Fairytale Love - Becca & Brian (30 page)

Relief flooded through her. It felt so nice for someone else to make the executive decision.

“Okay.” Becca nodded and followed her mom out of the booth.

As they made their way to the front, Becca could feel the attention of the dining room shift towards her.

Then, like the Supermom she was, Sandy wrapped her arm around Becca’s waist and she smiled brightly to all the diners as she led Becca out of there. Seriously, her mom was Supermom. If she hadn’t been there to save her, Becca would have probably been a blubbering mess by the end of the show.

She just wanted to go home, go to bed, and stay there.

She just had to make it to her mom’s car. Then she was home free. As they pushed through the doors, Becca ran smack-dab into a solid chest. Before she even opened her eyes to see who she’d collided with, her body knew.

It was Brian.

* * *

Rushing into The Grill, Brian ran right into Becca and Sandy. Literally, Becca face-planted into his chest. His arms automatically wrapped around her, and when she looked up, he saw tears pooled in her brilliant, blue eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as she pulled away from him.

When she didn’t answer him, Sandy smiled and patted his arm. “I was just taking her home. She’s tired.”

“I can take her.” Brian didn’t know what was going on, why Becca hadn’t answered him. Why she was crying.

But he was going to find out.

Sandy didn’t say anything. She just looked over at Becca, and Brian saw the look of protection flash in her eyes. Not in an obvious way. To someone else, it would just look like Sandy was waiting to hear what her daughter was going to say, but Brian knew that look. It was the same one Becca got when she felt like she needed to take care of or protect someone.

Brian hated the way that felt. The Sloans had always trusted Brian.
Always
. In fact, when Becca and Brian were seniors, Becca hadn’t even had a curfew if she was with Brian. Her parents used to say that they knew that nothing would happen to her if Brian was with her.

Why would Sandy feel like she needed to protect Becca from him?

Did she know about what happened last night? Was that why Becca was crying? Had she just been acting like everything was okay in her texts but she was actually really upset?

“Becca?” Brian’s voice sounded harsher than he’d meant it to. It wasn’t anger behind his tone. It was panic. Fear.

Had he ruined the best thing in his life? Had one night, one perfect night, cost him the most important person in the world to him?

She looked up at him and sniffed. He wasn’t sure what he saw in her eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was mad, hurt, or upset. Then it hit him. He knew exactly what that look was. He’d seen it before when, during their senior year, a girl Becca had thought was her friend had stolen Becca’s notes and final project that was worth seventy percent of their grade and tried to turn in the paper as her own.

Becca felt betrayed.

For a split second, he thought she was just going to walk away with her mom and totally shut him out. But, thankfully, she didn’t. She turned and hugged her mom, saying that she was fine and he could take her home.

Sandy asked if she was sure, and when Becca said that she was, Sandy hugged Brian then looked right in his eyes and said pointedly, “Take care of her.”

“I will,” Brian assured her, still feeling like a piece of shit because Sandy had even felt like she had to say that.

“All right. You two call me if you need anything,” she said before turning and heading towards the parking lot. “I’m just going to be decompressing from the wedding.”

He heard the beep of her car unlocking and looked at Becca, whose gaze once again was cast down.

“Let’s go,” he said as he heard people’s voices from inside sounding like they were headed their way. He did not want to get stuck here talking to people who only wanted to talk about the show. He needed to get Becca out of there.

She nodded without looking up at him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and quickly led her to his Jeep, which was parked on the street. After hurriedly opening the passenger door, he heard someone say loudly, “Oh my God, that’s Brian.”

Yeah, he needed to get them out of there.

He was around the car and had them halfway down the street before anyone even made it to the sidewalk. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw that people were taking pictures of them driving away in his Jeep.

“Thank you,” Becca said softly.

“For what?” Brian asked, still watching to make sure no one was following them.

“For getting me out of there,” she said flatly. He knew, technically, that she was thanking him, but she didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Of course. That’s my job. I’m a ninja,” he joked, saying the same thing he had when he’d helped free her from the slide in pre-K.

Becca’s chin trembled as she smiled weakly and then looked out the window.

“Becca, what’s wrong?” Something was
really
upsetting her.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” she said.

Brian was exhausted. It had taken him over an hour to calm his mom down. Then, he’d told her to get him all the financial records on what they owed, including his brother’s and sister’s tuition and expenses. While she’d been gathering that, he’d worked on Mrs. Anderson’s water pump, which had turned out to be a nightmare. One issue after the other had come up and he had to stay and fix it because he’d promised her he’d have it to her so she could get to work tomorrow.

By the time he’d finished the car, his mom was back with the records, which were worse than she’d even known. He had to calm her down—again. Promised her he would take care of it—again.

Then he hadn’t even taken the time to shower or change. He just stayed in his dirty clothes and got to The Grill as fast as he could to find Becca not only in tears, but also Sandy acting strange. And now she was saying she was “fine,” but she wouldn’t even look at him.

