23
BRANDON
Ipace back and forth nervously, feeling Angie’s eyes on me as I walk a new path in the frozen ground—it’s a stark reminder of what we’re doing today. With the few days between Christmas and New Year’s, Angie and I decided that today, the day after Christmas, is the day we’re telling our parents. We’ll start with hers and then end with mine. What a way to end the year, huh?
“The grounds crew will thank you for the new path,” Angie teases from where she’s leaning against my car.
The freshly fallen snow is no match for me today. “How are you so calm?”
“I’m not. I keep running through best and worst case scenarios,” Angie admits. The deep maroon sweater she’s wearing, combined with the light blonde strands of her hair, makes her blue eyes pop and enhances the blush on her cheeks from the winter air. It’s been a subtle change, but Angie started adding color to her wardrobe. I haven’t pointed it out because I don’t want my observation to scare her back to wearing all black. I love my girl in her favoritecolor, but something as simple as adding color to her wardrobe reminds me of what she said a few months ago. About me putting color back into her life—I don’t take that lightly. “But,” she continues, “it'll be easier to tell them with you by my side. At least I hope it will be.”
“Okay.” I nod. “What’s your best-case scenario?”
“Best-case scenario is that my parents are accepting.”
I give Angie a disbelieving look with scrunched eyebrows. “And worst-case scenario?”
“Worst-case is they’re not accepting and I have to move out. Because there’s no way I can happily date you and live under their roof with their disapproval hanging over me. And if that happens, I don’t know where I’ll go.”
I let out a heavy sigh and watch my breath form a white cloud in front of my face. It’s been over a little over a month since we told my brothers. To say that Sunday dinners have been a little awkward with this secret they know, which my parents are oblivious to, is an understatement.
But then I look at Angie—who fights her depression every single day—walk around with a genuine smile on her face. Of course, she still has her days when the depression battle wins and getting out of bed is a struggle when her lack of interest in everything, including me, hits her at full force. And I realize that telling the people we love is the least I can do to walk through this tough time with her.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. But if it does,” I pause and make sure my next words are clear, “you can stay with me.”
Angie shakes her head. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“You won’t,” I say when I stop in front of her. “I want you with me all the time, as obsessive as that sounds. And I know you said you had plans to move out. I totally respectyour decision to be independent. But know that the offer to live with me is open. And I’m a great roommate, I clean up after myself, and I cook.”
“Definitely a plus.” She nods, pushing herself off the hood of my car and walking to the passenger door. Before she can grab the handle, I spin her around and capture her lips with mine. Our time together has been short between the holidays. With me starting a new project and Angie working longer shifts at the bar, along with the brainstorming sessions for her piano bar with Miles, we’ve been thin on time. But when we are together, it’s bliss.
Being hers is more than I could have imagined.
Her tongue tangles with mine, and I push her back against the door, angling her head and deepening the kiss. My hands dive into her hair, weaving the blonde strands through my fingers while her hands explore my body—or as much as she can while we’re bundled in winter gear. The soft moans that float and mix with the winter wind, as I nip and suck at her bottom lip, heighten every feeling I have for her.
“I changed my mind,” Angie pants when I begin to trail kisses down her neck. “Let’s just go back to your place, pack up, and then run away, never telling our parents.”
“As tempting as that is,” I say between kisses, “our families would hunt us down.”
Angie whimpers when I nibble at the spot below her ear. The sound sends a jolt of electricity to my painfully hard cock, which is a shame because we don’t have nearly enough time to take care of each other before the sun sets.
“I don’t like when you’re right,” Angie pouts.
I smile against her neck and place one final kiss there before standing up straight. “I know.”
Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are puffy from my kisses. Angie just rolls her eyes and opens the door, sliding in and letting me close the door for her. I let out another heavy sigh and walk around to the driver’s side, sliding in and starting up the car.
“Rip the band-aid off,” Angie says.
Nodding, I put the car in drive and carefully navigate the snowy road that takes us back to Angie’s house. And instead of parking on the street like I’ve done in the past, I pull into the long driveway.
“One step forward,” Angie chants, and together we get out of the car and walk up the front steps. She uses her key to open the front door and the sound of the television in the living room greets us.
“Angie?” I hear her mom call out and my heart speeds up like the anticipation before the big drop on a roller coaster.
“Yeah,” she responds and takes her jacket off, placing it on the coat hook and waiting for me to do the same. Angie takes my hand in hers as we walk down the hallway and stop at the threshold of the living room.
“Hey, what do you think about…” Her mom’s voice trails off when she sees us. “No.”
