Page 37 of Run, Run, Roommates
“Yeah, I’m hungry too.”
“What, is your oatmeal not keeping you satisfied?” I tease. The light changes and I step off the curb at the intersection to cross.
“Normally it—Brin!”
Tires squeal and I’m jerked off my feet. Everything goes black as my face is buried in something soft.
19
Marco
I catch Brin’s wrist and yank her to me, barely saving her from being struck and pulling us back onto the sidewalk. The car honks while it flies past, but I barely hear it.
That was close. Too close.
I wrap my arms around Brin and hold her tight, her face buried into my chest. I close my eyes and press my lips to the top of her head.
It wasn’t like this with my brother. I’d been too far away to pull him out of the path of the oncoming car. I’d been too far away to do anything, trapped watching the moment that stretched on never ending and simultaneously took less than a heartbeat to change my world.
What if that had happened to Brin? What if I hadn’t been able to get a grip on her in time?
What if all we’d had between us was a single glorious kiss?
I’ve often thought about what life would have been like if Joe hadn’t died. I have dreams where I get to tell him I love him again, where I can hug him. Things that I didn’t do enough during his life.
Brin stirs against me, and I realize she’s talking. It’s slow and soft, soothing words to calm me.
I’m shaking.
Her arms encircle my waist, her hand gently strokes my back.
We stand like that for minutes, hours, forever. Long enough that the hug shifts, and changes, and starts to feel good in a different way.
“Brin,” I croak. I clear my throat and try again. “Brin.”
She pulls her face out from the armpit of my coat and looks up at me. Her hairband’s askew and her hair sticks up in weird places, but those sky-blue eyes gaze up at me in concern.
I hold her gaze while I lower my mouth slowly, carefully, to hers. I love the way her eyelashes flutter and the way her lips part. I love that she’s comforting me. I love the way she fits in my arms.
I love her.
And I have to tell her. I can hear Joe in my head telling me that love should not be denied, no matter what the world says or the risks you take.
So I press my mouth to hers. Brin’s gasp gives me an opening and I take it, sweeping into her mouth and deepening our kiss. She groans, and while we’ve been pressed together ever since I pulled her from the oncoming traffic, it’s entirely different now. I feel lit up from my head to my toes.
Brin’s hands tighten when I pull back. “Don’t say this is a bad idea,” she pleads. “I know it is. But I really, really don’t want to stop this time.”
I take a deep breath and let out a shaky exhale. “I don’t want to stop either.”
Brin grins at me. “Thank god.”
Then her lips are on mine again, and they’re deep, long kisses. Brin reaches up on her tiptoes, and I bend my knees to meet her. She feels tiny in my arms, a little slip I can curl around and protect.
But . . . it’s not exactly comfortable the longer we make out, so when we next come up for air, I suggest going home. Brin nods and I hail a taxi.
In the backseat I pull her into me. My fingers cup the back of her neck and I use my thumb to tilt her face to me. I sip from her mouth, slow, aching kisses.
The driver has to interrupt us to tell us that we’re home. I pay as Brin hops out and waits for me at the door to our place.