He’d never been a big believer in Karma, but he was starting to think that today was going so shitty because last night had been so amazing. Like the universe had to even things out.

They pulled up in the driveway of Krista’s house, where Becca was staying, and Brian went to get out of the car to come around and open Becca’s door like he always did. But before he even made it out of the Jeep, he heard hers slam.

He looked up as she walked right past him up to the front door. He followed her. When they got inside, she beelined it to the fridge and opened it. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, he waited. He wasn’t sure for what, but he waited.

His eyes automatically locked on her round backside and lean legs as she bent over in her denim shorts. From one second to the next, he went from nothing to rock-hard-ready.
Shit.
Apparently his body hadn’t gotten the memo that she was obviously pissed at him.

After grabbing a can of soda, Becca stood and shut the refrigerator door with as much enthusiasm as she’d closed his Jeep’s door. Then, turning on her heels, she spun around and walked past him, bumping him with her shoulder—hard—before plopping on the couch and turning on the TV.

Leaning against the doorway, he asked, “Are you going to tell me why you’re upset? What did I do, Becca?”

She looked at him with what he was sure she meant to be a blank expression, but was
not
blank. “Why do you think
you
did something?”

“Becca…” He was trying to be patient and give her the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t know what was going on, but this was not her. She never acted like this. Like other girls he’d dated. Pouting. Not just telling him how she felt.

Wait
. Brian felt fear as cold as ice run through his veins. She hadn’t acted like this when they were friends, but now they’d crossed that line. Done things they couldn’t undo.

Is that why she was acting like this? Because they’d slept together?

No. This was Becca. She wouldn’t be acting like this unless something was really wrong.

“Becca.” He moved over to the couch and started to sit down next to her.

“Don’t,” she said, reaching out her hand and stopping him.

He froze.
What the fuck?

“Your clothes,” she said, nodding her head at his shirt and jeans.

He looked down and saw that he was covered in grease.

“Just go take a shower,” she said, her voice still sounding upset but softer. “Then we’ll talk.”

“Okay,” he said, thankful that he’d left his bags—that he’d still had in his Jeep from the airport—upstairs this morning when he’d gotten the call from his cousin.

As he turned and walked up the steps to the shower, he was glad that, at least, she was saying that she would talk to him. And a shower probably wasn’t a bad idea.

Y
ou are being ridiculous,
Becca told herself as she stood and paced the living room. With every step, she grew more and more agitated. Irritation and anger mixed together inside of her like Vodka and cranberry to create the perfect, jealous Cosmo.

No matter how many times Becca had told herself to stop acting like an overly possessive girlfriend, she just kept on playing the role like she’d been born for it. She shook out her hands in front of her, hoping she could just shake the jealously off.

Then she waited for a moment to see if it worked. Nope. She still felt like punching a wall. She had to pull herself together. She only had a few minutes until Brian got out of the shower and would be down here wanting to talk.

Brian hadn’t even done anything wrong, yet she just kept getting more and more mad. She felt like the anger was boiling up inside of her like a pressure cooker that was about to explode, which made no sense.

Why was she acting like this?

Why was the thought that maybe Brian and Brooklyn had had sex, making her this crazy?

If they had, then…they had. Nothing she could do would change that now. And she didn’t even know
if
they had.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she just needed to
know
one way or the other. Maybe then she could put it out of her mind.

Knowledge is power
, she told herself.

Yeah, and ignorance is bliss,
a little voice in the back of her mind chimed in.

Ignoring the second statement, she decided to focus on getting the information she needed, before she lost her mind.
Knowledge. Yep. Good plan.

As she took the steps two at a time, she felt like she was on a mission for her sanity. She had no idea if it was going to be a successful mission, but it was worth a shot.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she practically sprinted to the bathroom door. Her hand flew up and knocked on the wooden surface, but since the door wasn’t latched, it slammed opened.

“What the the—” Brian looked over his shoulder from where he stood with his back to her, shirtless, his hand on the knob turning on the spray of the shower.

Becca’s mouth went dry as she took in the rippling, smooth muscles of his broad back. Her body instantly responded to his half-naked appearance. Her knees went weak, the buds of her nipples tightened, and a shudder rolled through her from head to toe.

“Becca?” Brian turned, looking confused.

And why wouldn’t he be?

She’d been acting like a crazy person since he’d picked her up from The Grill. Which was why she needed to ignore the way her body felt, ignore every cell in her body screaming at her to walk over to him, pull the erection she could see bulging out of his pants, get on her knees in front of him, and take him in her mouth (which was strange because she’d never done that before). She was a blow-job virgin. But as much as she wanted to pop her BJ cherry, she knew that was not what she needed to do.

What she did need to do was just ask him, flat out, what had happened in Mexico, behind the closed door of their bungalow.

Yes. She needed to ignore her impulse and clear the air. Then, hopefully, she could circle back to her impulse, because mouthwateringly tasty wasn’t even the tip of describing Brian’s iceberg.