Chapter 56: Ocean Eyes

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Chapter song: Versace on the Floor - Bruno Mars <3

Brett

I could feel the weight of Becca on me as I slowly opened my eyes. Her head was on my shoulder and her entire body was wrapped around mine. A smile stretched across my face as I shifted my head to look at her. Laying here, just the two of us, for the foreseeable future was looking pretty fucking great.

She was still wearing that blue dress that made her eyes look like the ocean -- as if they were going to swallow me up and I would just float there and let them. When she opened the door looking like that ... I said the only two words I could muster up since all my other thoughts were looping around like crazy in my head; like how I felt like the luckiest guy in the world to be there standing before her, or how looking at that dress made me want to take it off.

I groaned. If Becca wasn't laying on top of me I would slap myself for thinking that.

Keeping one arm around her shoulder, I gently removed my other one from where it rested on her stomach and reached across the bed blindly to find my phone. My hand grazed beneath Becca's pillow and I felt its cold surface. I pulled it to my face and squinted against the bright light.

Three in the morning. Great. That's three hours later than when I promised my mom I would be home.

She hated being home alone now, especially at night time. Sleeping when I was out wasn't even an option for her. I promised her I would be back by midnight and I had every intention to keep it. But when I had Becca in my arms ... everything else kind of faded away aside from her. It was reckless and careless and downright stupid but hell, so was I.

Gently, I brushed the hair off her forehead with my hand and kissed her cheek before untangling myself from her body. Standing beside her bed, I looked around for my car keys and from the corner of my eye I saw her move slightly. Her hand travelled across the empty space I just laid in, searching for something -- searching for me.

I'll never get used to that.

"Brett?" She murmured, her eyes still closed. I sat back down on the edge of the bed and grabbed her wandering hand in mine.

"I'm right here, love."

Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked twice before they searched the darkness and she noticed me sitting on the edge of the bed, my car keys lingering in my hand.

"You're leaving?" She whispered sadly. Part of me was happy that she wanted me to stay, the other part of me wanted to lay here with her and never get up.

"It's almost three in the morning, Becca," I told her gently, setting down my keys on her nightstand so I could rest my hand on her cheek, "I need to go back to my house." I was going to say "home" but nowhere classified as home if she wasn't there.

"It's so late," she murmured, closing her eyes once again, "just sleep here." She tugged on my hand softly and I gave in, tumbling back into the bed beside her and pressing her tightly to my chest. I should have left but she was here and sleep made her even more fucking adorable than she already was.

A few more minutes wouldn't matter. I nestled into the bed and Becca smiled triumphantly, adjusting her body to fit into mine perfectly.

"Ten more minutes," I whispered into her hair, kissing her head. Her lips pressed into my neck and my body tensed.

"One more hour?" She countered, lifting her head up to watch my face. As soon as I opened my mouth to protest her lips were there, kissing me slowly. What were we talking about again? I didn't even fucking care at this point.

Becca gasped as I rolled over quickly, placing her body gently beneath mine with her wrists pinned down by my hands on either side of her head. Her eyes were wide as she watched me with her lips parted. She was breathing loudly and I knew her heart was beating just as fast as mine was.

"You don't play fair," I whispered as my eyes wandered down her body, "You know I can't say no to you." She swallowed loudly as my lips traced along her collarbone, my tongue grazing her skin.

"Then don't say no," she challenged after a moment. My head cocked up to stare at her and I found her eyes already on mine, waiting for me to make a move. She was sporting this newfound, sexy confidence and my head was racing with all the things I wanted to do to her.

Now it was my turn to swallow. Loudly.

I peeled my eyes away from her lips to search her face. "What would you like me to do, Becca?" I asked, tracing my finger along the soft lines of her face. I leaned down to brush my lips against her cheek and she bit down on her lip as a strangled breath escaped her parted mouth. I groaned.

She's doing this shit on purpose.

My girlfriend was evil -- placed into my life to slowly torture me to death.

As if she could read my mind, I gasped as Becca laughed and pushed me backwards onto the bed until she was on top of me, straddling my waist with a sultry smile on her face. I froze as she lowered her face down to mine, her hair falling around us like a curtain made of sunshine.

"I just want you to stay with me," she whispered, as if there were a chance in the world that I would ever leave her.

Her eyes searched mine frantically and it hit me that she was talking about much more than me leaving tonight. Becca's confidence was gone, replaced with the vulnerability that came through when she let her guard down around me -- exactly why I had fallen in love with her.

I grabbed her face in my hands softly, idly stroking her skin with my thumbs. I had learned a long time ago that when you find something you love, you hold onto it with everything you have and never let go.

With Becca, I had no intentions of letting go.

I ignored the ache in my chest and kissed her, light and gentle. "Then I'll stay," I murmured, tugging on her bottom lip with mine. Her mouth pulled away as her lips stretched into a smile. My head flopped down onto the pillow as I laughed for absolutely no reason.

