The Skeletøn Bøy

Bonus Chapter #2

"Brent, please tell me where we're going. Am I okay?"

Elliott gestured at her outfit, not knowing if the oxford shirt underneath her favorite sweater was enough, or if her grey dress pants matched. But, Brent had said nothing about what she'd been wearing, so she had figured it was fine.

Brent squeezed her hand but kept his eyes on the road. "You're fine, pretty boy. You've been to the place we're going."

She felt the insecurities in her gut, wondering if she was enough. Always wondering if Brent was okay with who she was, even if dresses and skirts weren't her thing. Elliott usually never looked back at when the two were in high school, but she remembered all too clearly how Natasha used to dress.

"I like that sweater you have on. It's my favorite."

Elliott felt her cheeks flush and she smiled down at their tightly knotted hands. "It's my favorite first."

Brent pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "You're my favorite, first."

When they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, Elliott brightened. Brent didn't bring her often, but when he did, she loved it. When she looked at Brent to show him her excitement, he was already out of the car, coming to open her door for her.

She blushed as she stepped out, and before they could head over to the door, Brent pulled her close and dropped a kiss on her lips. It was light and sweet, like biting into cotton candy, and when he pulled away from her, she stood on her tiptoes to continue the kiss.

"We'll never eat if you keep kissing me," he murmured against her lips.

Elliott stepped away with a smile. After all these years, she'd worked on her bad eating habits, and now she adored food more than ever before. All those years of drinking protein shakes, thanks to Mother, had ruined meal times for her. But Elliott was slowly becoming better at accepting herself.

Brent pulled her into the small, darkened restaurant. The hostess brought them to a table next to the stage, where some punk rock band was playing a song. The crowd listening was cheering with the words, telling Elliott the band was a usual.

When she was seated, Brent tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, pleased that her hair was long enough now that he could twirl his fingers in it. He refrained from doing so at the dinner table and leaned back, a slow grin covering his face.

Even now, years after they started dating, Elliott still couldn't control the blush on her cheeks or the way Brent made her feel like she was the only person in room. Like she was valuable and capable and someone who deserved all the hugs and kisses in the world.

"You're okay?" Brent asked as he spread his napkin on his lap, his eyes trained on Elliott the entire time. It made his chest swell with happiness to see her there, cheeks red and body fidgeting under his stare. He loved her, more than he could have ever imagined. He wondered why he hadn't loved Elliott the moment he met her.

"I'm fine," she smiled, smoothing out her own napkin. Before she could ask him about his day at work, the waitress came over to take their meals. Like always, Elliott ordered the chicken tenders and fries, so completely predictable that Brent mouthed the words as she said them, making her cheeks feel hot and giddy laughter escape out of her mouth the moment she was finished.

Brent ordered grilled chicken, and when the waitress left, he brought Elliott's hand to his lips. "We should have just stayed in tonight," he said, his voice husky and sounding too much like he wanted to kiss her, and her bones melted.