Chapter 2.

(Warning: this chapter contains mild, non-graphic smut. Read at your own risk.)

Callie glanced down at the time on her phone. Leo and his friend were late. She yawned, growing bored. She would much rather be back at the dorm, eating ice cream and watching Hoarders.

"If Leo and Brad or Brent isn't here in five minutes, I'm bailing," she whispered to Caitlin.

Her friend gave her a stern look, arching her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "Patience is a virtue, Cal."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, when she heard a laugh erupt from behind. It was a familiar sound, though she couldn't quite put her finger on who it belonged to. She turned around to see Leo crossing the restaurant, with his friend. Brad and/or Brent looked up, and their eyes met across the room. She sucked in her breath with disbelief, unable to look away.

"Callie," Caitlin whispered, tapping her on the elbow. "I remembered your guy's name. It's Brandon."

"Callie?" her date gasped, now standing in front of her. An sweet, crooked smile played on his lips. It was the same smile she once looked forward to seeing every morning as she ate her cornflakes. "You're my blind date?"

She nodded, dumbfounded. "I guess I am."

"Good," Caitlin clapped. "You two already know each other."

"Uh, yeah," said Brandon, turning to glance at her. "Callie and I sort of have a history."

Caitlin looked at her roommate, perplexed, then her eyes lit up with recognition. "Brandon," she whispered, a little too loudly. She'd heard once before about Callie's first real love, told over cold Chinese take-out during late night study breaks. "Wait a sec." She turned to Callie. "He isn't your Brandon, is he?"

"Shut up," Callie hissed.

But Brandon had heard. "Yup. We're one in the same."

"Guys, if this is too awkward for you-" Caitlin began, apologetically. She knew how torrid their relationship had been, and how sadly it ended.

Brandon held up his hand to stop her. "I'm cool with it. If Callie is, I mean." He looked at her, waiting for her approval.

She shrugged, trying to stay indifferent. "I'm okay with it too."

Brandon sat down across from Callie, his eyes as clear and curious as ever. "I can't believe it's you," he breathed.

"I can't believe it's you," she replied, parroting his words.

"It's good to see you," he told her. "You look... beautiful."

"So do you," she nodded. "Handsome, I mean. Not beautiful."

Brandon chucked, reaching for her hand across the table, then deciding against it and pulling away. "I've missed you, Callie. I think about you a lot."

"I think about you, too," she admitted. She paused awkwardly. "This is all a little overwhelming. What do we do?"

Brandon wrinkled his nose in thought. "We could just enjoy ourselves? It's just a regular date."

Callie blushed. "I don't really get out much."

"Neither do I," he confided.

"So, how's Jude?" she asked. "Do you ever get home to see him?"

"He's okay," Brandon told her. "No better, no worse." He was referring to Jude's mutism. "I just saw him last weekend." His face shadowed with sadness.

"Poor baby," she sighed ignoring the fact that her little brother was now sixteen. "I'm need to call him this week. Stef and Lena too. I haven't talked to them in a while."

"They'll love hearing from you," he nodded. "They miss you."

"I miss them too." She looked down into her lap, then met Brandon's eyes again. "Brandon, if this is too weird, we can-" She let her sentence hang in the air.

"It's only weird if we make it weird," he replied.

Three Years Ago:

"We won't let you take her!" Lena cried, reaching for Callie's bag and holding it protectively.

Robert gave her an apologetic look. "I hate to do this. I know you care about Callie, and I'm sorry. But if you try to stop me, my lawyer is on standby." His jaw tightened under the stress. "She's my daughter, not yours. She belongs with us."

Stef held her wife back. "There's nothing we can do, hon," she told her. "It kills me to see her go, but I don't know what else to do."

She turned to Callie, who was holding Jude in her arms as he cried silent tears. "Callie, sweetheart, come here."

Callie turned to her beloved foster mother, flinching when she touched her shoulder. "What?"

Stef took Callie in her arms, kissing her cheek. Tears gave her green eyes a liquid, earthy look, like a cool pond. "He can take you from our home," she told her. "But he can never take away the love we have for you. You will always be or daughter, honey. And when you're of age, if you want to come back to us, you can." She brushed Callie's hair behind her ear. "Good luck, slug-a-bug."

Callie nodded. "Thanks." She looked back at Robert defiantly. "Mom."

She gave Jude one more hug, wishing she could hear his voice, even if he only said one word. Then, she left.

Once she was sitting in the passenger seat of Robert's car, and they were on the road to her new home, she turned to her father. "Congratulations... you got me. But you also lost me."

The world seemed out of Callie's grasp as she stood, pinned against the door as Brandon simultaneously kissed her and fumbled with the key to his apartment.

She'd never hooked up with a guy on a first date, but it was Brandon. The rules were different with him.

