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But nowhere near as nervous as I thought I’d be the closer he gets, taking huge steps toward me that only a man his size can.
The overtired look I know we both share after a sleepless night vanishes from his features once he spots me.
I wonder what kept Brandon up all night, and yeah. A little part of me is wishing and hoping it was for the same reasons I couldn’t sleep.
But I’ll never know for sure.
It feels like everyone else at the airport disappears when our eyes lock again, and for a moment, it really feels like it’s Brandon and me alone.
My body reaches for his out of need as well as reflex.
I’ve thought about the last time he held me over and over again for the past six months. And once I feel those huge, strong arms around me again, it really does feel like we’re picking up right where we left off.
He feels better than I remember, and the smell of his cologne mixed with freshly laundered and pressed clothes is enough for me to want to hold onto him forever.
My dad’s here too, though, and it isn’t long before the moment’s broken up by him getting in between us. Not wanting to miss out on another chance to embrace his best friend too.
I should be annoyed by that, but the look Brandon shoots at me are the same eyes he gave me during the video chat I interrupted, and I’m shivering inside once those deep brown eyes smolder under his cocked brow.
They’re broadcasting a helluva lot more than the few plain words he says, which I’m certain are only because of my dad hovering so close.
It’s great to see dad so happy for a change too, and when he announces dinner plans and everything else he wants to spend time doing with his best friend, I zone out and walk on a little ahead.
I didn't want to look like a third wheel, but I also needed to get some air in my lungs.
My chest freezes up and gets stiff whenever Brandon’s close to me, and my arms and hands only want to reach out for him to hold me again.
Not a good look with my dad so close, and I notice he’s still studying his best friend’s behavior whenever he’s close to me.
A dad’s protective instinct or just my imagination?
Every time I catch dad eyeing Brandon, he only smiles and changes the subject.
I offer to drive us home so dad and Brandon can chat, but dad insists on driving us back.
Brandon’s in front, with the front seat far back, so he fits. He’s practically in the back seat with me anyway.
In between my dad fires a million questions about what he’s been up to, and Brandon casually shifts any and all conversation back to me.
Asking me how I’m doing and how life after college is treating me, anything to interact with me.
But dad gives him a sidelong stare during the silence that follows Brandon asking me if I have a boyfriend.
It throws me, too. I mean, nobody’s ever asked me that, for starters.
And my dad’s quicker to ask Brandon why he’d need to know that, and I can’t help feeling mad that I don’t even get to tell him I don’t have a boyfriend.
Never have and probably never will.
Especially if my dad’s always gonna be so defensive whenever the topic comes up.
I thought Brandon coming to town was supposed to be a good thing, but my dad seems different around his oldest pal now that he’s actually here.
“Just making conversation,” Brandon says in a low tone, shifting his gaze out the window as my dad’s expression continues to shift from being happy to see his oldest friend to being annoyed.
Suspicious again.
There’s virtually total silence for the rest of the ride home, and I half wonder if dad’s asking himself the real reason why Brandon’s decided on a surprise visit.