"Brett!" She whispered, covering my mouth with her hand quickly. "Be quiet! My mom's going to wake up." She glanced at the door over her shoulder as she pressed down on my mouth to suppress my laughter.

Didn't she know it took more than that to shut me up? I licked her hand and her head snapped back to me as she pulled it away and inspected it. I grinned smugly and took advantage of her hesitation to get the upper hand. I turned my body over quickly until she was beneath me again, her legs still pinned behind my waist.

Becca shrieked as I landed on top of her. "Jesus, Becca, be quiet. I don't want your mom to wake up," I repeated, covering her mouth with my hand as she dramatically rolled her eyes at me.

"I love this dress," I said mindlessly, holding the soft fabric between the fingers of my free hand. "But it would look a lot better --" My phone began to ring, interrupting what I was about to say.

Probably for the best. My mind had been residing in the gutter lately.

I groaned and rolled off of Becca, sitting on the bed beside her as she watched me with her brow furrowed.

"Who is it?" She whispered, curious as to who was calling me this late.

"My mom," I answered, already knowing it was her before I glanced at the screen.

I could feel Becca watching me as I tugged my phone out of my back pocket. Four missed calls from my mother and a dozen texts asking when I was going to be home. I was typing back a quick apology as Becca said something that I missed, being too focused on my phone.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket and glanced up at her. "Go, Brett. She needs you." She tried to hide the disappointment on her face but I saw it in the way her smile didn't reach her eyes. She didn't want me to leave, but she was being selfless.

I love her so much.

"What do you need, Becca?" I asked, standing up from her bed and tugging on my jacket as I watched her. She was still laying down, hair sprawled across the pillow and that blue dress glowing in the darkness.

"What I need," she stressed as she sat up, resting on her knees and shifting towards the edge of the bed, "is for you to call me when you get home so I know you're safe." My skin burned as she placed her palms on my cheeks, her bright eyes on mine. "Promise?" She asked, watching me eagerly.

She could tell me she that she loved me a million times and I would still be doubtful. But when she said things like this ... it showed that she did without her having to say it.

"Promise," I replied, kissing her quickly and wishing I didn't have to leave. I grabbed my car keys from her nightstand and stared at her one final time, trying to remember everything about her like a perfect dream. "I'll see you tomorrow, babe." I kissed her nose before I left, shutting the door to her room behind me.

* * *

"Mom?" I called her name as I hung my car keys on the hook beside the door. My house was deathly silent as I stepped inside, all the lights off.

I walked into the kitchen, expecting to find her standing against the counter with a mug of coffee in her hand. I flicked on the lights and squinted against the brightness. It took me all of two seconds to realize she wasn't there.

The further I walked into my house, the worse the feeling in my stomach became. What if she wasn't here ... What if she went back to --

No. I refused to think that. She promised. He was gone. She promised.

"Mom?" I called again, frustration rising in my voice as I stepped into the living room. Empty. Every room I checked was empty. I slammed my hand into the light switch and stood in the darkness, my thoughts becoming even darker than the room around me.

I sulked upstairs, forcing my feet to keep moving up every step. At the top, I stopped for a moment and looked at the now empty wall -- the portrait of the three of us that had hung there for years was gone. As soon as my father left, I took it down. I told my mother I would store it in the garage to her own relief.

The next day, I took it to the dumpster myself and made sure it was destroyed.

I watched the wall. I thought it would make a difference -- with my father gone, the photo gone, every trace of him gone ... I thought it would make a damn difference. But it didn't. Every part of this house was laced with his fucking memory and I couldn't stand being here anymore.

Dammit, I had to move out. Now.

I held my middle finger up to the wall and walked down the hall towards my mother's bedroom, praying she would be in there.

The door creaked as I opened it slowly, a shitty attempt at prolonging the inevitable. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw my mom laying on her bed, asleep. The television was on but the volume muted. She didn't like the darkness -- that was her nightlight. Her safety blanket.

I walked over to the bed quietly and lifted up the covers to her chin, tucking in the blanket around her.

"Goodnight, Mom," I said softly, kissing her forehead. As I reached for the remote to shut the TV off, she grabbed my hand in hers.

"How was dinner?" She asked, watching me with tired eyes -- not only from lack of sleep. I just wanted her to be happy again, to start over. To forget the past if that was even possible.

Maybe it wasn't. Maybe our past would always be there to haunt us. With time I would start to forget my father, but he would always be there -- mocking me in the back of my mind and reminding me of exactly what not to do.

With my mom, I knew it would be harder. She still loved him, she had loved him nearly her entire life. You couldn't just forget that kind of love. Hell, I would never forget my love for Becca if it ever came down to us being apart. I couldn't expect my mom to forget my father but ... I still hoped she would.

I rubbed my temples to squash out the thoughts of him. "It was great, Ma." She smiled weakly, squeezing my hand in hers. "Don't worry," I told her, "your cooking is still my favourite."

She laughed and I tried to remember the sound of it. I wouldn't take that for granted anymore.

