They need you too.
And you need them. You need a family, don't you?
A voice in my head keeps repeating that. It sounds like a drum is being played right next to my ear. I'm sitting on the counter, and I can feel Brandon staring at me. He's concerned. I can tell. I haven't said anything since he told me that Stef and Lena need me.
They do. You need them too. You know he's right. Just forget about him. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be in this mess right now.
Another voice comes in.
She needs him too. Where would Jude be if it weren't for him?
The other voice stays quiet for a few minutes.
He'd still be safe at the fosters.
Her dad was ready to shoot her, dumbass. He'd be heartbroken.
Like he is now because she's not with him. She needs a family.
She doesn't have to get adopted for one.
Yes. She does. What can Brandon give her?
Nothing.
"Callie?" Brandon finally decides to say something, and it made the voices shut up. I look up at him, thankful that my mind wasn't split into two parts anymore.
"Yeah?" I answer, swinging my feet.
"You haven't said anything for an hour," Brandon informs me, standing in front of me, his hands resting on my thighs. "I wasn't trying to make yo-"
"Change my mind?"
Brandon licks and bites his bottom lip, "Yeah. Or confuse you. I wa-"
I cut him off, kissing him. I can tell I catch him off guard, but he quickly gets over it.
"I promised that I wasn't going to leave you," I mumble against his lips. "I'm going to keep it." It's the truth, because honestly, I don't want to leave him at all. After two months of finding out new things about him, and opening up to him, and letting him know things about me, it was almost impossible to imagine not being with him.
Brandon starts to pull away, resting his head on my forehead. "But I... Cals..."
I already miss the feeling of his lips on mine, so I kiss him gently, grabbing his shirt and pull him closer to me.
"I know," I murmur. "I know."
Brandon gives up on talking, and kisses me back, his hands traveling up my thighs and rest on my waist, running his tongue along my bottom lip, I open my mouth, my tongue intertwining with his while his hands travel to the back of thighs and pick me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck.
Brandon smiles, and starts to make his way to the bedroom. "I don't think I'll ever get used to you kissing me like this." He mumbles as he kicks the door shut.
I laugh. "Well, then I guess I'll keep doing it."
Brandon doesn't say anything, pins me against the wall and begins to trail kisses from my jawline, down to my neck and hits the sweet spot in the crook. I inhale sharply as his lips make contact and he responds by focusing on that one spot, licking and sucking. "Brandon, oh god- please..."
He breaks contact with my skin and looks me in the eye, lust and desire hooding his green gaze. "Too much?" he teases.
Instead of replying, I take his hand and firmly lead him to the bed, falling onto the soft cushion with him on top.
He supports his own weight with half his body on mine. For a few minutes, I just look up at him, waiting for him do something, and I bite my lip.
"God, don't do that," He mumbles.
I'm confused. "Do what?"
"Bite your lip."
"Why not?"
"It makes me w- oh, fuck it." He mutters, his lips crashing down on to mine. My fingers find his hair, while his lips travel down to my jawline again, his lips barely brushing against my neck. I close my eyes, and push him closer to me.
"God, Callie..." Brandon voice trails off again, sucking my neck, causing me to moan.
I can tell Brandon smiles, and his hands travel to the hem of my jeans, his fingers tracing the skin above them. He pauses for a second, then starts to unbutton them.
For a few seconds, it's not Brandon who's pressed against me, but its Liam, who's forcefully pulling my jeans off of my hips.
I suddenly push Brandon off of me, and sit up, buttoning my jeans up quickly.
Brandon stares at me in shock, his hands up, as if showing he isn't going to do anything. I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose, but I can't get the memories of that night out of my head right now. How Liam forcefully shoved me against the wall, before asking me again, even though he wasn't going to listen to my answer.
"I-I'm sorry, Brandon," I tell him, shaking my head. "I- I just.. It's just th- I'm sorry," I don't know what else to tell him. "I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" Brandon asks gently. "I get it. I don't want to push to far."
I rub my temples, looking away from him. "I-I... it's just that y-"
"Callie, look at me," I don't look at him, and I can feel his hand underneath my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Why are you sorry?" He asks again, his green eyes staring at me gently.
"I-I- I don't know," I answer, fumbling with my words. "It's just th-"
"Callie, just because you aren't ready to sex with me," He lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Doesn't mean you have to be sorry for it." He lets out another nervous laugh. "I was going kinda fast, wasn't I?"
I still don't answer, not wanting to say anything, because if I say anything, I'd sound like a complete moron, but I speak anyways.
"But y-"
Brandon stands up, taking my hand. "That doesn't matter. Come on. We're going out."
Brandon decided to make time pass by going out for a walk, more like looking for jobs. I don't mind, I'm still a little shaken up from earlier, and Brandon notices. The only thing that he does is hold my hand, like he's afraid that I'll leave if he does anything else.
We were causally looking at keyboards at the music store, when he suddenly speaks again, his words completely random. "I'm sorry."
I look up at him. "For what?"
Brandon runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. I feel horrible that I wa-"
"Hey, it doesn't matter. It's okay."
"But it doesn't feel like that. I feel like that I have to tell you I'm sorry, because I am sorry. I just feel like no matter how many times I tell you, you won't believe me."
"Brandon?"
"Yeah?"
"It's okay. I promise."
