Had a fantastically productive and positive Thursday, so I decided to reward myself with a few hours of writing (I told you I was helpless to resist the urge to write). Here's a quick update before I dive back into the assignment pile.

Chapter 56

Gulping again, I slowly nodded, extracting myself from his grasp and shifting back onto my own cushion, ensuring that we were once again separate entities. My mind was in chaos, like a crisis centre just after an earthquake. Every braincell I possess at the moment was scrambling to answer the phones, relay information, create a bigger picture of the problem as they tried to get the situation under control. Unfortunately for me, the braincells on shift today were the ones that had apparently missed the vital day of training when they were supposed to learn how to remain calm in the face of disaster.

We hadn't really spoken about our relationship since I came from England beyond the occasional off-hand comment about friendship. And now, with how quickly he'd pulled back when our lips met accidentally and how serious he appeared, I couldn't help but think I'd completely misjudged the direction of the development between us. I felt like such an idiot, sitting there on my couch, about to be rejected by my best friend. I didn't know what I would do if what I'd just done had ruined everything we'd built so far.

Tucking my hands between my knees to squash the urge to fidget, I took a deep breath and nodded once, making eye contact with the empty bakery bag on the coffee table. "Okay," I said.

Bobby leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, but keeping his head turned toward me. His eyes were boring into the side of my skull. "When you first got back from training overseas I told you that I would be your friend and nothing more for as long as that was what you needed of me."

I cut my gaze to him and somehow managed put my ill-feelings aside. "I don't think that's exactly how you worded it," I said, hoping to insert some levity into the conversation and get back to a more familiar place where I wasn't freaking the fuck out.

"Steph, please," Bobby said, almost pleadingly, dashing away my dreams of deflecting with humour. My stomach flipped with even greater worry as he added, "This is important."

I nodded, feeling my eyes creeping wider as my pulse continued to race faster and faster. "I know," I agreed, nodding emphatically, searching his face for a sign of how he was feeling about what had passed between us a few moments ago. It was a fruitless attempt, his military training having clicked on to mask his true feelings. I wish I had the same level of protection, but instead, I was an open book. "That's why I'm trying to joke about it," I added. "I'm nervous about what you're going to say. If I can make fun of the situation then I might be able to get through whatever happens easier if it has a bad ending."

Bobby sat back, his blank expression slackening into one of surprise and worry. "What make's you think it's going to end badly?" he asked quietly.

Shrugging, I avoided his gaze. I wanted whatever this conversation was to be over, and my instinct my instinct and habits were telling me to avoid it, to deny it's very existence, but the part of me that was still capable of rational thought realised that the only way out was through. It was the mature thing to do. I owed it to myself and to Bobby to do this properly. We'd been more open with each other than ever in the last few weeks. Now was not the time to clam up and fall back into my unhealthy patterns.

"It's just the way things always go for me, I guess," I explained. "Things in my life have a tendency to explode in a fiery spectacle of destruction." I cut my eyes to him and was unable to prevent the second attempt at a joke from escaping me. "Sometimes literally," I added.

"Right," he agreed, nodding as he resumed his forward-leaning position. "Well, I hope this isn't one of those times."

My brows shot clear off my face at that. I'd been panicking that I'd read the situation wrong and it had cost me my best friend, but maybe I was wrong to jump to conclusions. "What?"

He sighed, taking up the staring contest I'd abandoned with the bakery bag. "I said I'd be your friend and just your friend for as long as you needed. No matter what," he reiterated, speaking slowly, like he was measuring each syllable before he allowed it past his lips. His brows were drawn together in concentration as he wove his fingers together. "But I'd be lying if I told you it's been easy for me to compartmentalise my feelings so I didn't end up doing something stupid and risk losing you all together."

I let out a breath. "Bobby," I said, reaching a hand out to lay on his shoulder. "I'm not going to-"

"Just now," he interrupted, but I got the feeling it wasn't because he didn't like what he was hearing, or was trying to be cruel, but simply because he had so many thoughts running through his head that he couldn't contain them all. He had to get them out in the open where they'd hopefully be easier to examine. I knew that feeling. I was prone to experiencing it myself. IT was half the reason I ran my mouth so much on a day to day basis.

"Our lips meeting just now, that first time, was entirely accidental," he explained, frowning at the paper bag. "I pulled back as soon as my brain registered what had happened, and I was trying to apologise because I didn't want you to think I was pushing you for something more. But then our lips touched again in a way that I'm pretty sure was not accidental…?"

