Brazen Girl by Ali Dean Page 0,26

thought it could be fixed by skateboarding, but turns out it’s not so simple.

My heart races as more people come through the doors, heading to baggage claim or greeting others standing around like I am.

When he finally walks through the door, my first instinct is to charge him. Sprint in his direction and jump on him. I manage to stay rooted in place but my face stretches into the widest smile.

He looks exactly the same, and perfect. His eyes find mine, and I can tell he’s fighting the same instinct to run at me because his pace picks up.

Beck’s arms pull me to him and I go willingly. He squeezes me tight and my arms wrap around his chest, holding on with all I’ve got.

“I missed you so much,” I say against his chest.

He rocks me a little, taking deep breaths. Beck lets me go enough so I can look up at him. We take each other in, all smiles, and then we’re laughing and hugging again.

It’s like this the entire thirty-minute drive back from the airport to Hartsville. We keep looking at each other with stupid grins on our faces.

“My parents are at work,” I tell him as we pull into the garage. Then I laugh at myself. “I don’t know why I just told you that. It sounds like something I’d say to a boyfriend in high school. You know, if I’d had a boyfriend in high school.”

Beck reaches for my hand before I can open the door. “You’re nervous, and it’s cute. Do you know how many times I’ve been nervous around you when you didn’t seem to be at all?”

I bite my lip and open the door. Beck’s only got a backpack and his board. “So, are you nervous right now?” I ask as we walk through the house and stop at the door across from my bedroom.

“I was up until I saw you. Now I’m too damn happy to be nervous.”

I open the door. “This is the guest room. My room’s across the hall. Bathroom’s next door.”

My hands are getting clammy. All I want to do is push him onto that bed and kiss him like my life depends on it. But we haven’t said a single word, by phone or text or anything, about whether that’s going to happen when we see each other. Even seeing him in person and hugging him, I’m still not convinced he’s not operating in part out of pity. If anyone would do that, it would be Beck. My crash and the concussion made me a bit of a charity case.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle as he looks at me with a little furrow between his brow. “I don’t know if I like it when my Jordan is nervous. Talk to me.”

My Jordan. Okay, I can work with that.

But instead of telling him what’s on my mind, I blurt out what I’d been planning to ask him when we walked through the door. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? We have beer, lemonade, coffee…”

Beck cuts me off. “What’s going on, Jordan? I’ve seen you look like this maybe five times ever, and it’s freaking me out.”

My eyes glance out the window before returning to his. I’d forgotten how powerful that blue was.

“The things on my mind, they’re hard to talk about. I don’t want to dump it all on you right after you got here.”

“You know that’s why I’m here, right?”

“What do you mean? Why are you here?”

“To get all of you.”

Those simple words are so Beck. So real, unfiltered, honest. But they don’t really answer my questions or tell me what I want to know. Can I kiss you? That’s the first thing I want to ask. Are you still mine?

There are other things I should say, more pressing topics about where we stand, what we are, if this can go anywhere again even if we both still want that. But fuck it, I’m going with the one thing I really want to know right in this instant.

“What I really want to know, Beck, is whether you’d be down with me kissing you right now.”

Beck doesn’t respond. Not with words. His hands cup my face and his lips are on mine before I can even blink.

Beck

She hums in pleasure as I kiss her with everything in me. She must be crazy if she thinks she’ll ever need permission before kissing me.

Anytime, anywhere, Jordan Slattery, you can kiss me.

I try to tell her that with my mouth and tongue, and when