Brian watched Mia as she leaned against the counter for a brief moment, sighing, before reaching into the paper bag and pulling out her groceries. He felt that familiar, buckling guilt settle on his shoulders when he heard her trying to hold back tears. Of course she knew what they were doing in Dom's garage, anyone could figure it out.
He glanced at the floor, sickened by the fact that he'd had a hand in so much of her heartbreak. As if leaving her five years ago wasn't enough, now Letty was dead and it was his fault, and Dom was halfway gone already. A soft, choked back noise caught his attention back to her, and he wanted to punch himself.
"Hey," he muttered, feeling pathetic and useless. He grabbed her arm, not gently, trying to make her understand how sorry he was. Mia looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and waited. Brian gazed back, wondering how the hell he was supposed to convey his feelings for her.
He did the only thing he probably shouldn't have done; he kissed her. He tried so hard to be gentle, tentative, and it was hard. Really, fucking hard, for him to kiss Mia Toretto and not ram her up against a wall or something and rip off her dress like he did at The Racer's Edge all those years ago. In his mind, he could see her lying naked beneath him, smiling that wicked smile of hers as her hands pulled his lips down closer, giggling when he nibbled at her neck. He imagined the small gasps she made, her fingers digging into his back, his name coming out in small, delicate-sounding murmurs. It drove him crazy, when she said his name like that.
He pulled away before the memories could make him deepen the kiss, his body aching to feel her familiar form pressed against his own. He looked at her, nervous of her reaction, bracing himself for a slap or a broken nose. She looked confused. Her eyes squinted at him, then his lips, then his face again and suddenly, she was reaching, fumbling for his neck and pushing herself onto her tiptoes as she pressed her lips against his again.
Oh, Jesus Christ, it felt so good. Brian could barely keep himself from devouring her taste again, like a starved addict. With ease, he lifted her onto the counter, disregarding the long-forgotten groceries, desperate to get closer to her. Her lips parted and he tried to stifle a soft moan, dipping his tongue in between them and grabbing her hips to scooch her closer, closer to him. She pushed his hoodie off his shoulders and he found himself dying to be back at The Racer's Edge, in his beat up little bed, fumbling under the covers with Dominic Toretto's sister as if they were teenagers.