Five Hundred Miles From Friona, page 10
When the others wander back to the pool, Brandon and I sit down at the table and he starts eating what’s left of his food. I’m too keyed up to eat anything else. “Brandon, were you as shocked as I was?”
He swallows and shakes his head. “I knew he was thinking about asking her. He told me last week.”
I pick up a wedge of cheese and bite off a tiny piece, even though I don’t want it. “I’m really happy for them because they’re so happy, but it happened so fast. I mean they’ve only been together as long as we have.”
“I know, but they’ve known each other all their lives, and Jake said that she was it for him.” He pats my knee, and his hand lingers on my bare thigh. Then he leans toward me and whispers, “He’s in love with her.”
“Well, duh. He looks so happy; so does Rachel. I want to hear about the proposal and what her parents said and all the other details.”
Brandon frowns and picks up his drink. “I want to know what his parents said.”
Rachel and Jake walk up with their plates. As they sit down with us, I slide a couple of my bracelets onto my left arm, making sure that Brandon notices, and then I turn to my best friend. “So Rachel, tell us about the proposal. I want details.”
“Oh my God,” she begins, “he was so sweet. My parents had a big family barbecue tonight and while they were eating, Jake stood up and said, ‘Can I have your attention for just a minute?’” She gives Jake an adoring smile. “Then he turned to me and said, ‘You all know that Rachel has been accepted to Baylor, and now she’s been accepted to Angelo State. She’s decided to go to Angelo State because I’ve accepted a scholarship to play baseball there. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that she loves me enough to give up Baylor.’ He looked into my eyes and said, ‘You’re a beautiful person, Rachel, inside and out. And I never thought that I would be lucky enough to fall in love with someone as special as you, but I’ve always loved you and I want to prove it to you for the rest of our lives’.”
Her eyes are filled with tears, but she continues telling the story. “Then he got down on his knee and held my hand, and said, ‘Will you marry me, Rachel?’ And of course, I said yes, but I was crying and my mom was crying and everyone else was clapping and cheering, then they started hugging us and taking pictures. It was chaos for a few minutes, but it was so cool to have my whole family there when he proposed.”
Wiping tears from under my eyes with my napkin, I sniffle and smile at Rachel. “That’s so romantic.”
Brandon reaches across the table and fist bumps with Jake. “You made ‘em cry. That means you did good.”
Jake takes Rachel’s left hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m just glad she said yes.”
She leans over and kisses his cheek. “I’m just glad you asked me.”
“Well, I want more details later, Rach, when we have a couple of hours to talk.” I move four bracelets to my left arm then get up to gather our empty plates. “Does anyone besides me want to get in the pool?”
“I do,” Brandon says, taking the paper plates out of my hands and carrying them over to the nearest trash can. “Let’s go change.”
Jake and Rachel ride up on the elevator with us, and Jake says they’ll meet us at the pool in a few minutes. When Brandon and I get in our room, he lifts my right arm, counts the remaining six bracelets, takes one off and moves it to my left arm. He then bends down and gives me a soft kiss. “The sooner we get down there, the sooner we can come back to the room.”
“I know, but we have to at least make an appearance,” I reply, hesitantly moving away from him as I unzip my overnight bag. When I take out my bathing suit, self-consciousness constricts my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. Brandon hasn’t seen me in a bathing suit since we’ve been dating and... Oh, my God! There’s a whole box of condoms in my bag! I just stand there, staring at the light blue package that seems to be teasing me, wanting me tear into its contents, daring me to have sex. When Brandon points to the bathroom and asks me if I want to change first, I practically bite his head off. “No! Go ahead.”
Suddenly he’s standing next to me. “What’s… Oh,” he says, looking down at the box, which I refuse to touch or take out of my bag.
I lean into his side and look up at him. “Will you be disappointed if we don’t use those tonight?”
He puts him arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “But I might be disappointed if we don’t use the ones I brought.”
