Chapter 15.

Callie threw open her closet, and began flipping through the hanging garments, trying to find something to wear. She chose one of her favorite outfits, and pulled it on, then looked in the mirror. Her hair hung limply, wet and knotted. She picked up her comb, and began working through her tangles. Not wanting to waste time blow drying her hair, she gathered it at the nape of her neck, and tied it in a loose, messy bun. She seldom wore makeup, but while she was still studying herself in the mirror, she opened her makeup bag and dug through it. When she was satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her jacket and rushed out the door.

So anxious to get to Brandon, she found herself half walking, half running, to get to his apartment. She only realized she could have drove when she was almost there. As she hurried down the sidewalks, light raindrops pelted her back, and the wind freed a tendril of damp hair, blowing it across her face.

When she finally reached Brandon's building, she hurried down the hall to his door and jabbed the doorbell hard with her could hardly control her smile as she waited for him to answer the door. Growing impatient, she rang the bell again. She knew he was home. She could hear his TV.

"I'm coming!" he called from inside. At last, she heard the door unlock. She watched it open, holding her breath. There, her stood.

"Callie?" he asked, his face showing a mixture of wariness and joy.

Out of breath from walking so far so fast, Callie hurried to collect herself. "I came to tell you that I lied. I do love you," she breathed, rushing through her words. "I want to be with you. I want our nice kitchen table-"

"B.?"

Callie looked past Brandon's shoulder, and saw Lou, dressed in a leopard print bathrobe. "Hey, Callie," she smiled, running her fingers through her wet hair.

Callie sucked in her breath, her eyes filling with tears. What was that song-stealing witch doing with Brandon? After he claimed he loved her? She looked at him in shock, then turned and ran away, sure that going to him was a mistake, and angry at herself for letting it happen.

"Callie!" Brandon called. "Wait!"

She kept running, outside, down the sidewalk, his footsteps following behind her. The rain was coming faster now, fat drops weighing her down. She didn't know where she was running too. She just had to get away. Her chest burned, and her tears dried on her face, inky from her mascara.

When she couldn't run anymore, she stopped, doubled over, heaving.

"Callie!" Brandon had caught up with her, his face flushed.

"How could you do this to me?" she sobbed, when he was several feet away from her. "You said you loved me. I was coming over to tell you that I'm in love with you too."

Brandon sighed, reaching out for her hand, but she pulled it away. "It's not what it looks like, Cal."

"Really?" she cried. "Because it sure looked like something."

"Let's go somewhere to talk, out of the rain," Brandon suggested.

"No." She planted her feet firmly on the wet sidewalk.

"Callie," he sighed. "You're going to get sick." He came closer, grabbing her hand before she could stop him.

"I trusted you," she sniffled. "I believed you."

Brandon sighed, his face drawn. "The water pipes broke in Lou's apartment," he told her. "She came over to take a shower, because she has a job interview tomorrow. That's all. You can either believe me or not, but that's the truth."

"How can I know for sure?" Callie pleaded, her tears slowing.

"Because I only love you," he breathed. "Lou is my friend and band mate, but she's not you. Callie, you're my heartbeat. You're all I've ever wanted. I don't want anyone else."

He regarded her with tears in his eyes. "Getting set up on that blind date with you was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I don't want to lose you again. You can trust me, baby. I promise."

Callie's heart felt as if it had been ripped in half. Everything in her past told her not to trust; that Brandon was too good to be true. "I don't want to get hurt again."

"I would never hurt you," he breathed. "Callie... I'll prove it to you if you'll just give me a chance." He cupped her cheek in her hand, skimming her mascara-stained face with his fingertips. "I love you." He leaned in, and pressed a whisper of a kiss to her lips.

With him so close, being so gentle and tender, Callie's heart softened. "I'm sorry," she apologized, looking down. "I feel so stupid. You've never given me any reason not to trust you. It's just that, you know, Lou is so beautiful, and she was in your apartment... but... I believe you."

Brandon sobbed, choking back his tears. "Does this mean... we... you and I?"

Callie nodded. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

"Shh," he whispered. "That doesn't matter now. Just let me hold you." He grabbed her in his arms, rocking her back and forth. Then, tilted his head down, and their lips met.

When they parted, he took her face between his hands, looking her in the eye. "Why don't you come back to my place? You're soaking wet." He ran his fingers through her limp hair. "Lou's probably gone by now. You can spend the night."

"I'd love to," she told him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he told her, as they walked hand-in-hand.

Stepping out of the shower, Callie wrapped herself in a towel, feeling refreshed. Brandon had thrown their wet clothes in the dryer as soon as they got back to his apartment, and gave her a baggy t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to wear.

She dried off quickly, and got dressed in the clothes he had provided. The sexiness of wearing his underwear wasn't lost on her. She felt warm from the inside out. She towel-dried her hair, not bothering to comb it, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Brandon was sprawled on his bed, waiting for her, dressed almost exactly the same as she was.

"Thanks for the clothes," she said, crawling in beside him, and getting under the covers.

"No problem," he smiled. "You look adorable." He caught her lips in a kiss, circling the perked-up tips of her breasts with his fingertips. "I love you."

"I love you too," she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. "There's something you should know, though."

"What is it?" he asked.

"You've probably heard that I'm leaving for England in about four and a half weeks, to study abroad. I'll be gone for seven months."

"Oh," he said quietly, a look of disappointment filling his face.

"You can date other people while I'm gone if you want to." She hoped and prayed that he would dismiss the idea.

"Are you crazy?" he asked. "I told you, I don't want anyone else." He sighed. "I could go with you."

"You can't," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"I'm really going to miss you."

"I won't go if you don't want me to," she told him, running her hand up his arm. "Just say the word."

He was silent for a moment. "Part of me wants to tell you to stay," he finally confessed. "But that would be selfish. I don't want to hold you back from your education. I want you to go."

"Are you sure?" She gripped his arm tighter.

He nodded. "Yes. It'll be like a test. I know it's hard for you to trust, Cal. But when you get back from England, I'll still be here, and I'll be just as much in love with you as I am now. And you'll see that how I feel about you is for real."

She smiled, drawing him into her arms. "We can talk every day, too."

He nodded. "And for now, we'll enjoy every minute we have together." He smiled mischievously before kissing her again. As he did so, he reached under her borrowed shirt, and pulled it over her head.

To Be Continued