Becca

"Just ... try not to be embarrassing, please?"

My mom turned around and gave me a stern look while placing her hand rigidly on her hip. "When have I ever done anything to embarrass you, Becca?" She asked innocently, genuinely forgetting the dozens of times she had embarrassed me in Brett's presence. I merely laughed and continued arranging the plates around the dinner table.

My mom opened the grill and the smell of meat wafted into the kitchen, making my stomach rumble with anticipation. Brett would be arriving any minute now for dinner and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest -- and not in a good way.

"No embarrassing stories from my childhood. Got it?" I was being annoying, I knew it, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and my mother didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to not humiliating me.

She eyed me as she flipped the burgers on the mini grill on top of the counter. Satisfied, she closed the lid and wiped her hands on her white apron, the one I bought her for Mother's Day last year, and walked over to me.

"Becca, I promise I won't embarrass you." She said gently, grabbing a fork from my hand and placing it on the table beside a plate I had laid out.

"Tonight is important to me, Mom. Brett is a big part of my life now and so are you. I just want you two to get to know each other."

For the past week, I had been spending time at Brett's house with him and his mother. Slowly, she was healing. Brett told me that she was beginning to go back to her old self and shed some of the usual sadness that lingered around her. My relationship with Brett's mother was just that -- a relationship. I wanted Brett to have that with my mom, too.

"It's important to me as well," my mom replied, kissing my forehead. "I know how much tonight means to you, love. This is a big step. I'm proud of you." She smiled at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I never thought I'd find someone like him, Mom." I told her honestly, fidgeting with the fork on the table and re-straightening it.

My mom laid her hand on top of mine and smiled at me gently before saying, "I always knew you would, honey."

I took a deep breath and told my mom what had been weighing down my heart for months. "Watching you and dad split up destroyed any hope I had for love in the future. I was afraid, Mom. Afraid to be with Brett but ... he changed that. He changed me. I didn't expect to fall for him but ... here I am. I love him, Mom. I just want everything to work out."

My mother wiped a tear from under her eye as she walked around the table to me. She grabbed my hand in her own and reached up slowly to brush her thumb against my cheek.

"I never wanted you to be fearful, Becca," she hugged me tightly as she spoke, "mine and your father's fate is not your's and Brett's."

"I know that now," I replied, hugged her back. The door bell rang suddenly and my mother let me go.

"That's him," I declared, eyeing the kitchen to make sure everything was in place as I chewed on my lip. My mother laughed at my own nerves and smoothed my hair.

"I'll be on my best behaviour." After a moment, she added with a sly smile, "Get the door, Becca. It's not polite to leave him waiting." She walked back to the grill to gather the food as I steadied my heart and walked down the hallway to the front door.

Grabbing the knob, I tugged the door open and sighed contently at the sight of him.

"Hey beautiful." He winked at me as he leaned casually against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

Brett was wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with the top button at his neck undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His face was freshly shaven, his hair brushed back and still slightly damp with a single strand falling over onto his forehead. His bright eyes were on me as I slowly took him in. He was grinning widely when my eyes traveled up to his face after a moment.

"Like what you see?" He teased, taking a step toward me and placing his hands on my waist. Brett lowered his head to mine and whispered in my ear, "I know I do." I shivered as his breath blew onto my neck. Chuckling satisfyingly, Brett kissed my lips softly and I savoured the taste of his mouth. He pulled away too soon and walked past me into the hallway.

I stood there frozen for a moment before my senses came back to me, then I turned around and shut the door. Brett was watching me silently, his eyes checking me out.

"Smells great in here," he said absentmindedly. His hands were shoved in his jean pockets and his gaze was not-so-subtly lingering on my chest. My mom had insisted on dressing up for the occasion, resulting in me wearing a pale blue, off-shoulder dress that hugged my waist and flowed to my mid-thigh. From the look on Brett's face, I knew he approved.

