When we finally break apart, I try not to sound like I’m gasping for air, but then I hear Brayden’s heavy breathing…so I decide that I don’t feel as bad.
“Whoa,” he comments, moving his hand to my back, “that was—”
“Yeah,” I agree, feeling a little light-headed, “it was.”
“Is it crazy that I wanted to ask you right there at the roller rink to be my girlfriend again?” he muses, both of his hands trailing down my spine. “Maybe even before that?”
“No, it isn’t crazy,” I say with a guilty laugh, “I mean…I thought you were going to talk about us dating when you dropped me off at my house, but then you told me about my mom’s peanut butter cookies instead.”
He laughs too, except his is mixed with a sigh. “I was going to bring it up, but I wimped out again.” Despite the sky getting darker, I can still see his hazel eyes glinting mischievously. “I guess I should’ve just gone for it though, huh? Instead of avoiding and ignoring each other these past few days, we could’ve been dating and—”
“Kissing,” I finish for him, my gaze drifting to his now-swollen lips. Lots and lots of kissing.
“It sounds like you’ve changed your mind about me being a bad kisser,” he says with a smirk on his face, “am I right?”
I can’t help but glare at him. “Well, I haven’t changed my mind about you being annoying.”
His response is to kiss me. Once, twice, and then a third time. Each of them short, but meaningful, and still breathtakingly incredible.
“How about now?” he asks, his lips slowly leaving mine. “Less annoying?”
“You are way too sure of yourself,” I say, despite my hazy mind. I proceed to jab a finger at his hard chest. “Is that going to be your plan from now on? Every time I say you’re annoying, you’re going to try and change my mind by kissing me?”
He laughs, looking especially smug. “Maybe. Why?”
“Well,” I drawl, letting my hands slide to the back of his neck, “because I think it’s a pretty good plan. You know…for an annoying neighbor, anyway.”
That earns me yet another kiss from him, except there isn’t anything short about this one.
Yeah, I think “a pretty good plan” might’ve been an understatement.
Epilogue
~Almost six weeks later~
“Megan? Can you get another bag of chips from inside, please?” Mom asks while pouring Kyle a glass (and by glass, I mean paper cup) of lemonade. “That third bowl needs to be refilled.”
Anything to get away from this crowded, noise-infested backyard. Why do people think that neighborhood barbecues are fun? They’re not. I actually think they’re worse than housewarming parties; and I’m not just saying that because the last housewarming party I went to was at the Knights’ house—where Brayden and I may or may not have spent a good portion of the time kissing each other any chance that we got.
Ugh, I know that the Knights would be late in coming over…but I didn’t think they’d be this late.
“Meg?”
“Sure, Mom,” I tell her, frowning at Kyle’s impatient bouncing, “just the plain potato chips, right?”
Because I’m not looking to get lectured for refilling it with the wrong kind.
“Here, Ky-Ky,” Mom sighs, giving him the paper cup, “and please don’t try to walk around while you’re drinking it.”
Kyle starts gulping the stuff like there’s no tomorrow, and Mom sets the pitcher of lemonade down on the table before turning her attention to me. “What was your question, hon?”
“Plain potato chips?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that’ll be—” Her gaze snaps right back to Kyle. “Ky-Ky, you’re going to end up choking if you…”
Andddd it’s time for me to go inside.
I leave Mom to correct Kyle, and then I weave past various loud neighbors until I make it into the house. The music and chatter get quieter as I walk toward the kitchen, and I let out a content sigh once I don’t hear any of it at all.
I wonder if Mom would notice if I didn’t go back outside.
The answer is yes, unfortunately.
Instead of rushing to find another bag of potato chips, I pull my phone out from the back pocket of my jean shorts and look over the text conversation I had with Brayden almost thirty minutes ago.
Me: How late is late?
Me: Braydennnn. I’m dying over here.
Brayden: Lol, we’re still at the grocery store. Mom can’t find the “right” hot dog buns. I still don’t know why she waited until TODAY to get them. Smh.
Me: Did I mention that I was dying over here?
Brayden: Sorry, babe. I’m trying.
Brayden: Hang in there.
I sent him a sobbing emoji, and that was the end of it. He didn’t send anything back. The jerk…I wish he’d just get here already.
Gross, I sound like a clingy girlfriend.
I shake my head as I repocket my phone, and then I open the pantry door to grab a bag of chips. Maybe it’ll rain and everyone will have to go home.
Ha, as if.
“So, I hear you needed help refilling a chip bowl?”
Finally.
“It’s about time you showed up!” I huff, the bag of chips in hand as I turn my attention to Brayden. “And just who exactly said I needed help?”
“Hailee mentioned you were in here,” he replies with a shrug, holding up the empty chip bowl from outside, “so I volunteered to help.”
I’m surprised Hailee even told him anything, considering she’s been occupied with her phone this whole time.
“Well, I was going to just take the bag out there,” I say, watching him as he sets the bowl on the island counter, “but thanks.”
“Ya know,” he drawls, taking
