Fearful of Falling In Love

The cold air of Calgary seemed to barley effect the inhabitants as they were used to the sudden changes of weather—from plus fifteen it had dropped to minus thirty within twenty-four hours. But it was nothing new. Neither was the snow that seemed to blanket the town. The streets seemed silent, and there was a good reason for that.

Any time there was a flames game the entire town seemed to march down the red-mile or to the dome to watch the hockey game, if not they’d all watch it from the confides of their homes. Hockey had become something larger than life in Calgary ever since they made the cup run and lost in game seven. Everyone knew that we should have one, but they disallowed one of our goals. Still to this day we talk about it, and so does Don Cherry. We all know that the refs screwed up that night, but we knew our shot would come.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been to a flames game.” A petit girl mocked her friend, adjusting her flames jersey as they walked to their c-train stop. Her friend laughed awkwardly, brushing her bangs from her eyes and biting her lip—an action she did constantly out of nervousness or excitement.

“You make it sound like I haven’t seen a hockey game in my life, Jen. Which I have, I grew up watching the London Knights.” Which was true. The girl was from London Ontario and went to every home game the OHL team had. She, over time, developed a close bond with one of the team members, Brandon Prust. She felt a slight sting at remembering the boy and how she showed up at his place, only to have his mother look at her with wide eyes and speak the horrifying words, ‘Brandon plays in the NHL now—he moved three days ago, didn’t he tell you?’

“Yeah, but that’s different Hailey. That’s the OHL, this is the NHL.”

“It’s all hockey, Jen.” Hailey reminded her friend, with a slight roll of her eyes. The small, twenty-two year old looked at Hailey, her jaw ajar.

“You so did not say that. It’s not all hockey! There is such a huge difference, I mean this is the Calgary freakin’ flames!” She exclaimed as they got onto the c-train, earning a couple laughs from people who were already seated, most of them sporting a flames jersey, all off to watch the game. Whether they got off at the Stampede ground or 17th ave didn’t matter, they were dedicated; their hair with fake red colouring, a face painted, and drinks already in hand. That’s Calgary for you on the night of a hockey game. Hailey sat down awkwardly, feeling underdressed. She didn’t have a jersey to sport, and she knew none of the players on the Flames. She only seriously followed two teams, Devils and Pens.

“Don’t worry; we can get you a jersey once we’re down there.” Jenna smiled brightly, sensing her friend’s unease at missing the key piece out of her outfit. Hailey nodded, not knowing if buying a jersey was worth it. She had a Parise jersey, and a Fleury jersey at home, but she highly doubted she would enjoy the flame’s game as much as her friend.

The c-train started suddenly, causing a couple people standing to stumble, cursing as their drinks sloshed over the sides of their cup, spilling onto their hands. Hailey sighed, her brown eyes glancing out of the darkened window, her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms, beginning to chew on her lip once more.

“Dude, stop being so nervous, it’s a hockey game.” Jenna grumbled, smacking her friend on the back of her head.

“Hey, respect your elders.”

“You’re only older than me by one year.”

“But if we’re speaking about maturity, I’ve got a whole ten years on you.” Hailey smiled.

“Uhh, no. You don’t, but that’s okay. You keep thinking that.” Jenna snorted before taking out her phone and beginning to answer her text messages. Hailey sighed, resting her head against the c-train window, noticing the pit that began to grow inside her stomach. Why did she feel so bad about going tonight? It was a hockey game, she loved hockey, so why was she so scared about tonight?

_ _ _₤♥√€_ _ _

“This is fucking fantastic!” Hailey yelled, pumping both her fists in the air, careful not to spill the drink in her hand. They were seated right behind the penalty box, and Hailey now sported a recently bought flames jersey with Craig Conroy’s name and number on the back. She was already excited—and the game hadn’t even started yet. The announcer had just told everyone it was five minutes until the lights were going down.

The music blared through the dome and the atmosphere was addicting. Hailey couldn’t deny it—this is the reason why she loved hockey. The way the crowd got excited before the players even graced us with their skills. People had wrongfully called her a puck bunny, but then again—every girl that liked hockey was automatically labelled the horrible name. She was in no way, shape, or form a puck bunny and resented it when people thought she was.

“The lights are going down in one minute!” The announcer’s voice boomed causing both Hailey and Jenna to yell out with excitement. The lights began to flick off as the opening video graced the enmax jumbotron, the music blaring through the Pengrowth Saddledome was electric.

The referees begin to skate onto the ice and red strobe lights began to flash around as a siren went off. Everyone began to stand up as a light hit the opening to the flames bench, where the players were marching out of. They all skated around, the announcer talking about the starting line-up against the San Jose sharks.

