Brandon’s face morphed from shocked to sympathetic. “Oh. That’s a terrible thing for a kid to go through. I’m glad she’s feeling better, though.”
I nodded. “I left as soon as her dad showed up. Didn’t want to intrude.”
He smiled a little. “I’m sure they were all glad you could be there for as long as you were.”
I hoped so.
I wasn’t exactly looking for some grand ‘thank you’ or anything like that. But just some kind of memo that I hadn’t overstepped any boundaries and gotten myself in the middle oftheir family. That was the last thing I wanted to come across as doing.
In the future, I hoped Ryan grew to be less paranoid around me, because in a perfect world we’d all get along and could stand being in the same room together without some weird tension brewing between us.
“Where were you coming from?” I asked.
“Oh.” His brows pulled together. “It’s... a long story. Want to come in?”
Fuck yes, I did.
Not trusting myself to not make a fool out of me, I simply nodded and stepped back as Brandon fished his house keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the door to open it. A warm aroma greeted us as we both stepped inside, enveloping me like a gentle hug.
Brandon swung the door shut and locked it, eyeing me as he slipped off his shoes and hooked his keys back on the hook next to the door. I did the same, minus the keys, and watched him carefully. I’d never felt so needy in my life, wanting to touch another person.
Perhaps this was all remnants of our phone sex, or maybe I was becoming addicted to him in general. Either way, it felt fucking unhealthy and way too intoxicating not to lean into.
“I missed you,” I mumbled.
I hadn’t meant to say that, not so soon into him inviting me in, but the words were practically burning my tongue.
Brandon’s eyes widened slightly and then grew soft. “I missed you, too, Avery.”
Oh fuck it.
I reached out and cupped his face with my hands, used the leverage to back him up against the wall where I pinned him with my body. A soft sound escaped past his lips, drawing me inuntil all I could do to fight the urge to kiss him was to stop short of pressing my mouth to his.
Brandon bridged the gap between us anyway, tilting his head forward in my hold to slot his lips over mine in a chaste kiss. It was fucking perfect and not enough all at the same time. I’d been wanting this for so long and yet, now that he was right here with me, his mouth against mine, I needed it all.
My grip on his jaw tightened while I tilted his head back further to deepen our kiss. His lips parted with a short gasp, giving me the perfect opportunity to slip my tongue past and dive into his mouth.
He tasted slightly of something sweet and a bit bitter—coffee that he’d brewed right before he came home from the shop, most likely. I swiped my tongue against his, tasting more of that bitter flavor that had me rocking my hips into his.
Brandon jolted against me, his hands coming out to grab at my shirt—the one I was still wearing from our sort-of-date—and held it tightly in his hands. He drew me in closer until we were practically melded together. Our chests rising and falling in sync while I kept my hips locked against his.
My cock was growing so hard that it ached. With just a simple kiss I was ready to explode.
What the hell was Brandon doing to me?
I just about groaned when our kiss was ended entirely too quickly in my opinion. He wretched his head back from me with a soft ‘pop’ of our lips, a trail of spit lingering between us that I swiped my tongue at to break.
His throat bobbed twice before he said, “Bedroom.”
There was no hesitation in his voice. No sense of shy or bashfulness that I’d grown accustomed to associating with Brandon. He was taking charge and I was going to let him. I’d follow his lead to wherever the hell he was taking us and I wouldn’t complain one bit.
With one hand still fisted in my shirt, he dragged me down the hallway and to his bedroom—a room I blearily remembered from him taking me back here the night I’d showed up wasted at his shop. When he let go of me, he moved across the room to where there was a pile of clothes thrown over the bed and a few pairs of pants haphazardly stacked next to them.
He gathered them quickly, tossing everything onto the floor in a heap at the foot of his bed.
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Bit of a wardrobe mishap?”
He shot me a look over his shoulder. “I’m not one for fashion. But I think we both knew that.”
