Be My Girlfriend

67

Jo's P.O.V.

Sunday mornings always had a certain quiet to them, but today it felt different. Maybe it was because I knew Brittany was flying home tonight. Every hour that passed brought me closer to seeing her again.

I'd already finished up my work with Mrs. Keller yesterday before heading back to my house. The job wasn't too hard, just errands and keeping her company, but it had kept me busy enough that the week went by faster than I thought it would. Still, every night I went to sleep with the same thought—Brittany.

Now, sitting at the small dining table in my house with a half-finished cup of coffee, I checked my phone again. Nothing new from her yet. Usually, she'd text me the second she woke up, even if it was just a picture of her messy hair or a sleepy emoji. But I guessed she was busy packing and getting ready for the airport.

I smiled at the thought. Tonight, she'd be back. Just a few more hours.

I got up, stretched, and decided to take a shower. Afterward, I threw on some sweatpants and an old t-shirt. No point in dressing up yet—I had the whole day to get ready.

I went about cleaning up the living room, folding a blanket I'd left on the couch, and stacking a couple of dishes I hadn't washed yet. My mind kept drifting back to Brittany. I pictured her at the airport, probably running late, dragging her suitcase behind her while her friends rolled their eyes as they couldn't complain.

The sound of a car pulling up outside broke my thoughts. I frowned. Who was it? I wasn't expecting anyone. Curious, I peeked out the window.

My heart stopped.

It was Brittany.

She was standing right outside my house, pulling her luggage behind her with the biggest smile on her face.

For a second, I thought I was dreaming. I even rubbed my eyes like some cartoon character. But no, she was really there.

I rushed to the door and yanked it open just as she reached the steps.

"Surprise!" she shouted, dropping her bag and throwing her arms around me.

I couldn't even speak at first. My arms wrapped around her automatically, holding her tight, my face buried against her shoulder. She smelled like travel—airports and perfume, a little bit of tiredness—but it was the best thing I'd smelled all week.

"What—how—" I stammered when I finally pulled back enough to see her face. "You said your flight wasn't until tonight!"

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We took the earliest one instead. I wanted to surprise you."

"You did," I said, still in shock. "God, you really did."

She laughed and leaned in to kiss me, quick at first, then slower as if she was saying I missed you without words.

I kissed her back like I'd been waiting all week for this exact moment—which, honestly, I had.

When we finally broke apart, I took her hand and pulled her inside. Her luggage was left halfway in the doorway, but neither of us cared.

"You're insane," I said, shaking my head with a smile. "You rebooked all your flights just to surprise me? what did your friends say?"

"Of course," she said, plopping down on my couch like she owned the place. "Do you really think I could wait until tonight to see you? No way, and don't worry about them, they were okay with it."

I sat beside her, still grinning. "I can't believe you're here. You're supposed to be in the sky right now."

"Well, I'd rather be here." She reached out, tugging at my shirt until I leaned closer. "Besides, I missed you too much."

We didn't talk for a few minutes after that. Talking wasn't really necessary when our lips did all the work.

Her kiss was urgent, like she'd been holding back for days. My hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer until she was practically on my lap. She laughed into the kiss, breathless but happy.

"God, Jo," she whispered against my lips. "You have no idea how much I needed this."

"I think I do," I said, smiling before kissing her again.

Her fingers tangled in my hair while my hands roamed up her back, pressing her closer. It was a little messy, a little desperate, but that's what missing someone feels like.

Eventually, she pulled back, her forehead resting against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath.

"I told myself I wasn't going to jump you the second I saw you," she admitted, giggling, "but here we are."

I laughed too, brushing her hair back from her face. "You lasted about thirty seconds. Impressive."

She smacked my shoulder playfully before leaning in to kiss me again, softer this time, more tender.

The rest of the morning blurred into one long stretch of catching up. We talked about her trip, even though she'd texted me about almost everything already. Hearing her say it in person, with her hands moving wildly and her eyes lighting up, made it feel different.

She told me about the streets in Rome, how crowded they were but also beautiful. She showed me some souvenirs she had stuffed in her carry-on, little trinkets she insisted were 'totally you.' I teased her about buying too much, but secretly, I loved every piece she handed me.

We ate lunch together—just simple sandwiches I threw together because there was no way I was leaving her side long enough to cook anything fancy. She didn't care. She said anything tasted better if we ate it together.

The afternoon melted away as we curled up on my bed, her head on my shoulder, my fingers playing with hers. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we just lay in comfortable silence. Every now and then, she'd tilt her head up to kiss me, and I'd kiss her back without hesitation.

At one point, she stretched out fully on top of me, pinning me to the bed with a grin. "This is my spot now," she declared.

"Fine by me," I said, kissing her nose.

Her laugh filled the room, and I realized just how much I'd missed it. Texts and calls could only do so much. Nothing compared to having her right here.

Later, when the sun started to dip low, we stayed in my room. It wasn't really planned, it just happened naturally. One kiss led to another, and then another, until we couldn't stop. Clothes were shed carelessly, and the space between us disappeared completely.

It wasn't rushed this time. It was slow, filled with touches and whispers and the kind of closeness that only comes from being apart too long. Every sigh, every laugh, every kiss felt like a reminder: I'm here. I'm yours.

When it was over, we lay tangled in the sheets, our breaths evening out, our bodies warm from being so close. Brittany rested her head on my chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.

"I never want to leave again," she murmured.

I kissed the top of her head. "Good. Then don't."

She tilted her head to look at me, her smile soft. "You really don't know how much I love you, do you?"

I smiled back. "I think I do. Because I love you just as much."

We stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, until we both drifted off into the kind of sleep that only comes when you feel completely at peace.

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