"My mom's been cooking and baking all day," I admitted, swallowing the lump in my throat as Brett's eyes finally met mine. "She's very... excited." Excited was an understatement -- my mother was practically ready to plan our wedding and accept Brett as my husband if that were the case.

"And you?" Brett asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He was still smiling as he spoke, his eyes shining brightly as they searched mine.

"I just want you two to get to know each other, Brett. It's important to me."

"It's important to me too, babe." Brett replied, grabbing my hands in his and kissing my forehead. I bit my lip and Brett instantly pinched my bottom lip between his two fingers, tugging it downwards and away from my teeth. "You're nervous," he remarked. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't hide anything from him.

"You know that my mom is very..." I searched for the correct word,"... outspoken."

"Outspoken?" Brett repeated, his eyes dancing with silent laughter.

"She has a habit of purposely making comments to embarrass me." I paused. "She enjoys watching me squirm," I added, shrugging as I spoke.

"Something we have in common, then." Brett smiled mischievously and I playfully slapped his shoulder.

"Stop," I warned, finally realizing that Brett and my mother together could be a deadly combination. "Do not encourage her, Brett. Promise me."

"I won't," he said quickly, but the gleam in his eyes told me otherwise.

"Promise me." I stressed, removing my hands from his and crossing them firmly over my chest. He instantly pouted.

"I promise," he said finally, reaching up impatiently and grabbing my hands back in his own. I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed him quickly. Before I could pull away, Brett grabbed my face in his hands and held it to his, gently kissing my bottom lip.

"That dress looks amazing on you, Becs." He murmured into my skin as his lips trailed down my neck, making my breathing increase rapidly. For the past week, it was a struggle for us to keep our hands off each other. Especially when Brett got into these playful moods ... he was irresistible. But I shook my head and reminded myself that my mother was just down the hall and willed up the nerve to gently place my hands on his chest and push him away.

"My mother is down the hall, Brett." I warned, giving him a pointed stare as he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"I was only complimenting my girlfriend's beauty," he teased.

I cocked my head to the side and said sarcastically, "Oh, that's what you were doing?"

Quickly, Brett took a step forwards and pushed me backwards with his body until my back touched the wall behind me. Bracing both his hands on my hips, his eyes trailed up my body slowly as he leaned into me. I could smell his woodsy cologne and the warm scent of cinnamon that always lingered on his skin. My breath caught as his face hovered in front of mine, an inch between us that sizzled with building tension.

Brett's face slowly moved towards mine and just as he was about to kiss me, just as my body begged for more, he smirked and took a step back.

"I'll save my true intentions for when we're alone," he whispered, nearly breathless. Removing his hands from my waist, he winked at me before turning and heading down the hallway and into the kitchen. I hadn't missed the fire burning behind his eyes as he spoke.

I stood there for a minute with my back pressed against the wall, my chest rising rapidly. I sighed at my own failing willpower and promised to get him back for this later.

Down the hallway, I could hear Brett chatting with my mother, commenting on how great the food looked and working his charm to the max. I smiled to myself. My mother doesn't stand a chance.

I smoothed out my hair, squared my shoulders and walked down the hallway. I paused at the doorway to the kitchen as I took in the view before me.

At the counter, they were standing side by side. Brett was holding up a plate in both hands as my mother used a spatula to place the burgers onto it. A smile decorated her face as she laughed at something Brett said, the two of them chatting easily.

"I wanted to make something fancier, but Becca insisted burgers are your favourite." My mother said as she closed the grill and unplugged it from the wall, turning to Brett and giving him an easy smile.

A confused look flickered across Brett's face for a moment before he replaced it with a smile. "I didn't think she noticed," he replied, seeming genuinely surprised that I had picked up on something so little.

My mom laughed as she lifted the grill and placed it beside the sink, leaving the washing for later. "She kept pestering me everyday to make sure I made all your favourites tonight."

