The Fine Art of Pretending (39 page)

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he answers back, the right side of his mouth kicking up. “Got off early, I see?”

I narrow my eyes and study him, taking note of his spreading smile, twinkling eyes, and finally the wink he adds. My jaw drops. “You?
You
had Gabi get me out of work early?”

Brandon nods. “Guilty as charged.” He glides his hands up my arms and along my shoulders, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I was too impatient to wait.”

Fear and desire mingle in my stomach as his fingers continue massaging my neck. My eyelashes flutter as he plays with my hair, and I widen them, trying to gain a clue to what it is he has to say. Good or bad, as I stare into his eyes and feel his magical fingers, I make a decision. I’m not letting him walk away again without knowing how much I love him. Our friendship made it through one confession; maybe it can make it through another. But even if it can’t, after everything I’ve been through with Operation Sex Appeal, I owe it to myself to take a chance. Brandon is worth it.

But I’ll let him go first.

“Whatever it is, Brandon, you can tell me.”

He takes a deep breath, hands clenching around my neck. “Aly…” The pain in that one word hits me, and instinctively I clasp my hands around his forearms. “I’ve
missed
you.”

Hope, pure and simple, springs to life in my chest, and I close my eyes at the sensation.

“I miss calling you,” he says, and I open them again. “I miss hearing you tell me about every single minute detail of your day. I miss shooting hoops behind your house and playing endless hours of video games. I miss tasting your dessert concoctions and playing board games with your family. I miss studying together and laughing with you and having you call me on my stupid shit.”

His breathing spikes, and it’s like a storm has been unleashed. Emotions flash and gather in his eyes, turning the grass-green shade to jade. I open my mouth to tell him just how badly I’ve missed him too, but he shakes his head. He gently slides his thumb across my lips, and they burn with the memory of his.

Brandon swallows so hard I can hear it. “I miss holding you in my arms,” he says, his voice noticeably rougher than before. “And even though I only got to do it once…” His eyes flick to mine before returning to my lips. “I miss kissing you. I dream about it, Aly, and I’m at the point where I might just go insane if I can’t do it again.”

My veins ignite at the image of being in his arms. A bubbling feeling bursts throughout my body as he continues his light caresses on my face, and I struggle to hear my thoughts over the roar in my ears. All I want to do is replay his words over and over, but I know he’s waiting, needing to hear that I feel the same way.

“Brandon, you don’t know what these last few weeks have been like for me. It didn’t just feel like I lost my best friend—it felt like I lost a part of myself.” My eyes close briefly at the truth of my words, and I draw a breath, gaining strength for the rest of my confession. “Three years ago, I had a massive crush on you. For the sake of our friendship, I convinced myself I was over it, over you, and I honestly thought I was. But being with you? Pretending we were more and watching you pretend to care about me like
that
? God, Brandon, it was torture.”

His forehead crinkles, misunderstanding what I’m saying, and I clutch his arms so tight my nails embed in his skin. “That trivial crush I had in the beginning? Brandon, that was nothing compared to how I feel now.”

He stills completely. Not even his chest moves for a breath as he asks, “And how’s that?”

My legs start to shake, and my heart pounds so fast I fear it’s about to jump out and make an appearance.
Here goes nothing
. “I’m in love with you.”

In the wake of my speech, time seems to stop. Brandon has yet to come back to life, still frozen all statue-like, and I wonder if I went too far. Missing someone and wanting to kiss them again is
not
the same as professing love. But it’s the truth of how I feel and I’m tired of pretending otherwise. I want him to know.

I release a breath, and as it hits his face, Brandon thaws. His shoulders relax, and a broad smile breaks across his beautiful face as he says, “I wanted to be the one to say it first.” He yanks me against his chest, cradling my head in his hands so reverently it’s as though I’m made of glass. The gentleness and the meaning behind his words bring tears to my eyes. “I had this whole thing prepared, but then I got selfish. I wanted to hear you say it. But God…” He leans down and presses his lips to the crown on my head once, twice, three times. “I love you, too. So damn much.”

Holy cannoli
.

Those gathered tears spring out of my eyes. I can’t help it. They wet the cotton of his shirt as he tightens his hold around me, and I wish with everything in me that I could pause this moment. Memorize it. The sound of his voice, the way his body feels against mine, the distant sounds of cars on the interstate, and even the not-so-distant smell of the Dumpster. Right now, all of it is so
perfect
it almost hurts.

Brandon loves me.

He freaking loves me!

He places a knuckle beneath my chin and tilts it up. “I was so scared that admitting it would ruin everything. That I’d scare you away or lose your friendship, and you’re too important to let that happen. But not telling you, not admitting it even to myself? It destroyed me. I was angry all the time, jealous and hurt.” Brandon’s eyebrows scrunch at the memory of the last few weeks apart, and I lay my hand against his cheek to comfort him. Under my touch, his tension eases, and with a slight shake of his head, his mouth kicks up. “I’m just no good without you, Aly.”

