Once again, the sirens were going off, but unlike before, he was seriously considering silencing them. He had no idea where this might be going. Nor did he know where he wanted it to go.
They’d talked for hours tonight. She’d offered to turn on the television, but he passed, preferring instead to talk. He wanted to talk—get better acquainted with someone—something that had always made him so uncomfortable before, not because he was in anyway inept at holding a conversation but because he feared enjoying such conversations. That would mean enjoying said company, which in turn would lead to wanting to spend more time with anyone, which ultimately meant attachment. But tonight he’d wanted it, and he’d enjoyed every minute of it. It was insane. Though, in hindsight, she’d done most of the talking.
At one point, he’d been lying there in her bed with her snuggled up next to him, wondering what the hell he was doing there. How the hell did he let this happen? And then she’d kiss him, and all those doubts about whether or not he should get up and run from there as fast as he could, would go away.
He could no longer say he hardly knew her anymore. Tonight they’d talked in depth about her family, her career, and her friend Janecia, the one he’d seen her having dinner with at Gaslamp. The only significant part of her life she merely brushed over was her late husband, who’d passed away suddenly last year in a motorcycle accident. Brandon picked up on the fact that she hadn’t planned on talking about all that, until he asked her about the last relationship she’d been in.
Judging by how emotional she’d gotten when the subject of her grandpa was brought up and the fact that she’d admitted to not dealing well with loss, Brandon didn’t push. It was one thing to see her cry over her grandpa, but he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about seeing her cry over a guy she’d obviously been in love with, someone she’d likely still be with if he were still around. Brandon wasn’t ready to deal with something that heavy yet—he didn’t know if he ever would be. This whole attachment thing, to anyone, would be completely new to him. If he decided to let it happen, he wasn’t sure how good or bad he’d be at it. Already, he was beginning to feel an unreasonable sense of entitlement to her. Hearing her talk about her feelings for someone else, even if in the past, was not something he’d be looking forward to. So if she chose to never talk about her late husband again, he’d be just fine with it.
He too had been pretty short on subjects he’d rather not talk about. Keeping it as simple as possible, she now knew the basics about him. He had no siblings. Both his parents had died years ago, one of cancer and one in an accident. Regina was obviously as good as he was at picking up on sore subjects, because she’d let it go, not pushing for details.
Brandon’s phone buzzed, and he was almost afraid to check it. Regina had programmed her number into his phone tonight and texted herself so they’d now have each other’s numbers. He’d just spent the last six or seven hours straight with her and then came home only to think of her nonstop. This could very well be her because no one else ever called or texted this late. He was as afraid as he was anxious to see if it was.
He smiled at the envelope and caption: Text from Regina. Clicking on it, he opened and read it.
Just wondering if you’re having as hard a time as I am sleeping. I CANNOT stop thinking about you! =O
Feeling that now familiar smile spread across his face—the one that hadn’t made an appearance this often until Regina—he let out a small groan, closing his eyes. Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing. Having someone in your life that made you feel this good couldn’t be that bad, right?
He sat up and texted back.
Thanks for this. I was beginning to think maybe I was nuts. I’ve been lying here since I got home, thinking about everything we talked about today.
Waiting there in the dark, knowing he was smiling like an idiot, he thought about something. He was living proof that fate could very instantly and very drastically change whatever plans you’d made for your future. Could his life be taking a turn once again—this instantly? And was he really going to let this happen?
His phone buzzed, and he clicked on the envelope.
Well, since it is the weekend, and for the sake of us getting some rest before having to go back to work Monday, maybe tomorrow I can have a sleepover? Popcorn, movies, and junk food until we pass out? No sense in you leaving if you’re just gonna be back the next morning, right? Of course, you’re promise of being a complete gentleman will have to stand. You’re invited to sleep in my bed, nothing else, well, except for what we’ve done already. ;)
Groaning even louder, he brought the pillow over his face and did something even more foreign than his constant smiling now—he laughed out loud. Once again, his subconscious was already deciding for him. Even if he wanted to stop it, which he didn’t, this was already happening.
~~~
After Regina’s late texts last night, thoughts of seeing her again today had kept him awake into the wee hours of the morning. Then later in the morning when he’d woken, the second his brain was awake enough to remember everything that had happened yesterday, he hadn’t been able to go back to sleep.
Knowing the drugstore wouldn’t be open that early, he headed to Walmart for that shower chair, the wrap for her ankle, and the popcorn and junk food she mentioned for their sleepover. Among all the things Regina had shared with him yesterday about herself, she’d mentioned some of her guilty pleasures. Chocolate was on top of her list. She said it didn’t matter what shape or form. It was her ultimate weakness, so he grabbed plenty of things with chocolate as well. But there was one other very specific thing he’d immediately thought of when she told him, and with that in mind, he was now headed to the one place he’d vowed never step to foot in again—La Jolla.