measuring what their reaction might be to her doing such a thing. I saw the exact moment when the switch flipped and she decided not to care what anyone would think. She smiled shyly at me and I extended my arm to wave her in my direction. She stood up and walked over to me. The bus came to a stop just as she approached me, and I used the momentum to pull her into my lap. She looked at me like she couldn't quite believe she was actually sitting there. I honestly couldn't say for sure at that point if she wanted to be there or not, but she wasn't protesting.
I saw her look back toward Rachel to see how she'd react to her new seating arrangement. I hoped we'd just go unnoticed, but no such luck. Rachel was staring at us with her mouth wide open. Brit's body tensed at the sight of Rachel's shock, and she started to stand up from my lap. I knew if she got up now, I wouldn't get her back again. I clamped my arms around her waist before she could stand up and walk away.
"She didn't have enough room over there," I said to Rachel. I was yelling over the noise, and I didn't care who heard. "I asked her to come over here, and I'm sorry, but I'm keeping her for a little bit." I felt Brit relax slightly, but she still strained against my grasp a little. I gave her a tug, throwing her off balance and pulling her up next to my chest. "Would you please relax?" I said, looking down at her. I finally felt her body ease into a relaxed state in my arms. I turned back to Rachel. "She's good. I'll give her back in a minute."
I'd been holding her by the waist, but now that she'd simmered down, I relaxed the grip I had on her. Not too much, though. I loved the feel of her in my arms, and if it were shocking to Rachel, or Emily, or any of the rest of them—well then they could just go ahead and look. Brit didn't seem to care either. She rested her head on my chest and looked up at me.
"You smell good," she said.
"I loved your song," I said. "I have it on my phone and I've listened to it enough times to know it by heart."
She sat up and turned around to look at me properly. "Are you making fun of me right now, Josh, because I'm not sure my skin's thick enough to handle— "
"I'm not making fun of you, I sort of wish I was," I said. She gave me an exasperated look, but I continued, "I'm really fond of the sound of your voice, Brit. I think it does something to me."
She looked at me skeptically and I shrugged , pulling her against me once again.
"You swear you're not just playing with me?" she asked.
She was so sweet and vulnerable that I almost got mad at myself for making her so damn gun-shy in the first place.
"I'm sorry for the way I acted at the party," I said.
"What about all the other times?" she asked.
"What other times?" I asked, defensively.
"You know, like pretty much every time we see each other when I act nice and you act all brash and thick headed."
"I'll fess up to being a little thick headed this evening," I admitted, "but usually I'm the rational one and you're the one to blame."
"To blame for what?" she asked, looking shocked.
"To blame for making us butt heads," I said. "If you weren't such a man hater, we'd get along just fine."
"I only hate men who are thick headed butt holes like you," she said, turning to poke me in the chest.
I could see the defiance in her eyes, but there was a little softness around the edges of it that told me she almost wanted me to challenge her.
"But you don't really hate me, do you Brit?"
"No," she whispered.
"What?" I asked, even though I heard her.
"No," she said, turning toward me so I could hear her answer.
I took advantage of being face to face with her, putting my hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. I had relived the kiss we shared in that coffee shop so many times, and it felt good to finally feel her lips again. My lips made contact with hers several times before I dropped my hand from the back of her head and smiled down at her. I knew if we
I saw her look back toward Rachel to see how she'd react to her new seating arrangement. I hoped we'd just go unnoticed, but no such luck. Rachel was staring at us with her mouth wide open. Brit's body tensed at the sight of Rachel's shock, and she started to stand up from my lap. I knew if she got up now, I wouldn't get her back again. I clamped my arms around her waist before she could stand up and walk away.
"She didn't have enough room over there," I said to Rachel. I was yelling over the noise, and I didn't care who heard. "I asked her to come over here, and I'm sorry, but I'm keeping her for a little bit." I felt Brit relax slightly, but she still strained against my grasp a little. I gave her a tug, throwing her off balance and pulling her up next to my chest. "Would you please relax?" I said, looking down at her. I finally felt her body ease into a relaxed state in my arms. I turned back to Rachel. "She's good. I'll give her back in a minute."
I'd been holding her by the waist, but now that she'd simmered down, I relaxed the grip I had on her. Not too much, though. I loved the feel of her in my arms, and if it were shocking to Rachel, or Emily, or any of the rest of them—well then they could just go ahead and look. Brit didn't seem to care either. She rested her head on my chest and looked up at me.
"You smell good," she said.
"I loved your song," I said. "I have it on my phone and I've listened to it enough times to know it by heart."
She sat up and turned around to look at me properly. "Are you making fun of me right now, Josh, because I'm not sure my skin's thick enough to handle— "
"I'm not making fun of you, I sort of wish I was," I said. She gave me an exasperated look, but I continued, "I'm really fond of the sound of your voice, Brit. I think it does something to me."
She looked at me skeptically and I shrugged , pulling her against me once again.
"You swear you're not just playing with me?" she asked.
She was so sweet and vulnerable that I almost got mad at myself for making her so damn gun-shy in the first place.
"I'm sorry for the way I acted at the party," I said.
"What about all the other times?" she asked.
"What other times?" I asked, defensively.
"You know, like pretty much every time we see each other when I act nice and you act all brash and thick headed."
"I'll fess up to being a little thick headed this evening," I admitted, "but usually I'm the rational one and you're the one to blame."
"To blame for what?" she asked, looking shocked.
"To blame for making us butt heads," I said. "If you weren't such a man hater, we'd get along just fine."
"I only hate men who are thick headed butt holes like you," she said, turning to poke me in the chest.
I could see the defiance in her eyes, but there was a little softness around the edges of it that told me she almost wanted me to challenge her.
"But you don't really hate me, do you Brit?"
"No," she whispered.
"What?" I asked, even though I heard her.
"No," she said, turning toward me so I could hear her answer.
I took advantage of being face to face with her, putting my hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. I had relived the kiss we shared in that coffee shop so many times, and it felt good to finally feel her lips again. My lips made contact with hers several times before I dropped my hand from the back of her head and smiled down at her. I knew if we
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