I just don’t
understand you sometimes. That’s all.” His tone is different now; less
frustrated, but sadder.

I bite the inside of my cheek and walk up to him.

“If this doesn’t fit and I start bawling like a little baby,
know that you’re the only one to blame and you owe me something pretty,” I
grouch before snatching the hoodie and pulling it over my head. To my sincere
relief, it fits. It’s even a bit loose; not as loose as most guy’s sweaters
would be on girls, but loose enough to make me happy. And it’s warm and even
smells like him. Wow, I’m such a stalker.

His expression is unreadable when I look back up at him.
“That’s the reason you didn’t want it?” he asks me, eyes piercing mine.

I feel myself blushing and I nod.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Anna, what am
I going to do with you?” And then he pulls me to his chest for a hug.

Chapter Eight

Confessions

Brayden and I walk home with two large pizzas for the four
of us, the earlier awkwardness nearly forgotten. He carries them, trying to be
chivalrous, apparently. I think he’s just trying to keep warm since I jacked
his hoodie. I’ve offered to give it back multiple times but he keeps refusing.

I make sure to knock on the apartment door. Brayden gets a
disappointed look on his face. I figure it means that he knows something kinky
may be happening and, by knocking, he won’t be catching a glance.

After a few moments, I open the door and look around warily,
not wanting the relatively clean image of my best friend to be dirtied by
things that can’t be unseen. Luckily, Carlos and Aurora are sitting on the
couch, both looking a bit ruffled, but neither are indecent. I take the huge
smiles on their faces to mean they’ve finally made out.

“So, have you two confessed your undying love for each
other, then?” I ask with a smirk.

Ro actually blushes, which makes me laugh. Carlos wraps a
lazy arm around her shoulders as they walk to the table.

“Indeed, Anna. We were just beginning to get hot and heavy on
the couch when we were so rudely interrupted, if you must know,” he says,
winking at me.

My nose wrinkles and, before I can stop myself, my poor mind
innocently imagines what they could’ve been doing. That’s always been a problem
for me—my imagination takes off before I can control it. “That’s icky,” I
complain, sounding like a child. Apparently this is funny because all three of
them begin laughing at me. “Hey! I brought food!” I protest in my own defense.

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head with a smile on my face,
not really minding that they’re teasing me. It’s nice to have friends that you
don’t need to question yourself around. Well, until Brayden starts picking me
up or telling me I’m pretty . . . But other than that, I’m
really quite comfortable. It shocks me how easy it is to be around Brayden and
the people at Starbucks. For the past couple of years, I’ve been hiding the
person I truly am inside. Now, it’s like there’s nothing holding me back and I
can finally be accepted; not just by them, but by myself too. Maybe all I
needed was to be around the right people to finally open up.

For the next two hours, we all hang out and laugh together.
But when I realize how late it’s gotten, I start saying my good-byes. “Guys, I
really should go now. I work tomorrow morning,” I say with a sad smile.

“Aww!” Ro complains loudly.

“You don’t need to leave with me,” I suggest, wiggling my
eyebrows at her.

“Annie!” She screeches, though her wide smile tells me she’s
actually totally intrigued by the idea.

“You should stay,” Carlos winks at her.

“What?” She seems surprised. Ro may appear pretty badass but
she’s not the kind of girl to sleep with somebody right away. She’s very
serious about sex, actually, since her mother got pregnant with her when she
was sixteen. Ro knows firsthand what can happen with an unexpected, and
unwanted, pregnancy.

“Not for that!” Carlos says, chuckling. “I’m just not ready
to say good-bye,” he whispers sweetly to her. I have to contain the “aww” that
wants to escape my mouth. “I’ll even sleep on the couch and you can have the
bed.”

“Okay.” Ro’s grinning like a lunatic, clearly thrilled that
she’s found a gentleman.

Bringing us back to the point, I say, “All right, well I’m
going to head out now.”

“Would you be willing to give me a ride home?” Brayden asks,
sending me an apologetic smile. “It seems that Carlos forgot that I was
supposed to get the couch tonight.” He sends a fake glare in the happy couple’s
direction. “And I’d rather not share it with him.”

I laugh and nod. We walk down to my car and I toss Brayden
my keys. He looks at me questioningly.

“I hate driving if I don’t have to. Just don’t crash my car,”
I explain.

He laughs and climbs in the driver’s seat. After a few
minutes of driving, he twists his head to look at me. “What?” I ask with a
smile.

“I have a question,” he begins.

“Okay . . .” I say warily.

“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, I’m just
wondering,” he rambles nervously.

“Just ask,” I sigh.

He pauses for a moment. “Did something happen to you? I
mean, you just seem way too self-conscious for something to not have. Like when
I called you cute and you stopped talking to me, or today when I picked you up,
and tried giving you my hoodie. You know what? Never mind, I shouldn’t have
asked.” He’s talking so fast that I can barely understand him.

“It’s okay,” I assure him gently, figuring he deserves to
know. I’m just not sure I can tell him. “Something did happen. Last year,
during my senior year of high school. I haven’t been the same since.” I stop
talking, figuring that was an okay explanation. Clearly I left out the details,
but I didn’t want to trouble him with some sob story.

“Do you not want to talk about it?” he probes.

I shrug. “It’s just hard to talk about. But since you’ve
already come face-to-face with my insecurities, I don’t see why I can’t tell
you, I guess.”

What if, once he knows, he won’t be interested in me
anymore? That’s the biggest thing I’m afraid of right now. I’ve come to terms
with what happened last year. I may be suffering emotional side effects from
it, but I don’t see the point in pretending it never happened. But still . . .

“You don’t need to, that’s not why I asked,” he says
quickly, but I can hear the hint of curiosity in his voice.

I take deep breath. “Look, I—It just might seem a little
melodramatic to you, but it really hurt me when it happened, okay? So don’t
judge me.” I feel the need to pad the story, having been told by various family
members more than enough times that I was overreacting.

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