Coffee Shop

• 23 •

Brian's place was huge compared to mine, but the space between the living and the kitchen wasn't big enough to run through. Still, I tried.

I ducked out from under Brian's arms as he reached to grab me and laughed as I failed to make it to the couch. Before my hands could even touch it, he grabbed me, and wrapped his arms under my arms. He pulled me back against his body.

"Wait, wait," I giggled, shaking my head, "I can't!"

"Oh?" he laughed huskily in my ear. "Can't what?"

There were times I hated being so small; this wasn't one of them. Though he held tight, I still wiggled free. I dropped to his feet and scurried across the floor. I knew he'd come after me, but I didn't think he'd do the same thing.

I heard his knees hit the floor and his hands slap in front of him as he crawled towards me. I'd made it to the other side of the couch when he grabbed my leg. At this point, I threw in my white towel. I let him turn me, pull me, and crawl over me all in one motion.

Looking up into his eyes, I turned dark red. "Brian, I—"

"I love you," he said, smiling big. The look on his face, his excited breaths, he looked like a schoolboy, so happy with the girl of his dreams. My inner cheerleader gave us a chant and danced for us.

"I love you, too," I responded, all giddy.

"Yeah?" He leaned on his elbows. "Is that why you procrastinated on breakfast to make an illegal call?"

Oh! "No," I whined, shaking my head, but with him so close, our noses touched, "I didn't."

"Then, why's there no cooked food on the counter? I thought I'd have breakfast."

"I mean—" I bit my lip as I squealed. "—I was going to, but..."

"But—" He came closer and kissed me, stopping both of our sentences.

I remembered the first time I came over, and he woke up, catching me in his kitchen, cooking him food. He'd grabbed me, kissed me, and said, "I could get used to this."

It was my turn. Being like this with him, overly cute and innocent, kissing everywhere and any way we could. I could get used to this, too.

"I know it's soon—" He spoke between kisses. "And maybe you'll say no—" He kissed my neck. "But I was thinking you could stay here more often."

Oh? I leaned my head back as he pulled the collar of the shirt I wore aside, allowing him space to kiss around my shoulders.

"You could bring whatever you wanted, decorate however you like." He stopped his kisses and looked at me.

But I didn't look at him. When he said 'decorate,' my eyes shot up to the old photo squares on his walls. I thought back to Mr. Paul at that moment, when he'd said how he'd taken down his wife's photos after her death because he couldn't handle it, only to put them back up. I wanted to help Brian cope as much as I could, help him move on, and accept. What better way than to...

"Kay?" Brian's finger went to the side of my face, turning my head so I'd look at him. "You can just say no, it won't hurt my feelings. I know this is new but—"

"No," I breathed the word and touched his cheeks, "I think I have an idea."

"About... sort of... moving in?" He seemed so nervous, it was cute.

Little did he know, so was I. What I was about to mention seemed unreal, right? "No..." I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. "About decorating?"

Brian was back on his elbows again, separating our chests enough that I took in a deep breath. "All right." He blinked. "How?"