A feeling of floating spreads throughout my body, and I laugh aloud. I wrap my arms around his waist, knowing the moment can’t get any better.

“Aly?” The words rumble in his chest, and I look up into his kind, sexy green eyes. “There was one question I wanted to ask you.” The smile he bites off belies his affected nervousness, and I wait with curious expectation. “Would you go to Homecoming with me?”

Laughing again, I smash my mouth against his. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes,” I answer dramatically, leaning back as giddy joy surges through every pore.

Brandon doesn’t laugh though. His eyes darken again, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. My laughter dies as I remember sucking on that lip, and this time it’s my turn to forget to breathe as my gaze darts between his mouth and eyes. Anticipation skims over my skin, causing it to prickle.

“No offense,” he says, the rough sound causing my stomach to flip. “But I’ve waited entirely too long to kiss you again, and that simply didn’t do the memory justice.”

Brandon slides off the hood and grasps my waist, lifting and placing me on the car instead. His palms push my knees apart, and he presses his body between them to get closer, but not close enough. Threading his fingers into my hair, he turns my face toward him, and I meet his gaze briefly before my eyes flutter shut, feeling his warm breath fan across my face.

If he doesn’t kiss me soon, it’s quite possible I’ll explode.

Then I feel it—the heat of his mouth hovering just above mine. I tremble, held in what seems like an eternity in the moment of
before
. Before our friendship changes forever. Before our real relationship begins. Then, finally, the sliver of distance between our lips closes.

Our last kiss was hesitant before our instincts had taken over. Not this one. This time when Brandon kisses me, it begins as a gentle brush, but it feels like savoring rather than uncertainty.

His mouth caresses mine, nibbling and sucking. His tongue darts out for a taste before coaxing my lips apart. When he deepens the kiss, my body becomes liquid fire, and I’m grateful for the car’s support below me. I wrap my legs around his waist and devour the taste of his mint-flavored gum, fisting my hands in his shirt and tugging him even closer. Brandon growls with approval.

Cool fingers glide across my cheek as he rains light kisses across my jawbone from earlobe to chin. My head falls back and tingles dance down my spine. Scratch that—my body is one
giant
tingle. When his mouth meets mine again, a moan escapes my throat. It’s loud and I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I just want more.

Lifting my heavy eyelids, I sneak a peek and a thrill courses through me. I’m kissing Brandon. This is real, this is happening. And it’s blowing every memory of our first kiss out of the water. Smiling against his mouth, I lose myself in his lips, his heavenly scent, and his strong arms.

A whimper escapes my throat as he lifts his head, the sliding and lingering of his dazed eyes as much a caress as those of his fingers and mouth. “I love you, Aly,” he says again, the surprise, joy, and tenderness in his voice enough to make my head fuzzy all over again. “So much, it hurts knowing we could’ve been doing this all along.”

He laughs, the sound deep and rich, and I sigh as I grasp his chin between my fingers, bringing his mouth back where it belongs. “Then let’s start making up for lost time, shall we?”

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 2ND

Homecoming

ALY
TIMBERLAKE COUNTRY CLUB, 7:30 p.m
.

Brandon’s
truck rumbles below me, and my hand shoots out to stop him from turning off the engine. Frowning, he turns, the fabric of his dress pants softly hissing on the leather seat. “What’s wrong?”

“Just give me a moment.”

The night I’ve been counting down to for fifty-seven days is finally here. I have on a beautiful dress, my hair is in a complicated up-do I will never be able to recreate, and I am in love. Even more unbelievable, Brandon loves me, too. At this moment, everything is perfect. The moment I step out of the truck and into the dimly lit ballroom of the country club, it could all change.

Brandon scoots next to me on the bench seat and nuzzles my neck. “I’d be perfectly happy staying in the truck all night. The way you look in this dress, I’m not sure I want to share you.”

Chill bumps dance down my arm, and I tilt my head to give him better access.

“But first, we need to get photographic evidence,” he continues, his breath warm against my ear. His tongue darts out for a lick before nibbling gently. Moaning, I let my body go limp in his arms. Brandon whispers, his voice a sexy promise, “We’ll run inside, take the picture, then come right back here and pick up where we left off.”

My eyes close as his mouth traces a path from my ear, across my jaw, to my eagerly waiting lips. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve kissed since that night in the parking lot, but it isn’t enough. After a few blissful moments, I pull back reluctantly.

Sighing against his mouth, I mumble, “Let’s go get that picture then.”

He flashes a grin, and it’s all I can do to shove his shoulder away.

“Go,” I say, running my hand along the back of my hair and reaching into the glove compartment for my compact. “I need this picture for my wall, and if you keep looking at me like that, we’ll never go in!”

Brandon rounds the truck to let me out the passenger side, his laughter floating through the open window. I reapply my lipstick, snap the compact closed, and hold my hand out so he can help me down.