Lying down on his bed, he began to read for the 9th time that night, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of…" He dropped the book back on the bed with a groan. It was pointless though, he couldn't concentrate on the words in front of him - all he could think about was her and how, whenever they saw each other, she flashed him that famous smile of hers, the one that she reserved only for him. The one that he was sure she had right before she kissed him during his moms' wedding.
That kiss though, it was beyond a doubt the best and worst thing that had ever happened to him. While she was gone, it had plagued his thoughts, day and night. He spent countless hours recounting the taste of her lips, the way her hands tugged and pulled at his hair, that little moan that she involuntarily released when he pulled her close to him. How he wished to take her in his arms and do it again. He promised himself that if, and when (because she just HAD to come back) she came back, he would take her in his arms and never let her go, no matter what anyone said.
But even the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray. Since she'd been back, the only physical contact that they shared was that mind-blowing, earth-shattering hug when he first saw her. Sure, they'd 'casually' brushed hands while passing the salad bowl at dinner, and sat way too close in the back of the van, but that wasn't nearly enough. And while he wanted more, he knew that what he needed most, what he was sure they both needed, was to lay everything out on the table and just talk. Talk about the Kiss and about their future. But he figured that she needed some space, some time to adjust to her feelings for him and to the fact that she was under the same roof as him. Or that was what he told himself anyway.
He needed air. This continuous cycle of thoughts was getting in the way of him finishing the book. Just as he was about to get up, he heard a soft knock on his door.
"Mom, I know it's getting late but-"he began to say, when he was interrupted with the one person he least expected (and most wanted) to be standing in the door way.
"Hey, I was just helping Stef and Lena get some things ready for decorating the tree tomorrow and found something I wanted to show you," she said with a mischievous smile, which soon turned to a look of disappointment. "But since you are getting ready for bed I'll just let you go." She turned to leave, but he had to stop her.
This was his chance to finally talk to her without being interrupted; besides she had come into his room with something and he was curious to see what she wanted. "No, its fine, come on in." He said, maybe a bit too eagerly. He patted the bed next to him. "I was just trying to get through this boring book, but I can't concentrate."
She made her way to bed with a smile, holding something behind her back and laid down on the bed next to him with the object still obscured from view. They sat there in silence, him awkwardly sitting and her making herself comfortable on his bed. "Oh what the hell," he thought to himself, as he lay down next to her, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't sure if he looked at her he would be able to refrain from touching her.
Huh, had he imagined it or did she seem to move closer to him? Yes it definitely wasn't his imagination because he could feel her warmth and smell her body wash. He could feel their sides touching and when he felt her breathing he almost stopped breathing himself. After weeks of simple caresses, being so close to her was driving him insane.
"Hi you." She said, her voice raspy. Being in his bed, with her a few inches away and feeling her breathing… he had to get closer. She seemed to have the same thought race through her mind as they both turned to face each other at the same time. She giggled.
"Hey yourself," he responded eagerly.
He didn't know what came over him – he wasn't sure if it was her laugh, her being in bed with him, or the fact that after weeks of barely touching, she was laying inches away from him, but before being able to stop himself, he blurted out, "I missed you. I missed you so much, Callie. You being gone…please don't ever do that again. Just promise me you'll stay and we'll work things out."
"Brandon, listen…" she said, and sat up. "I know we have a lot of things to talk about, and I promise, we'll get to them, but right now, for tonight, can we just please forget about it?"
Forget about it? How could he forget about it, forget about them? He couldn't remember a time when he was this confused. Well, maybe when he tried using chopsticks.
As if reading his thoughts she held up her hand. "I don't mean what happened…well I kind of do…just listen. I came here to show you something, so can we just focus on that?" She paused for a moment to let him nod before continuing. "So, as I was saying I was cleaning some things up and I wanted to show it to you because it made me think of you. You have to sit up and close your eyes because it's kind of a surprise."
"Okay…" He was still confused but did as he was told. He was sure he saw her flash that smile he saw all those months ago on her face.
"Alright, you can open them now." He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be seeing, aside from her face. Man, how he wished he would see that face every day for the rest of his life. He had noticed that her hand rose above her head. He followed the path of her long, outstretched arm and saw that it ended on a green looking plant.
"Callie, what…?" He took his hand and put it on his head in confusion.
"Oh come on, Brandon, I thought you were supposed to be smart!" She teased. Taking the hand that was on his head, capturing it in her free one, and giving it a light squeeze. "This right here, this is mistletoe. It is a plant. According to tradition, when two people are under it, they have to kiss. "
He wasn't sure what to say. The girl he loved (and he wasn't afraid to admit it anymore) was propositioning him for a kiss, and he wasn't going to say no. "Well, I guess if its tradition..." but before he could finish his sentence, he felt her lips on his.
It wasn't like their first kiss (and he was glad that he could actually start counting their kisses), it was slow and passionate and filled with a longing that he didn't know he had. All too soon though, he felt her pull away. But no, that was too soon! He didn't have enough (and he doubted he ever would), so without a second thought, he moved his hands to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer to him, gently sucking on her lips. She responded in earnest with a soft moan.
He tried to convey all that he was feeling, all that he wanted to talk to her about in that kiss – just how much he wanted to be with her and how it didn't matter what his family or anyone else would say because when the two of them were together, they could handle anything that came their way.
