If I'm Being Honest(75)

I’m not going to try to talk him out of his anger. He’s entitled to be angry. I’m here to bare everything in my heart, and I won’t hesitate until I have.

“Brendan,” I say forcefully. “Our friendship might have begun because of Andrew. But it was only that for about two seconds. Every time I talked to you after that horrendously bad first apology was because I wanted to talk to you.” Brendan opens his mouth once again, and again I cut him off. “No, I have to say this. Last week, I got what I wanted. Andrew asked me to winter formal. And . . . I said no.”

I watch Brendan’s features while I say it, expecting incomprehension or even disgust. Instead, his face remains closed off, expressionless. I wait for him to say something. But this time, he’s silent.

“I said no because of you,” I continue. I feel the tempo of my heart pick up, my pulse pounding in the tips of my fingers. The words feel foreign in my mouth, even frightening. “Because when we kissed, I felt something real. Something I’d never felt with anyone, Andrew included. I think I was feeling it for a long time. Of course, seeing you in your . . . costume”—I glance toward the region on him I have in mind, and I catch the flicker of humor on his lips—“helped wake me up to my feelings. But it wasn’t only that. It was the times you made me laugh when I was upset, or when you told me you liked and even wanted my honest opinions.”

I walk across the room, closing the distance between us. I feel electricity in my nerves.

“All my life,” I say, “I thought love required hard work. It’s what my parents taught me.” My dad’s made me earn his love, and my mom’s chased it without ever reaching it. “But, Brendan, you’ve shown me it’s the opposite.”

I’m close enough now to touch him.

“It’s not hard to be with someone you love. It’s the most natural thing in the world,” I finish. He stands up, his eyes locked on mine.

I lean in gently.

Brendan doesn’t move away, and I kiss him.

Or, really, “kiss” isn’t the word. I fold into him, fitting perfectly into the frame I once found unnaturally tall, running a hand through his slightly too-long, wonderful hair. He kisses me back, his arms encircling my waist and pulling me forward. It’s like when we kissed in the robotics room, except multiplied by a hundred.

Okay, now I’m thinking of kissing in mathematical terms. The nerd is definitely rubbing off on me.

He’s unhesitating. His hand runs up my back, his mouth gentle and relentless all at once. I can’t tell if I’m holding in a breath or breathless. I wonder if every guy with no experience kisses like this or if it’s just Brendan.

He withdraws, but his hands remain holding my waist tightly, not letting me go. “What’s . . . happening right now?” His voice holds genuine confusion edged with exhilaration.

I press a kiss against his neck. “I just told you I want to be with you,” I say, uncertainty tugging at my tone. “If you don’t want to be with me, then I guess I’ll go . . .” I start to turn away.

Brendan laughs, catching me by the elbow and pulling me back.

“You’re joking, right?” he asks.

I don’t say anything. Obviously, he’s kissing me, which isn’t nothing. But I just vomited my feelings to him in one long, acrid outpouring, and he’s said nothing in return.

The humor fades from Brendan’s expression, and he gently brushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’ve been fighting feelings for you for a while, Cameron,” he says. “Fighting because of what you did to me years ago and because everyone knows you’re the unattainable Cameron Bright, and I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But it’s been a losing battle.” I’ve never heard this intensity in his voice, not even in our first conversation. His eyes, lit with perfect clarity, fix on mine. “I remember when I realized I felt this way about you. You were ordering Grant around in the library. And trying terribly, I have to add, to drop references to Link from Zelda.”

“Don’t you mean,” I say, not suppressing a smile, “boy-Zelda?”

“How could I forget?” Brendan asks wryly. “I thought it was obvious how I felt when I asked you out on a date.” Warmth swells in my chest. It was a date! “Then you practically encouraged me to hook up with Eileen Roth, and I got confused. I’ve been trying this week not to pressure you into anything you didn’t want. But I’ve known what I want for a long time.” His voice drops to a murmur. “Don’t ever doubt this, Cameron. I’m crazy about you. You, with your fierce intelligence and extraordinary talent. You, with your uncompromising opinions. And I want you to know it. I’m desperate for you to know it.”

I hardly even process his words. In the next moment, he’s kissing me.

When I went for Andrew, I planned everything consciously, even calculatingly. I tried to find and design the perfect thing to say for every moment. Nobody’s ever bothered to figure out what would be the exact right thing to say to me. What I need to hear.

Nobody until Brendan, who just did it effortlessly.

I draw us both toward the bed. Brendan follows, his lips remaining on mine. He breaks off when the backs of my legs touch the comforter.

“Cool, bye now,” he says in a terrible imitation of me. His hands slip lower on my back.