The unfinished question hung in the air for a long moment, wreaking havoc on my entire cardiovascular system. My face was hot – probably beet red – and I could feel my heart in my throat and the pit of my stomach as the same time, restricting my ability to speak. When my silence stretched on for a few seconds, he turned to look at me and I tried very hard to maintain eye contact as I gave a single, slow and deliberate nod. I had no idea what my face was doing, but I felt like a deer in the headlights. If I blinked or moved I was likely to be stream rolled by the oncoming truck. For once, I was absolutely still, waiting for what would happen next.

Bobby reached up to my hand that was still on his shoulder and sandwiched it between both of his in his lap. "So it seems to me like you're interested," he said slowly, that wary expression remaining in his eyes as they flickered over my face. "But I also know the story of your Jelly Donut Hormones, and I need to know that what just happened wasn't-"

Unbidden, a laugh burbled up from inside me, cutting him off. "I just ate three donuts," I pointed out. "Not to mention the ice cream I had at three-thirty this morning. There is no reason I would be experiencing a hormone spike due to lack of sugar." I paused, shaking my head as I started to relax. "I kissed you because I needed to stop you from apologising. It seemed like the most effective method of achieving my objective. Plus, it's something that's crossed my mind a few times recently."

Bobby's left brow arched higher than his right one. "Stopping me from apologising?"

"No," I smiled, leaning in closer. "Kissing you."

His eyes flickered to my lips as I let my tongue dart out and moisten them. He groaned. "I'm not sure I can keep my feelings in check if you're going to be doing that kind of thing," he informed me quietly.

"Stopping you from apologising?" I asked innocently, shifting so that my thigh was pressed against his.

"No," he countered, leaning in a fraction of an inch, letting me know that my joke had been acknowledged as the tell-tale smile lines appeared around his eyes and he squeezed my hand. "Kissing me."

"So don't," I suggested, sounding much more nonchalant than I felt right at that second. I was pretty sure we were heading in the direction I'd hoped we would be, but there was still that seed of doubt germinating in the pit of my stomach.

His tone held a hint of warning when he spoke, but he didn't attempt to back away. "Steph."

I shook my head, turning so that I was sitting sideways on the sofa, facing him fully for the first time since he'd ended our make-out session. "I'm serious, Bobby," I told him. "You gave me time to get my life in some semblance of order, and I can't thank you enough for all the support you've given me throughout the process. But our relationship has been growing and developing naturally up until this point and I don't see why we shouldn't continue to allow it to do so."

For several seconds, Bobby said nothing, his gaze continuing to rover over my face as he sat back to examine me more fully. Those two little lines between his eyebrows returned as he concentrated, processing my words, and my body language, and my actions.

My lungs were starting to burn from holding my breath as I waited for him to respond. This was it. The moment of truth. Make or break, I'd said my piece and now the fate of our relationship was in his hands.

It felt like an enternity passed before he finally nodded, dragging his eyes back to mine and said simply, "Okay."

I blinked, confused. "Is… is okay good?"

His face split into that wide, easy grin I'd come to know and love and the next thing I knew he'd dragged me into his lap. "Stephanie, okay is wonderful," he assured me, sealing out mouths together for the third time that morning. I was helpless to do anything but melt against him as my lips parted instinctively to allow him access. It felt right to be there in his arms, sharing that moment with him.

And when the moment was complete, he turned me so that I was leaning back against his chest, facing the TV that was still running the Ghostbusters DVD despite our lack of attention to it. Dana and Louis were on the rooftop of her apartment building, opening the gate between dimensions. I realised we'd missed the majority of the movie between our kissing and conversation. It didn't matter to me, I'd seen it a thousand times, but realising the DVD was still playing reminded me of the reason Bobby had come over in the first place.

"I guess I should let you laze about and relax, huh?" I asked as he fiddled with one of my curls.

"This is fine," he murmured, tightening his arm around my middle like I'd threatened to leave him.

"We've missed a lot of the move," I pointed out. "Do you want me to rewind?"

His chest vibrated against my back as he chuckled. "I think I'll survive," he said easily. "Unless you're going to be lost?"

"Hmmm," I hummed, tilting my head to the side in mock contemplation. "You know, now that I think about it, I might have seen this one before."

Pressing his lips to the area of my neck I'd inadvertently exposed with my movement, he agreed, "Yeah, now that I think about it, it does seem familiar." He reached over to the end table, passing me my now luke-warm coffee before lifting his own to his lips, letting out a contented sigh as I felt him relax even more into the couch to enjoy the end of the movie.

Feels good to have that out of the planning notebook and into the world for all to see.