And with that, I cleared my throat and walked into the kitchen while glaring at my mom. She didn't even last five minutes.

"Becca!" She exclaimed, slightly surprised to see me standing there. Surely, she had no idea I was eavesdropping, which is why she had made that comment to begin with.

I glanced at Brett and he was smiling smugly, already letting the tidbit of information my mom gave him get to his head. Lovely.

"I see you two are getting along," I commented, grabbing the plate from Brett's hands and placing it in the centre of the table.

"Your mom was just hinting at your obsession with me," Brett said casually while leaning a hip against the counter. My mother laughed loudly and I glared at him even harder.

My mom sat at the table and gestured at the two empty seats in front of her. "He's just kidding, darling. Shall we eat before the food gets cold?"

"We shall," Brett replied, winking at me again as he continued, "I wouldn't want to ruin my favourite meal." His arm snaked around my waist as he pulled me to the table and I fought the urge to slap it off. Secretly, I was loving this -- Brett and my mom getting along, the silly banter ... everything felt like it was slowly falling into place.

Brett held out my chair for me, smiling innocently as he waited for me to take a seat. He looked so handsome tonight, more so than he usually does, that it was impossible to even pretend to be upset with him.

I took a seat as my mother began piling food onto our plates. Brett sat beside me and placed his hand on my lap under the table, his fingers finding my own and squeezing reassuringly. I turned my head to glance at him but he was already watching me, his face lit up with a breathtaking smile.

"So, Brett, Becca tells me you're captain of the football team?" My mother began. Just like that, the two of them fell into an easy conversation.

I sat back and watched them -- watched the two people I loved most talk and share laughter as if it were the easiest thing in the world. I eyed the fourth and empty seat at the table and imagined Brett's mother sitting there someday, the four of us having dinner together.

I smiled and it didn't leave my face until well after dessert.

* * *

"That went well," Brett commented, holding my hand as we walked down the hallway towards my bedroom.

"My mother loves you."

"I'm not surprised. Most people do," Brett shrugged, laughing a moment later as I rolled my eyes. The most annoying part was that he was right. He just seemed to have that effect on everyone.

I stopped outside my room, staring at the closed door and suddenly feeling nervous.

"I've never seen your room before," Brett said, his voice breaking the silence that lingered around us.

"It's nothing special," I replied nervously, fidgeting with Brett's fingers.

"I'm guessing there are books everywhere and ..." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he pretended to think. Finally, he held up a finger and said, "A shrine dedicated to me in the corner with photos of my face covering the wall."

I reached out playfully and pinched the bare skin on his wrist, to which he laughed. "One of those is correct," I replied, stressing the first word.

Brett's mouth and eyes opened wide in shock. "You have a shrine for me? I knew it, you are obsessed."

"I meant the books!" I yelled, giggling as I leaned forward to shove him over. He barely moved an inch.

While Brett laughed hysterically, I opened the door to my bedroom and walked inside, taking a seat in the middle of my bed and crossing my legs before looking up at him.

Brett was still standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes traveled through the room. Aside from my bed, there were two dressers, a small desk nestled into the corner and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase with books spilling out of it. The curtains on the window covering the wall to the right of my bed were open, faint light from the setting sun warming my room in a pale glow.

Slowly, Brett took a step into my room and it was like the air got surged with a bolt of electricity. I watched his every move from my spot on the bed. He walked up to the bookcase and ran his hand along the worn-out spines of the books.

"You've read all of these?" His voice was full of awe as he spoke, his eyes never leaving the hundreds of books crammed onto the shelf.

"Most of them more than once," I admitted, shrugging before remembering his back was to me.

Tearing his gaze away from the books, Brett walked to my desk and gently picked up the picture frame on it that held a photo of me as a child with my mom, both of us smiling into the camera on my fifth birthday. I had cake smeared all over my face and a party-hat sat on the crown of my head.

Brett murmured something I couldn't hear as he placed the photo back onto my desk before walking over to the window and staring out at the orange sky.