"I shouldn't have asked you to come home, baby. I'm your mother yet here you are, taking care of me."

"Becca understands, Mom. She told me to come home. She wanted me to be here for you," I told her, hoping to ease some of her guilt.

"She's lovely, Brett."

"She's a lot of wonderful things," I replied, smiling instantly at the mention of her.

My mother shook her head as she laughed, happiness entering her eyes. "Get to sleep. It's late," she patted my hand in hers and turned onto her side.

"Love you, Ma," I told her as I kissed her forehead.

"I love you more," she said quietly, already beginning to fall asleep.

I shut the door behind me as I exited her room, the television still playing silently.

Ignoring the empty spot on the wall, I walked to my bedroom and immediately ran and jumped on my bed. If Becca were here, she would roll her eyes. You're such a child, Brett. I could hear her voice perfectly.

I kicked off my shoes and tugged off my shirt, nestling into the soft mattress and imagining Becca here with me. This bed always felt a little bit better when she was in it.

My phone vibrated and Becca's name was on the screen. I forgot to text her that I was home safe. Shit. I dialled her number quickly -- I'd rather hear her voice then send a stupid text.

I'd also rather kiss her than send a fucking kissing emoji but I'll take what I can get.

"Miss me?" I asked as soon as she picked up, before she could even get a word in.

"You left twenty minutes ago, Brett," she said, trying to sound annoyed but I didn't miss the smile in her voice.

I loved how she sounded over the phone. I loved how she sounded in person, too. But over the phone ... there was an intimacy, she wasn't here but it felt as if she were -- like if I closed my eyes she would be here beside me, her head tucked into my shoulder.

"Are you imagining me laying beside you again?" Fuck.

"No," I lied and she laughed. She always saw through my crap.

"How's your mom?"

I propped up my pillow and rested an arm behind my head as I held the phone to my ear with my free hand. "Fine. She was sleeping when I got home."

"TV on?" Becca asked. I smiled at the fact that she knew, that she remembered the little facts I told her about my mom -- that she cared enough to remember and to ask 

"TV on." I repeated in confirmation. "She says you're lovely."

"And what do you say?"

"I told her you're a whole lot fucking better than just lovely."

Silence. She was definitely grinning. Probably biting down on that lip of hers.

"Becca?"

"I'm here," she said softly. If I closed my eyes, she was. Almost.

"No, you're not. But I wish you were." I could hear the longing in my voice. I turned my head and looked at the empty spot beside me on the bed.

"Just hold your pillow and pretend it's me," she joked, her voice turning all high pitched and girly. Adorable. So damn adorable.

I really need her here.

"Is that what you're doing, Becs? Holding your pillow? I doubt it's as handsome as I am."

"It's not," she admitted, the smile back in her voice, "but then again, what is?" Now it was my turn to laugh. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?"

Tomorrow. Saturday night. The first championship game of the season. We needed to win this game to advance further into the playoffs. And we would.

"That depends. Are you coming to my game?"

"Of course I am, Brett."

"Then I'm not nervous." She laughed lightly. I could hear the rustle of her blanket as she shifted in bed.

"It would be nice if your mom came," she said after a moment. I had been thinking about that for a while now, but I didn't want to rush her.

"I think it's still too early," I confessed. "My football games ... They were something my parents did together. It was our family thing, Becca. I ... I don't think she's ready for that yet."

"That's alright, Brett. But you should let her know that when she is ready, the bleachers are still there for her. And so am I."

Now that made my heart do something funny in my chest. Becca's kindness towards my mother ... I would never be able to tell her how much that meant to me.

"You are lovely." I teased, repeating the word my mother had used to describe her.

"Shut up," she said through laughter, making me smile. For the hundredth time tonight, I found myself wishing she were here.

We didn't say anything for a moment. I just listened to the sound of her breathing and pictured her laying in bed, curled up into a little ball with her blanket pulled up to her chin.

"Brett?" She said quietly, her voice heavy with exhaustion as she broke the silence around us.

"Mhm?"

"I love you." I sighed happily. Every time she said those words it felt like that night where we sat in the grass behind my old house. When she told me she loved me for the first time.

"And I love you. Goodnight, my love."

"'Night," she murmured, already nearly asleep. I hung up the phone and placed it on my nightstand, smiling to myself.

Turning off the lamp, I grabbed my pillow and pulled it close, pretending it was her. I fidgeted with it, trying to hold it comfortably to my chest.

Frustrated, I threw it off the bed. A stupid pillow couldn't possibly compete with the feeling of Becca in my arms.

No. The real thing was much, much better.

__

Please tap the star and vote ! :)

Ouu ouu ouuu, thoughts on this chapter? Who remembers at Jenny's party when they were dancing and Brett was about to kiss Becca and his phone rang and it was his mom? Lol, major deja vu in this chapter, too. He really needs to turn his damn phone off.

A big thank you to all of you! Rivals reached #1 in Teen Fiction this week and has been at #2 for days now. So crazy and I feel so grateful. Thank you guys for the loveee xo

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