Damn Your Kiss

Chapter 9

"You love me," I repeated aloud, staring at Brendon, non-blinking. He had said it offhandedly, right? Like you would say to anyone you were close with, right?

He shrugged. "Is that so bad?"

"I just... I didn't expect it, that's all," I said quietly, ignoring his gaze. "We haven't been dating that long and-"

"And you don't know if you're ready to say it back." It wasn't a question, but a simple statement, as if he was commenting on the weather. And it broke my heart.

"It's not like that, Bren," I said softly. "I love you too."

But he just stared at me blankly. He wasn't mad, he was hurt, but I would have much rather have had him throwing things in rage than staring at me with eyes that showed just how hurt he really was.

"I'm sorry, it's just the last time I said I love you to someone they literally disappeared," I said to him. "It's not as if I don't love you, Brendon, but I'm still trying to heal from my wounds. There's so much about you that I love. I love the way your hair flops down to one side after you run your fingers through it. I love that you're patient with me, even though it's been almost two months and we've only got to second base. I love that you invited me to your sister's wedding, and I loved the way you were unsure about asking me. I love you, Brendon, but I don't know that the love that I have for you is good enough."

I looked at my feet, waiting for him to say something, anything. I heard him move closer towards me, and then felt him inches from me, but I didn't move my gaze. Finally, I felt his fingers under my chin, pulling it up so that I could look him in the eyes.

"Your love is good enough," he said softly, before planting a sweet kiss on my lips. It tasted of cigarettes and red wine, and I shivered. My hands reached up and grabbed the front of his plaid shirt. The gap between us was closed, and I would've stood there kissing him forever if my stomach hadn't growled.

Brendon pulled away, laughing uncontrollably, and I crossed my arms over my chest. "Not funny," I pouted.

"It is a little funny," he said to me, and I rolled my eyes at him. But despite myself, I began to laugh along with him.

"Let's eat before this gets cold," I said to him, and he nodded in agreement.

***

"When you were little, what did you wanna be when you grew up?" Brendon asked me. We were lying on the floor in my living room, our heads next to each other, but our bodies facing opposite directions. How we had gotten like that, I couldn't tell you, but it might have had something to do with the amount of wine we'd consumed with dinner.

"Until I was seven I wanted to be a housewife," I said with a sigh. "I just assumed that's what all women did. And then, in second grade, we read a book about Mae Jemison, the first African American woman in space, and I thought, 'Why not?', so for a little while I wanted to be an astronaut. And then I found out that space shuttles can sometimes explode, so that was out, and I decided I wanted to be a writer. And I've wanted to be one ever since."

"You wanted to be an astronaut," he said, as if the news was no surprise to him.

"I thought floating through space would be fun," I said with a shrug. "What about you?"

"Believe it or not I never really had one thing that I always wanted to be. I mean, I knew I loved music but I never thought I could make a career out of it," he replied.

"And yet here you are," I said to him. "How's the new album going?"

"It's going," he said, and I raised an eyebrow, even though I knew he couldn't see me.