“Brandon, I don’t want to disappoint you, ever, but this is what I didn’t want. I didn’t want it to be planned; I want it to just happen when we’re ready.”
Lifting my chin, he looks into my eyes. “I only brought them because I want to be ready for whatever happens. That doesn’t mean I was expecting anything or planning on it to happen tonight. But a guy can hope, can’t he?”
“Yes. And a girl can hope, too, for perfect timing.” I stand on my tiptoes and put my arms around his neck as his arms circle my waist. “I just don’t want to let you down.”
“You’re not, Leanne; you never have.” He gives me another soft kiss and lets go of me. “You can change in the bathroom; I’ll change out here.”
I pick up my bathing suit and head toward the bathroom. Halfway there, I turn around. “Hey, Brandon?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Being so awesome.”
I hear him chuckle. “Oh, that’s me,” he says dryly. “Mr. Awesome.”
You are to me, cowboy.
Five minutes later, I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure my new black and white bikini covers everything it’s supposed to cover, and wondering what Brandon is going to think when he sees me. Half of me wishes that I’d brought a tankini or a one-piece, and the other half hopes that Brandon really likes what he sees. I open the bathroom door and walk back into the room. Brandon, who is now wearing board shorts and a t-shirt, is folding his clothes and putting them in his bag when he looks up.
His lips part, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a sound. Because I’m a girl, I hope that he’s speechless, stunned, and totally impressed by what he sees. I smile at him knowing that I’m blushing like crazy.
“Whoa. You…look…uh,” he stutters, scowling as he checks me out. “Are you going to wear something over that?”
Well, that sure as hell wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. I look down at myself. “Does it look bad?”
“No, it looks good, too good.” Squeezing his eyes closed, he rubs his hands over his face then he looks back at me. “God, Leanne. I can’t… I don’t…want the other guys to see you.”
“This is the only suit I brought,” I bark rudely, “and I brought it because I thought you would like it.” Purposely ignoring the cover-up I bought to wear over my suit, I slide my feet into my flip-flops, grab a towel and head for the door. “I’ll be at the pool.”
I slam the door to make my point, walk quickly to the elevator, and punch the button like ten times. Hurry up, stupid elevator. I don’t want Brandon to catch up to me. I’m not in the mood to be around him right now.
When I get to the pool, I find more people than just our group. There’s a new crowd around the food and a few other people sitting at the tables around the pool. I don’t see Rachel or Jake.
I stop at the first empty lounge chair I find, lay out my towel and kick off my flip-flops. As I walk down the steps and sink up to my waist in the shallow end, I hear Colton Crawford say, “Lookin’ hot, Leanne.”
“Why are you here?” I ask hatefully, twisting around to see him standing at the edge of the pool with a beer in his hand.
“Jason told us about the party. Thought we’d come by,” he says, slurring half of his words and getting way closer to me than I want. A million miles would be a good distance between me and Colton.
“Well, he wasn’t supposed to invite anyone, and we’re not drinking tonight, so you need to leave,” I snap.
Fully dressed, he steps down into the pool, stands next to me and runs his fingers down my arm. “Ya don’t hafta be so mean, beautiful; we had some good times.” Then he holds his beer toward me and says, “I gotta lotta beer if ya want one.”
I shove his hand away and turn to get out of the pool, but he moves in front of me, blocking the steps. That’s when I see Brandon glaring down at me, oozing fury. Okay, so he’s mad at me, but I’m just as mad at him.
“Move, Colton!” He doesn’t budge; he just stands there licking his lips and staring at my chest.
“She said move, Crawford,” Brandon demands. “And I think you better do it before I kick your ass all the way back to Friona.”
Ignoring Brandon, Colton drags his hand down my back. “Shoulda never let you get away, babe.”
