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There’s something so normal about having Brandon in our space.
Something so right about the way he slipped into our lives.
Like there was a space open, waiting for him to fill.
We fell asleep, watching TV again, only this time I woke up and forced myself to go to bed. Okay... there might have been a little making out that happened before that, but it was strictly over the clothes. And once Lindy got home from skating, we stopped.
The next morning, the divine scent of bacon and eggs drags me from my bed into the hall, where I literally bump into my daughter. “He cooks...” I muse.
She and I aren’t the best cooks. Let’s just say there’s a whole lot of take-out meals in our weekly repertoire.
“He cooked yesterday too,” she whispers as we creep down the back staircase that leads to the kitchen, where we’re greeted with Brandon in a pair of basketball shorts and another tight t-shirt. This one has the Crucible MMA gym logo on it. The dark green looks incredible against his skin.
We sneak down one more step and see the plates on the counter. “Can we keep him?” Lindy asks before she rushes into the room. “Dude... Mom never makes breakfast.”
“Dude?” Brandon mocks her playfully as he hands her a plate.
“Whatever, big guy. This looks so good. Thanks.” She kisses his cheek. Seeing the sweet, shocked look on his face as he watches her walk to the table might be the moment I remember as the exact moment I fell hard for him.
Harder than before.
I’m pretty sure there’s a word for what I’m feeling, but I push that thought away.
I need coffee before I start thinking that deep.
And maybe a little more making out too.
UNKNOWN
Ashlyn. Ashlyn. Ashlyn.
I give you roses, and you throw them away.
I bring you cookies, and you repay me by letting a man spend the night.
Do you think I don’t see you?
That I don’t know you’re trying to make me jealous?
It’s working. I’m jealous.
I’m also patient.
But even my patience has its limits.
-The Collector
BRANDON
“How long have you been sleeping on the couch?” Declan asks as we grab lunch on Friday.
I crack my neck and admit, “It’s been a few days.”
“Doesn’t she have a guest room? Where the hell do the girls all sleep when she has them over?” He smiles at our waitress as she refills our water and watches me for my answer.
“Her guest room is her home office.” I groan. It’s been a long week. Falling into a routine with Ashlyn and Lindy has been easy. It’s everything else that’s been...hard. “We’re trying to be good with Lindy in the house, so we’ve basically reverted to acting like teenagers who make out whenever we think we won’t get caught. It’s been a lot of over-the-clothes action.”
