recap:
He begins to lean in closer to me, not saying a word. Now, our faces are only inches away.
Right as he's about to touch his lips to mine, he turns his head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" he scratches the back of his neck. "I'm gonna go, now. You should probably get some rest, okay?"
As he gets off from the couch, I do something I definitely will regret later-
I grab his arm.
And I say a word that my conscience is yelling at me not to say. One word. Four letters.
"Wait,"
.
Brooklyn quickly faces his body towards me once again. The surprise is evident on his face, but then it looks like there's a glint of hope in his eye.
"Yeah?" he breaths coolly.
Why didn't you kiss me? Hike up your skirt and just kiss me, you asshole!
I almost blurt out my thoughts, but stop myself from doing so.
"I... Uh... Don't forget your clothes!" I panic, handing him his wet clothes that he changed out of.
[LMAO DON'T KILL ME ILY GUYS]
Brooklyn's expression changes once more. His face is blank."Oh, yeah. Thanks." He grabs his soggy clothes from me, and walks towards the direction of my front door.
I follow him. "How are you going to get home?"
"I'll figure it out," he shrugs. "Don't worry about it, just go get some rest, alright?"
Now we're both facing each other in front of the unopened door. "Are you sure? I don't know if it's safe for you to be going back out in the middle of the night."
I honestly don't know why I'm dragging this conversation further. I shouldn't be concerned about Brooklyn, or what happens to him.
Although I actually had a nice time tonight, I can't just forget about what he did to me.
"I'll be fine," he says in a neutral tone. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, as I can barely see him in this dark lighting.
"Okay," I instinctively put my hand around the back of his neck, holding him one last time.
Brooklyn's surprised at my sudden movement. Trust me, so am I.
We stare at each other, and I notice that his eyes are even more dilated than before. Looking down at his lips, I wonder to myself: Why didn't he kiss me, damn it. I quickly look back up once I realize that I was literally staring at his lips.
"What are you thinking?" he almost whispers.
Too many things.
I want him to stay, but then I remember I need to stand my ground and stay mad. Heck, I should be furious at him, right now. Just because he's Brooklyn fucking Beckham, he cannot always get what he wants. He shouldn't just want to be with me, because things with Cara didn't work out. I'm not going to be his rebound. I'm not going to be his second choice.
But then again, it was nice of him to come over tonight. He definitely didn't have to, so I'm not sure why he did.
As I try to come up with an answer to his simple question, I can tell he's trying to figure out what's going on in my head. He doesn't break the gaze he holds on me.
