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).