Leo had decided to go home with Caitlin after the concert, leaving Brandon to call a cab. Callie had offered to drive him home. One thing led to another, and now she was stumbling into his living room as the door unexpectedly opened behind her. Brandon picked her up, without breaking the connection between their mouths, and she wrapped her thighs around his waist.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he gasped, breathing heavily.

"Mm-hm," she breathed, smashing her lips against his. She felt between them until she found the buttons on his shirt, and hastily tore at them, exposing his chest.

"Callie," Brandon sighed, gripping her ass. "I've wanted this for so long."

He set her down, and she nodded, working at undoing his belt. "So have I." She used to touch herself and think of him as she lay at night in her big four poster bed. When she was alone in her cavernous bedroom was when she'd craved human contact the most.

The trail of discarded clothes continued to Brandon's room, and ended with them, stripped down to their underthings. Brandon unhooked her bra, and she quickly shed it. Then, holding her breath, she quickly tugged his boxers down, letting them fall to his ankles.

Brandon's body was still as sexy as it was when she was sixteen. She hadn't seen him naked since the one time she'd accidentally walked in on him getting out of the shower.

"You're gonna catch flies that way," he'd teased, reaching for his towel. As he wrapped it around his waist, she'd closed her mouth and hurried away.

Now, he was pressed against her. "Callie, are you sure about this?" he asked again, quietly.

Callie looked him in the eye, unwavering. "Brandon, just fuck me."

With a nod, he lifted her onto the bed, hovering over her, stealing hungry kisses.

They frantically kissed and touched, until Brandon reached into his nightstand drawer, looking for a condom.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered, grabbing his wrist. "I'm on the pill." This was true; her 'Wicked Stepmother' had put her on it shortly after she moved in, to prevent a potential teenage pregnancy, and the shame and degradation it would put on the family. After all, Callie was 'just like her mother.' But that night, Callie was actually grateful for Jill's ignorance; she was finally going to know what it felt like to have Brandon inside her, with nothing separating them.

Brandon nodded, his messed-up hair flopping over his forehead. He pulled her closer, drawing her in for another sloppy kiss.

It escalated from there, until Callie was on top of him, letting him fill her. And it ended with the best orgasm she'd ever had.

Callie woke up early the next morning, disoriented because she wasn't in her own bed. Then, the soreness between her legs reminded her of the night before. That, and the fact that Brandon was curled up beside her, his arms draped around her body. She reached down, and felt the stickiness on her thighs, from both of them. It wasn't just a (hot) dream. It had happened.

Finally, Brandon roused from his sleep, nuzzling against her cheek. His face was covered in a sexy stubble that scratched her own smooth skin and gave her pleasant goosebumps.

"Good morning," he mumbled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Good morning," she replied.

"Did you sleep good?" he asked, absentmindedly playing with the tip of her breast.

"Yes," she nodded, yawning. "Best night's sleep I've ever had." She brushed his hand away from her chest, and sat up in bed. "Is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Bathroom's right over there," he told her, pointing.

Callie stepped out of the shower, onto the cold tile floor. The warm water beating down on her washed away the last of her aches and pains. It felt so good, she almost didn't notice that she was crying. She'd waited so long to be so close to Brandon, and now that it had finally happened, she was worried. She was so broken, and he didn't know the half of it; he didn't know that she didn't date because she was still afraid of every man but him, or the depression that seized her if she didn't keep busy enough. Brandon had always tried to fix everyone's problems, but she'd decided long ago that she was a lost cause; she'd resolved, while living in the Quinn household, to become as unlovable as possible. Now, it came by habit. Sophia was the only one who saw her tender side anymore. What if Brandon wanted more than she could give him? And how could she tell him that in sixty-five days, she would be leaving all over again?

Sighing, she finished drying off, then looked around for something to wear. She hadn't collected her clothes, which were still strewn across Brandon's living room. And the only thing she'd slept in was the necklace she never took off. She spotted a blue bathrobe hanging on a hook, and put it on, tying the belt around her waist.

She found Brandon in the kitchen, making coffee. "Hey," he said, smiling when he saw her.

"What?" she asked mischievously.

"You look cute in my robe," he replied. He lifted her onto to the counter, and untied the knot in the belt. Then, he began kissing her neck, suckling the skin, gripping her waist.

Once she had a hickey, he drew his lips from her neck with a soft smacking noise. Callie was still perched on the counter, with the robe gathered around her hips.

"Are you hungry?" Brandon asked. "I could make you breakfast?"

"Starving," she answered, gripping his shoulders. "Do you still make those 'serious pancakes?'"

His eyes lit up knowingly as he recognized his own words, and he nodded. "Of course."

But he made no move toward the refrigerator or the cupboards. He just stood there, a dopey expression on his face. Then, he reached out and touched Callie's cheek. "You know, I've never gotten over you."

To Be Continued