"What is it?" I asked after a moment when he still hadn't moved.

His head spun towards me quickly as if remembering I was there before he smiled and sighed. "Nothing," he said, his voice sounding far away.

I patted the bed beside me and Brett's grin grew wider before he ran and jumped onto the bed like a child. He landed on top of me, pushing me over backwards as I shrieked. My head hit the pillow and Brett was laying beside me grinning, leaning on his elbow with his head propped onto his knuckle, hair falling over his forehead. I reached out slowly and pushed it back, savouring the feel of his skin on mine.

"I know that you love burgers because you always eat them at lunch," I blurted out suddenly. Brett's eyebrows rose as he watched me, a humorous smirk on his face. "And that you always watch me when you think I can't see you, but I can." His eyes widened as he reached up nervously to rack his fingers through his hair. I smiled at that. "And that you run your hands through your hair when you're nervous."

"What else?" He whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I noticed that your eyes always darken after you kiss me. How you gently grab my face in your hands before every kiss. I noticed that the world seems a little more right whenever you smile and how you look into the stands for me before every football game, just to make sure that I'm still there."

Brett stared at me, completely bewildered. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"You're surprised," I concluded, tracing my finger along his jawline. "Why?"

"I -- I ..." He stumbled over his words before quickly shaking his head. "I guess I never thought that you paid so much attention to me."

I scoffed. Was he being serious?

"I notice a lot of things about you, Brett. And I love every single one of them."

"I notice a lot of things about you too, love." He told me, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger as he spoke.

"Like what?"

"Like how your cheeks turn pink every time I kiss you or how you bite your lip whenever you're nervous. I notice how you get lost in thought a lot and stare off into space until you remember that I'm here," he tapped my head gently, smiling to himself. "How you still look away shyly whenever I undress in front of you. How you sigh happily whenever I hold your knee while I drive and how your face breaks into that little, shy smile every time you tell me that you love me."

I stared at him, completely speechless. I never even realized ... never thought that he ... that he picked up on all of that.

"Want to know what my favourite one is?" He asked softly, blinking down at me. I nodded slowly and he continued. "How you curl into a little ball when you're asleep and you always, always, reach out to grab my hand."

"I do?"

Brett smiled and my heart ached in my chest. "You do. The first time you did that was when you fell asleep on my couch that night you came to the hotel to tutor me." He paused for a moment then whispered, "That was when I first realized that I loved you, Becca. That night ... everything changed."

The night Brett was referring to was months ago ... maybe two months after we met. He had loved me all this time ... for so long and I had remained oblivious.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked curiously.

"You weren't ready to hear it, Becca. I knew how you felt about love and I ... I didn't want to scare you away. So I sat back. I waited for you overcome your own fears -- I waited until you were ready. It was so hard. Everyday, all I wanted was to tell you how I felt but ... I needed you to be ready to love me, too."

"I had no idea," I whispered, thinking back to how blind I had once been. Brett waited all that time, hiding his true feelings for me for my own benefit. Even before I even realized how I felt for him, he had loved me and only wanted the best for me.

"Don't feel bad, baby. I loved watching you slowly open up to me. And when you were finally ready ... it was worth the wait, Becca. All the lows were worth it just to be here with you right now." I smiled as my eyes welled up with tears before I kissed him, holding his face in my hands and pulling it down to mine.

Brett. He had tried to help me that very first day in the hallway -- before I even knew him, he was already looking out for me, trying to protect me. I didn't know how I had won the heart of someone so beautiful, but I would never stop being grateful.

"Thank you," he said after a moment, his finger tracing lazy circles on my bare shoulder.

"For what?" I murmured, tilting my head to the side to stare up at Brett.

"For inviting me tonight. For being you. For loving me. For ... choosing me." He placed a kiss on my forehead before laying on his back and pulling me to his chest. I craned my neck upwards