Brandon nods like he wants to believe me, his green eyes not meeting mine. "Yeah, okay." He mumbles, his free hand playing a few notes. "Sure."
I rest my head on his shoulder. "You should apply here," I tell him. "You'd be good at it."
Brandon laughs. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, you're good at the piano, and you know the guitar pretty well. Why not? You can give piano lessons here or something."
"Okay, I am not that good."
"B, have you even heard yourself play? You're amazing!"
"I'm not that good." He repeats simply, wrapping his arm around my waist.
"We need to check your hearing," I mumble to myself. "Seriously."
Brandon hears me, and he kisses my temple. "Well, you're beautiful."
"And?" I ask jokingly, but Brandon goes on.
"And kind. And smart. And you have talent with guitar. Maybe you should get a job here."
"God, no. Don't even think about it."
Brandon just smiles and shakes his head. "Okay, fine. Don't get a job here. We should start our own business."
"Okay. Company name?"
"Uh, Talented and beautiful?"
"Product?"
"Girls like you?"
"That's not a product, dummy."
"I know. But you fit the company's name."
I roll my eyes and punch his shoulder playfully. "Whatever you say, Foster."
"I think you need an eye appointment."
"Okay. I'll call the doctor."
Brandon gives me a fake pouty face. "This is the part where you laugh and shower me with kisses."
"Don't push your luck."
"Aha. So you were going to kiss me?"
"There's a slight possibility."
Brandon smiles. "Alright. So, how about a new guitar, Jacob?"
I shake my head. "No, I like the one at home."
"Any particular reason?" He teases.
"No. Maybe we should get you a new keyboard."
"I don't need a new keyboard."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah! I- It's not like I need one. I'd think it be nice to have a new one, but I don't need one."
"I think you need a new one."
"Yeah? So I can serenade any time you please?"
My face heats up, making Brandon smile. "That's a possibility." I mutter.
"Maybe I will get a new one for that reason," Brandon teases, playing a few notes on the nearest one. "How 'bout this one?"
"Don't look at me."
"Well, when I serenade you, I want to give you the best quality."
I laugh, letting go of his hand. "Play for me."
His face shows shock, and he looks around at the few other customers, but besides them the store is empty. "Like right now? Here?"
I nod. "You don't have to sing, just play."
"Callie, if this is so I get a job here or som-"
I cut him off, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Please?"
Brandon sighs and mumbles something and girlfriends and music, but starts playing anyway.
Brandon look likes he's in his own little world, which I guess he is. His fingers run along the keys expertly, oblivious to the people who started to stop and listen. I smile, recognizing the song. It was the song he showed me my first day at Anchor Beach, it just sounded a little more complex.
When his finishes the song, I can tell he was surprised by the people clapping.
He looks at me, giving me a small smile as most of the people start walking away, expect for a little boy, who's looking at Brandon in awe.
"How'd you do that, sir?"
Brandon looks shocked, and raises an eyebrow at me, as if saying I'm a sir?
"Well, I- uh," Brandon runs his fingers through his hair. "I learned how to play when I was young. How old are you?"
"Ten, sir."
Brandon smiles. "You can call me Brandon, kiddo. What's your name?"
"Ethan," The boy says. "Can you teach me?"
"I- uh, I..." Brandon looks at me for help, and I shrug. "I don't work here."
Ethan smiles, showing a row of crooked teeth. "That's okay," He tells Brandon. "I know the guy who owns this place."
"Can't he teach you?" Brandon asks.
"He can't play piano," Ethan says sadly. "But he knows a lot about it, but can't play."
"Well," Brandon says giving Ethan a small smile. "I want to meet him. Maybe he'll like me."
Ethan disappears down one of the aisles, and Brandon and I follow him. I feel weird about following a ten year old through a store, but Brandon takes my hand and continues to follow him.
After a few minutes, Brandon pulls me up to the front counter, Ethan talking to a man.
"Justin, I found somebody to give piano lessons," Ethan says, looking at Brandon. "He's super good."
Justin looks over at Brandon and runs his hand through his beard, fixing his glasses. For some reason, he reminds me of Si from Duck Dynasty.
"How old are you?" He questions, squinting his eyes.
"Uh, sixteen, almost seventeen." Brandon answers.
Justin nods. "You play piano?"
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"Since I was six or seven."
"Play anything else?"
"I know a little guitar." Brandon offers.
"Hmm, play the piano for me," Justin commands, opening the door behind him. "I want to see how good you are."
Brandon follows Justin into the room and sits at the piano. "Uh, what do you want me to play?"
"The hardest piece you know."
After Brandon plays the piece, Justin just smiles.
"Ya know kid, if I still had my right hand, I still wouldn't be able to play that. And I've played since I was eight," He pats Brandon on the back. "Four days a week, four hours, 50 dollars an hour?"
"I- I- sure?"
"Well, you'll probably get more than that, if Ethan dad pays you to give him lessons. That man is rich as hell. I'm surprised that Ethan is nothing like his father."
"When should I start?" Brandon asks.
"Next Tuesday at four good? That's when most people start to come here."
"Yeah, that's fine," Brandon answers. "Well, thanks."
"Ah, no, thank you."
A few minutes later, after getting out of the store, Brandon looks down at me.
"How'd you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me get a job in less than an hour?"
"I made you play. I told you that you were good."
Brandon just shakes his head and smiles.
