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lot more fun than prom.”
    There was a thick silence before Brandon broke it. “Did he take Gina?”
    I shrugged. “Don’t know. I assumed he would, but he was still calling me earlier so who knows?”
    “He was calling you?”
    “Yeah, but I turned my phone off. Can we just not talk about him right now? I’d like to enjoy my night.”
    Brandon smiled and nodded. “That sounds good.”
    We sat in a comfortable silence for a few miles until I felt Brandon’s arm draping over my shoulder. I looked up at him curiously and nearly chuckled at the terrified look on his face.
    “Is this okay?” he asked nervously.
    Brandon was so painfully nervous around women—myself included—and I couldn’t deny that I found it completely endearing. He was terrified of making the wrong move even though he clearly wanted to go forward. I couldn’t help but feel compelled to help ease his nerves, so I accepted his touch.
    “It’s fine,” I assured him, snuggling a little closer to his warm body.
    He inhaled and tensed up before he let himself relax on the exhale. His touch became surer and he rested his large palm on my bare shoulder, rubbing gently circles over my skin. Goosebumps started prickling my flesh and I shivered just slightly, then looked up to his face.
    He was looking down at me with desire, his eyes pinpointed to my chest. I glanced down and saw my stiff nipples through the thin fabric of my dress and I almost wished I had worn a bra. But ultimately, the heated look on his face was worth the slight bit of embarrassment I felt.
    “Vanessa,” he said thickly, swallowing hard and clearing his throat before he finally asked, “Can I kiss you?”
    I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell him it would only lead to heartache because nothing could ever really happen between us. I wanted to say I was on the rebound. But for every argument my head made, my heart and my body disagreed.
    My lack of response was enough make him move forward, but he kept our faces inches apart. It wouldn’t be our first kiss—we had stolen a number of those over the past few months—but it somehow still felt like it was. I was shaking slightly in my seat as I waited for him to close the distance.
    But he didn’t.
    Brandon had an endless amount of patience, not to mention respect. He was waiting for my signal, for a sign that he was allowed to continue. The slight buzz from the champagne was nothing compared to how drunk I was just from the intoxication of his proximity.
    With that thought in mind, I leaned forward to close the gap between us. I pressed my lips softly to his and moaned when he immediately moved to deepen the kiss, totally at ease with taking charge once my consent was given. His groan of pleasure was like music to my ears and I twisted my body to give him better access.
    I parted my lips and softly moaned when I felt his tongue slip past them. We kept on like that for a long moment, until we both had to break apart for air. I watched his dilated pupils as they slid back and forth between my eyes and my heaving chest. But when I leaned forward in hopes that he’d kiss me again, he held up his hand to stop me.
    “We’re home,” he said sadly, like he knew that the instant the words left his mouth, the spell would be broken and I would revert back into my usual cold self.
    Which was exactly what happened. Guilt twisted in my stomach as I moved away from him, waiting until the car completely stopped moving and for Brandon to get out before I let out a long, shaky breath. He cleared his throat outside and offered me his hand, which I took only for the briefest moment before I let go.
    “Brandon—”
    I stopped the moment I saw the look in his eyes as they focused on the house. With a frown, I turned towards whatever he was looking at and nearly gasped when I saw Trey sitting on our front porch.
    “What the hell is he doing here?” Brandon demanded to know. “I thought you weren’t taking his calls.”
    “You were with me