Recoiling from his disgusting touch, I push him sideways into the water and get out of the pool. I look down at my ex, who’s sputtering and wiping his eyes. “Don’t you ever, ever talk to me or come near me again.” I brush past Brandon and head straight to the chaise for my towel and shoes. I wrap the towel around me and start looking for Jason. I find him with Brooke in the Jacuzzi. I’m so in the mood to rip him a new one.
“Hey, Leanne,” Brooke says sweetly. “Want to get in with us?”
“No thanks. I want Jason to get rid of the scum-sucking bottom feeders that he invited to this party. All of them! Now!”
Jason flashes Brooke a guilty look, stands up and reaches for his towel. “Do it now, Jason, or I’m having the hotel manager call the cops,” I tell him through clenched teeth. Brandon comes up behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders. I shake out of his grasp and plant my hands on my hips. I’m pretty sure everyone within earshot knows I’m pissed, but I don’t care. “I’m not kidding, Jason.”
Brooke stands up, too, and dries off. “I’m sorry, Leanne. I didn’t—” She throws a tight-lipped glare at Jason “—know they were going to show up.”
Then I turn to Brandon. “You can help him; I’m going to the room.” As I start to walk off, I turn around and hold up my arms so he can see that I still have bracelets on both wrists. I know it’s childish, but so what.
“Leanne, wait,” Brandon calls after me, but I’m too angry to stop.
I don’t even turn around. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brandon
It didn’t take long to get rid of the party crashers. We told them the hotel manager was calling the cops because they were drinking and they hauled ass out of here. I escorted that asshole Colton Crawford out myself. He and I had a little discussion, so I don’t think he’ll bother Leanne again.
While I give Leanne a few more minutes to cool off, I go back to where the food is, load up a couple of plates, and head to the room. As soon as I get off the elevator, I see her, still wrapped in her towel, sitting on the floor outside our door. Her knees are pulled up, arms circling them with her chin propped on top. I approach her cautiously because I don’t know if she loves me or hates me; at this point anybody’s guess is as good as mine. “Leanne? What are you doing?”
Her teeth chatter when she answers, “F-forgot my key.”
I set the plates on the floor and help her up then I put the card in the slot and open the door. She goes in before me, and I have to prop the door open with my foot so I can pick up the plates and get myself inside. At least she didn’t tell me to leave. “If you’re hungry, I brought some food.” Ignoring me, she starts pulling things out of her bag.
“Getting ready for bed,” she mutters as she takes her stuff, goes into the bathroom, and shuts the door.
She didn’t slam the door, so maybe she’s not as mad now. I turn on the TV and absentmindedly surf through the channels while I eat half of a sandwich. I’m worried that Leanne is going to tell me to get the hell out, and I’m sure in her mind I deserve it. I owe her an apology.
I turn off the TV and toss the remote on the nightstand then I go over and knock on the bathroom door. “Leanne, can I come in?”
The door opens slowly. I see her standing in front of the sink with her toothbrush in her hand. It looks like she’s already washed off her make-up; her hair is hanging in waves down her back, and she’s wearing some gray shorts with a pink tank. She looks beautiful. Damn it, I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve hurt her.
I stand beside her, take the toothbrush out of her hand, and set it on the vanity. Then I pick her up and carry her to the bed where I lay her down and lie down next to her. “I’m sorry for freaking out over your bathing suit. You’re right, I don’t get to tell you what to do, and I’ll try my best not to do that again.” She blinks at me without saying anything, so I keep talking. “I love you so much that I want you all to myself. God, Leanne, you’re so beautiful, and I meant it when I said I didn’t want the other guys to see you.”
I tentatively reach out and run my hand up and down the smooth skin on her arm. Luckily, she doesn’t flinch or shove my hand away. “I regret upsetting you, but my biggest regret is that Colton Crawford saw you in that bathing suit and touched you while you were wearing it. If he hadn’t been drunk, I might’ve killed him, but I think all I did was bloody his nose and maybe loosen a couple of his teeth.”
