Only Yours

12. Sounds Good

Tamina

In the time it takes for Brandon to round the vehicle and open my door, the answer was yes. The recollection of him telling me so through his work, and if that's the case, I can only imagine how it would feel to be in this car at its top speed.

The sudden cool brush of air breaks me from my line of thought, and when I turn to see him, his gaze is boring down on me with warmth lacing them. His palm is extended toward me, the other holding the door ajar enough for me to climb out. Taking it, the heat of his palm pulls a sigh from me, he hitches a brow. "Do you have an answer for me, love?"

He sounds attentive to hear what I've got to say, and it only makes me happier.

"So, I was thinking," I begin while sliding out of the seat, "that you do like to go fast. It makes sense since you own a vehicle like this, and you said you're quite accustomed to it at work."

Dropping my hand to my side once I'm out of the car, he shuts the door and locks it swiftly so we can take our first step toward the structure in front of us. In my peripheral vision, his lip quirks and it stirs the butterflies all over again.

Chuckling, he retorts, "Good girl." And his hand rests on the small of my back like he usually does.

Peering to my right where the green sign glows the strongest, I strain until the words are finally clear behind the screen. In thick olive letters is the name Food Army, and a small giggle comes from me. Brandon's quick to pin his gaze on me and cock an amused brow.

"Sorry, the name's cute." My cheeks flush while my fingers grip the insides of the cardigan pockets. "I wonder what inspired them."

"That isn't the only thing," he muses, his hand working up my back to slide down my arm until he can capture my hand.

I've got no complaints. The more it occurs, the more it grows on me. Although, that merely increases my inquisition over his feelings regarding me, and if anything, I've still got to consider my emotions for him to. I'm certain I like him as far as good friends can, however, I'm sure there are developing feelings and they're enhancing faster with the extended time we share.

"Alright, sweetheart, what piques your interest?"

My body locks into place, and my lips slack. "Y-you. . . you just said—"

I'm confused; one minute the entrance is in front of me, and the next, the view is stolen away to be replaced with a hooded forest gaze. Analysing the situation as fast as possible, it becomes clear my back is pressed against a lamppost, Brandon's body is dangerously close, and his luscious scent is urging me to inhale deeper. To get drunk.

"B-Brandon?"

He breathes out a faint sigh before looking at me again and moving a lock of hair behind my ear. "Tamina, I told you I was going to be the perfect gentleman tonight. . . But if you keep looking at me like that, I'm not going to be able to resist kissing you anymore."

My brain goes static.

"Love, you're doing it again." His voice is soft, and it only affects me more when he inches closer.

I'm breathless, and the longer my eyes are glued to his, the more I'm confident my legs will give in. "What am I doing?"

"Being cute. Your eyes hold so much wonder, longing. . . it's almost irresistible." My eyes drift shut at the sensation of his knuckle tracing the curve of my cheek. "Yes, I called you sweetheart, don't you like it?"

"I do. . . I wasn't expecting it, that's all." I mentally curse the flurry of heat in my cheeks.

"As long as you don't mind, love, then that's fine with me." Glancing over his shoulder, he turns back to me and adds, "Would you like to head in? It's growing chilly."