Chapter 20 #3
While Andy sprawled in the recliner, Brian and Tess sat on the couch, a modest stretch of space between them.
She was grateful he didn’t try to close it—didn’t sling an arm around her or brush her hand in front of her brother.
That would’ve made things awkward fast. But a small, shameful part of her wished he had.
The distance was too deliberate, too polite, and she couldn’t quite ignore how much she missed the warmth of his touch.
The whole scene was almost domestic, and the realization caught Tess off guard.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this—an ordinary evening that didn’t involve cleaning, paying bills, doing laundry, or zoning out in front of the TV alone.
Just a shared bowl of popcorn and the easy hum of company.
She didn’t want to read too much into it, didn’t want to start imagining what it might mean if she did.
Still, when Brian laughed at something on-screen, and Andy grinned before shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth, the moment felt...
right. Familiar. Grounded. They even shared the popcorn—though “shared” was generous.
Andy ate most of it, and where he put it all was anyone’s guess. Growing teenage boy and all.
When the credits finally rolled, Andy stretched and stood, brushing popcorn off his jeans. When Tess glared at him, he bent over, picked up the pieces, and tossed them into the empty bowl without an argument. “I’m gonna hop on my computer for a while.”
He disappeared down the hall, his door closing with a soft thud a few seconds later.
Brian leaned back on the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Kid’s got good taste in movies,” he said, his tone easy but warm.
Tess smiled. “He does. And apparently an endless appetite for popcorn.”
“That’s a teenage metabolism for you.” He gave a quiet laugh, glancing toward the hallway before looking back at her. “You want to put on another movie?”
She tucked her legs beneath her, pleased he wasn’t in a rush to leave. “Sure. I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
“Then it’s your pick,” he said, leaning back into the cushions. The slight movement brought him closer, enough for her to feel the warmth radiating off him.
She scrolled through the streaming list, pretending to read the titles while acutely aware of him beside her. The sound of the waves filtering in through the open windows and the faint hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet. When she finally settled on something light, he nodded in approval.
As the movie began, Brian shifted, draping his arm across the back of the couch behind her—close, but not quite touching her. The movement appeared casual, but her pulse betrayed her anyway.
A few minutes in, he leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. “This okay?”
Her voice came out quieter than she intended. “Yeah.”
He let his arm fall lightly around her shoulders, his touch warm and careful. Tess hesitated, then leaned into him. The simple contact sent a slow, comforting ache through her chest. It felt… good. Unexpectedly good. Like remembering what it was to breathe again.
Still, some part of her stayed cautious. Andy wasn’t far—just down the hall—and though she doubted he’d come back out, there was always a chance. She didn’t want to give him a reason to start asking questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
Brian must’ve sensed it too. His hand stayed still, thumb brushing just once against her arm before settling again. After a while, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. It was barely there, but it unraveled something deep inside her.
Neither of them spoke again. They just sat there, breathing in sync, watching shadows flicker across the screen until the credits rolled.
Brian exhaled, reluctantly. “I should probably get going. Early start tomorrow.”
Tess nodded, though her heart sank a little. “Yeah. Same here.”
They stood, and she followed him to the back porch. The night air was warm, humming with the sound of surf hitting the shore and a small symphony of cicadas. The porch light spilled over the steps, catching the faint gold in his light brown hair.
He hesitated, one hand braced on the railing. “Tonight was nice.”
“It was,” she agreed honestly.
Then he leaned in, slow enough that she could stop him if she wanted—but she didn’t.
His mouth found hers, gentle at first, then deepening with a heat that left her breathless.
The world fell away until all she could feel was him—the solid warmth of his chest, the rough drag of the stubble on his jaw, and the way he tasted like mint and something unmistakably him.
When he finally pulled back, his breath brushed her lips. “I should go.”
“I know,” she whispered. But neither of them moved right away.
At last, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on her face. “Goodnight, Tess.”
“Goodnight.”
She watched as he descended the steps and disappeared around the corner of the house toward his car.
Only when the faint sound of his engine starting reached her ears did she let herself take a deep cleansing breath.
Inside, her pulse still hadn’t slowed. The memory of his kiss stayed with her—warm and heady—as she leaned against the door frame and wondered how much longer she could keep pretending this was simple.