“You hit him?”
“Yeah.” I put the stupid asshole in his place and let him know that you’re mine from now on. End of story.
A very faint smile shows on her lips. “Did he hit you?”
“No, but he tried.”
She props up on her elbow and picks up my right hand. “Are you okay?”
“I will be if you’ll accept my apology and tell me you don’t hate me.”
“I’ll accept your apology if you’ll accept mine.” She lays her head back down on the pillow, but doesn’t let go of my hand. “I’m sorry I went all psycho on you. I must have this malfunction or defective gene or something because when someone tells me what to do, I get defiant and defensive, then I do what I want to do. But I really need to work on that because what I want to do isn’t always the right thing, like tonight.” Her eyes search mine for a few seconds, then she says, “I love you too much to ever hate you, and I accept your apology.”
Reaching around her, I pull her against me and hold her so she can’t run away from me. Should’ve brought my rope. We lie together for a long time until Leanne says my name.
“Brandon?”
“Hmm?”
“Are we okay?” Her voice is sweet enough to make my teeth ache, along with some other important parts of my anatomy.
Rolling her onto her back, I claim her mouth with mine. I refuse to answer her question with words. I’ve always been told that actions speak louder than words, and she’s getting action. I know I’m too rough, but I want to show her that we’re better than okay. When I press my tongue against her lips, she lets me in to explore her mouth, and her tongue tangles with mine. She tastes like cinnamon. Her leg wraps around my thigh, and when her foot rubs against the back of my knee, I feel my blood surge through my veins and my heart hammer against my chest. I’m losing control. Her mouth has been my addiction for a long time, but right now I need more than just her mouth. Right now, I want her in every way she’ll let me have her.
My hand grips her hip, pressing her closer, and she arches into me as I kiss every inch of her throat and neck. She exhales a soft moan when my hand finds its way underneath her shirt and skims over her breasts. A simultaneous growl escapes from somewhere deep in my throat. I’ve got to get a grip and either slow this down or stop completely before I hurt her or piss her off. I force myself to remove my hand and mouth from her. “Damn, Leanne, this is killing me.” I roll onto my back and throw my arm over my face. I’m frustrated as hell.
“I didn’t want you to stop,” she says, sounding frustrated too, but I stay still for a few more minutes.
When I finally have my shit back together, I look over at her to see if she’s asleep. She’s still lying on her back, her eyes are closed, and her hair is spread out across the pillow like strands of coffee-colored silk. One arm, bent at the elbow, lies above her head on the pillow, the other lies limply across her stomach. She’s so perfect and beautiful that I want to get my phone and take a picture of her. But I can’t invade her privacy that way, so I stare at her until the image is permanently burned into my mind. The image of her is one I don’t ever want to forget, and somehow I know that I’ll still be conjuring up this memory when I’m eighty-seven. I lean over her and kiss her cheek. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, baby.” Her voice repeats my words as she slowly opens her eyes and peeks up at me with a smile. She takes my hand and puts it on her stomach then puts her hand on top of mine, holding it there. “Kiss me,” she whispers, reaching up to meet my mouth. When she bends, my fingers knead into the flesh on her stomach, making her whimper against my lips. As I ease her back down onto the pillow, my hand drifts lower until it finds the smooth, soft skin on the inside of her thigh. Taking my time, I stroke my fingers slowly up and down her leg. I can tell it’s driving her crazy by the way she keeps shifting her hips and gripping my back. Without saying a word, she’s begging for more. I’ll give her what she wants, eventually, because I’m going to make sure we never forget this night.
“Brandon?” she asks, barely breaking our kiss.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry, but I need to get up and get a drink.”
“I’ll get it for you.” I get up and get a bottle of water that’s sitting on the desk. Twisting off the lid, I hand it to her, and she sits up to take a few sips. When she gives it back to me, I down about half of what’s left, put the lid back on and set it on the nightstand.
