Fairytale Love - Becca & Brian(4)

Every few seconds, Becca glanced over her shoulder, furiously scanning  the sea of people who stood around her. Brian was hard to miss. At  almost six foot four, he towered over most people. His height had always  been a source of frustration for Brian, probably because he'd reached  his current stature before they'd even graduated from middle school.  Becca remembered him literally having growing pains all of eighth grade.

Growing up, she'd always found his height comforting and endearing. And  for the last year-she was embarrassed to admit-she'd found it sexy.  Maybe it was because, as an adult, he'd filled out so nicely. Where he  used to be tall and gangly, he was now tall and oh-my-lord,  fan-yourself, swoon-worthy hot.

Stop it! Becca chided herself. She seriously had to lock that kind of  thinking down before coming face to face with the unknowing, unwitting,  unsuspecting recipient of her newfound appreciation of said  panty-melting physique.

Focus on the plan. She needed to get her luggage. Find Brian. Greet him  normally. Then, casually, in an oh-so-platonic fashion, catch up and  visit on the ride back to Harper's Crossing. That's all. No biggie. Easy  breezy.

Spotting a bright, polka-dotted, rectangular, hard-covered suitcase, she  decided that it would be her starting point. If it came around again  and she still hadn't spotted her own bags, then she would know she  hadn't missed them.

"Oh look, dear. Isn't that your boyfriend?" Stella's hand rested on  Becca's forearm as she nodded her head in the direction of the ticket  counters.

Becca's heart was pounding so hard that she feared that there was a very  distinct possibility it was going to pump right up her neck and out her  mouth. Luckily, as a pre-med student, she knew that it was physically  impossible. She turned her head in what felt like slow motion towards  the area Stella had indicated. Sure enough, Brian was headed her way,  easily navigating through the crowded airport in sure and confident  strides.

As he made his way closer, everything stopped. Her world stopped  turning. She stopped breathing. Where mere seconds ago her heart had  felt like it was beating furiously, it now felt as if it had stopped all  together.                       
       
           



       

After a few moments, she began detecting movement in her body. Her hands  tingled as if coming back to life after having fallen asleep. Her  stomach flipped like it was Jack and Jill tumbling down the hill. The  area below her stomach was pulsing as fast as her heart had been moments  before. Hey, maybe that's where her heartbeat had migrated to.

Be normal. Act normal, she reminded herself.

Becca watched Brian brush his light-brown hair off his forehead as his  head turned from side to side, searching the crowd. Where he was easy to  spot, Becca was not. At five foot three-on a good day-and average dark  hair covering her head, Becca didn't exactly stand out in a crowd.

Somehow, Brian always managed to find her though. He used to joke that  locating Becca in a crowd of people was like playing "Where's Waldo". To  which she'd say that it was probably easy for him to play since he was a  giraffe. The ongoing joke had even inspired Halloween costumes their  senior year of high school.

Becca still remembered how shocked she had been to open the door,  dressed head to toe as Waldo on her way to the dance, to find Brian  standing on her porch in a giraffe costume. They hadn't planned it. In  fact, their costumes had been top secret so that the other wouldn't  know. They'd both doubled over in hysterics, laughing so hard that they  couldn't speak.

That's how it had always been between them. In sync. Easy. Fun.

Which was why she'd felt so off-balance this past year since her  feelings had evolved into something more. Not being on the same page  with Brian had been a struggle. During every interaction they'd had,  whether it was a phone call, FaceTime, Skype, e-mail, or text, she'd  constantly second-guessed herself, wondering if she was behaving the way  she always had pre-when-did-Brian-become-so-ridiculously-hot days.

The moment his search landed on her and their eyes met, the tiny hairs  on the back of Becca's arms and neck stood tall at attention. When his  lips parted, revealing perfect, white teeth and the dimple on his left  cheek, Becca's knees weakened. When his deep voice greeted her, she grew  lightheaded with desire.

"Hey, Beckles," Brian said, calling her by the nickname he'd adopted for  her in first grade as he pulled her into a warm embrace.

When Becca was young, she'd had her fair share of freckles sprinkled  over her nose. She'd never liked them, but Brian had done his best to  convince her that they were cool. Part of his campaign had led to the  nickname, and as Becca had grown up, she'd realized that, for a  six-year-old boy, giving her a nickname was the coolest thing ever.

"Hey, Bri." Becca tried to steady her shaky voice as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

His large hand threaded through her hair, holding her head tightly  against his chest. "I missed you," he said as he kissed the crown of her  head.

"Same here." Becca hoped that he couldn't feel her heart pounding like it was trying out for a drum line against his firm abs.

Arousal spread through Becca's body like cream poured into coffee. Soon,  her entire being was filled with it. Obviously, her hormones were not  heeding the pep talk she had given them on the plane ride. Logically,  she knew that Brian's outpouring of affection did not have any sexual  undertones whatsoever. He'd always been very demonstrative and  affectionate with the people close to him, the people he cared about.  And Brian did care about her-love her, even-as a friend.

That's what they were-friends.

* * *

Brian was desperately trying to think about anything other than how good  the soft curves of Becca's body felt against him. His hand rubbed up  and down the smooth slope of her spine as she melted into him. The  pillowy fullness of her breasts pressed against his stomach, causing a  fiery need to ignite inside of him like a wildfire.

He closed his eyes as his fingers grazed her scalp, running through the  silky strands of her long, shiny, dark hair, and inhaled the sweet  citrus-and-vanilla smell that was unique to Becca Sloan. The scent that  had always made him feel happier, lighter, and calm.

Now, her enticing aroma rocketed his body into sensory overload. It  flamed the fires already burning inside of him. His jeans were starting  to get more than a little snug beneath his fly, but he didn't want to  pull away from her before he normally would. The last thing in the world  he wanted to do was draw attention to the fact that anything was off or  different about their dynamic.

This was Becca. He reminded himself of the pep talk he'd given to  himself on the drive over. This was his Becca. The person who always had  his back. His confidant. She was more than just his best friend-she was  a part of him. Without her, the world didn't make sense to Brian.                       
       
           



       

Which was why he had to ignore the fact that, ever since she'd surprised  the hell out of him by kissing him senseless, after he'd made sure that  she'd made it safely back to her room at her sister Haley's wedding, he  hadn't been able to think of her the same way. Or stop thinking about  her at all.

No matter what he did to put her back in the friend zone, she kept  slipping out of it when his thoughts would turn to the way her lips had  felt against his, to the way her talented tongue had explored his mouth,  teasing and seducing him in sensual torment. The soft moans that had  triggered the most primal reaction in his body, filling him with raging  testosterone-fueled hormones.

Only when she'd tried to unbutton his pants had he been able to put a  stop to their unbelievably passionate kiss. Pulling away from Becca,  telling her that "this can't happen" had been one of the most difficult  things he'd ever had to do. For a brief moment, he'd been scared that  she was going to start crying. He'd seen the tears pooling in her eyes.  Thankfully, she'd mumbled something incoherent about a lobster and  flopped on the bed, passing out cold.

Now, as he stood in a crowded airport, people bumping into him as he  held his friend, he knew he needed to pull away from her again. The  problem was that, any time they'd gone a long period without seeing each  other, he'd always given her long hugs. So he had a decision to  make-act a little out of character (which, if push came to shove and she  called him on it, he could attribute to being in a rush or stress) or  keep holding her, and risk the evidence of his body's response to her  starting to poke her in the hip (something there really was no other  viable explanation for, other than the fact that he wanted her … badly).