“Yes. We can go a little slow. Not fast, but not super slow either. You’re much older than me and I won’t lie and say that I’m not scared if the gap makes a difference. Because I don’t think it does?—”
“I’m not that much older,” he mutters under his breath.
“Ten years, but who’s counting?” I say offhandedly. “But I don’t want our families to know until we know that this is more than going behind their backs.”
“Have you always had a rebellious streak?”
“No. Actually. But I’ve always done what’s been expected of me. Go to Liam’s baseball games, stop practicing piano when asked, and go to college to get a degree. Piano is for me. But this, you and me, would be for me—us.”
During the last few minutes, we’ve unconsciously drifted toward each other. Our bodies have angled into one another, my knee knocks into his, and his right leg has caged me in. Noting that the distance between our faces has gotten smaller, I can’t help but want to kiss him.
“Tell me you’re thinking the same thing,” Brandon whispers roughly. His sunglasses are now resting on top of his head now and ever so slowly, he takes mine off. I note the clench in his jaw when our eyes lock. Lust is leading this. More than anything I’ve ever felt, lust has been leading the way in this moment. Brandon is letting me choose, and I’m a hair's breadth from closing the distance and letting that feeling win when more screaming and laughter from the group next to us breaks us apart.
“It’s getting late,” I whisper weakly, disappointing myself that I’m breaking this up.
His eyes roam over my face before he nods in agreement. “Yeah. Where did you park? I’ll walk you back.”
I cover a smile as I grab my bag off the bench next to me and take my sunglasses back from his outstretched hand. “I parked in your work's parking garage.”
He huffs out a laugh and holds his hand out for me to step back onto the path. “What a coincidence that I’m headed that way too.”
“So, if we’re going to do this friendship thing,” I say.
“Dating,” he corrects me.
“Oh, it’s moved to dating now?”
“Well, I definitely don’t want to be just your friend. Besides, my friend Carter would throw a fit if he heard I have a new friend. So, dating is the next logical step.”
I chuckle freely. “Okay, so now that we’re dating, I should know what you like to do for fun.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t get out much,” he tells me.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m a big routine follower and just doing something outside of the norm takes a bit out of me.”
We come to a crosswalk and stand off to the side, waiting for the light to give us the go-ahead.
“Okay. So if you were following your routine, what would you be doing now?”
He places his hand on my lower back as the light changes and we cross the street. “If I missed my morning workout, I’d likely be getting home from the gym and starting dinner.”
“You cook?”
“Just the basics. And I eat a lot of the same meals.”
“Routine,” I chime in.
“That and I like it. What about you? What would you be doing on a normal day?”
I hesitate with how much I want to spill. Because who spills everything on the first day? But being around Brandon, I can’t help but want to tell him everything that makes me me.
“Let’s see…I’d wake up to an empty house as my parents would already be at work or out of town. I have regularly scheduled Monday appointments with my therapist but if I need to have more sessions throughout the week she’s very accommodating. But if I’m working that evening, I’ll try to get all my studying and homework out of the way, or I’ll sit at the piano until inspiration hits. Which lately it has,” I murmur that last part and hope he didn’t hear.
Brandon doesn’t hesitate to take in all I’ve said, and I know that my admitting I’m seeing a therapist weekly probably floored him.
“How—does therapy help?” he asks hesitantly.