“I’m kind of glad you brought me.” Hailey said, trying not to cringe as the woman sang the national anthem.

“I knew you’d like it.” Jenna smiled, watching as her friend let a giggle leave her lips at the awful singing, “That girl always does the anthem, eh?”

“No! Really? She’s terrible.” Hailey said, sticking her tongue out as the woman yowled out the last note to the Canadian anthem, allowing everyone to take their places as the game began. The puck dropped and the crowd seemed to fall silent. Hailey turned to Jenna, a look of shock on her face.

“Why is no one cheering?”

“It’s kind of how everyone acts. We cheer when we score—but not a lot during play.” Jenna shrugged, like it was normal. Hailey looked stunned.

“Shit, that’s awful! You’re supposed to be loud 24/7 at a game! I thought Calgary was full of die-hard fans?” She questioned, Jenna shrugged, turning her attention back to the game silently. Hailey couldn’t believe it, everyone was sitting there in silence, occasionally ‘ooh’ing or ‘ah’ing at the play.

The whistle went and there was a quick line change, and the cheering began once more.

“That’s weird! You guys won’t cheer during the play, I can’t get over that.” Hailey grumbled, taking a hearty sip of her beer. Jenna once again shrugged, with a slight roll of her eyes at her friend. The crowd seemed to cheer loud as one player skated on, a cocky grin dancing on his face. He lined up for the face-off, saying something to the other guy with a smirk on the face. The ref looked at him, as if giving him a warning. As soon as the puck dropped, both players dropped their gloves and sticks before the man in the red jersey began throwing punches. The crowd jumped to their feet, yelling and banging the glass.

The refs quickly broke up the fight before sending the players to their respected penalty box, and Hailey smiled, knowing they were directly behind the flames penalty box. She locked eyes with the flames player, missing his helmet, gloves, stick, and mouth guard he seemed to look—familiar. His blue eyes, tousled brown hair, the stubble on his face. Hailey dropped her drink, watching as it spilt all over her shoes. Her face contorted into one of shock, her heart began to hammer in her chest, and her palms began to grow sweaty.

“Who’s that player?” She asked Jenna, her voice was hoarse.

“Number thirty-three on our team? Brandon Prust, why?” She asked, looking at her friend with concerned eyes. Hailey shook her head. Not believing the words that left her friend’s mouth. Brandon Prust. The Brandon Prust that had left her in London, Ontario without a goodbye—She could feel her eyes welling up. She watched as Brandon’s eyes widened in size, quickly running over her face. The way, he slowed his skating down, pausing outside the box, climbing in and inching closer to the glass where she stood. The crowd was giving him a standing ovation for the fight he had just done, but he couldn’t get past Hailey’s face.

_ _ _₤♥√€_ _ _

He skated to the penalty box, ignoring the crowd, and ignoring the shouting from his coach in his direction. He had been stressed out, hearing that one of his family friends finally moved out of London, Ontario, so now he had no way of contacting her. The very girl he still had strong feelings for.

But he never acted on it. The day he found out he was getting drafted to the NHL all he wanted to do was tell Hailey, to see her smiling face as she congratulated him—but he knew with that smiling face, a goodbye would also have to be said—and Brandon couldn’t even think about saying goodbye to her. So, instead, he would admit he pulled a dick move. He packed his bags and got on the quickest flight to Calgary, leaving her behind without a goodbye. He thought that if he didn’t say goodbye, it would mean that in some way they would still meet up down the road.

He glanced up at the crowd as he neared the penalty box, looking to see who would be sitting behind him. A small dark-skinned girl with curly hair cheered as her equally small friend clapped her hands, trying not to spill the drink. He took an immediate interest in the one girl with the drink, her golden brown eyes, and silky chocolate hair—porcelain skin with freckles on the bridge of her nose.

He watched as she dropped the drink and he nearly stopped dead in his tracks. He knew who that girl was. His throat tightened as he quickly looked over her face, to make sure it was her. It was.

The girl was Hailey. The person he left behind four years ago. He wanted to speak, he wanted to do something, but a wall of glass separated them, and she didn’t look happy. Her eyes sparkled with tears of anger and resentment towards him, and he felt the room begin to spin. He watched as her small hands seemed to clench into fists, and as her friend pointed at her shoes, waving her arms hysterically.

Brandon touched the glass of the penalty box before the man working it tapped his shoulder.

“What?” His voice was filled with annoyance. The man pointed to the door to reveal Curtis with his equipment.

“Good fight man.” He said, giving the younger boy his stick, gloves, and helmet.

“Thanks, the Sutters’ don’t look too impressed.” He laughed, causing Curt to laugh with him. The penalty box worker closed the door and asked Brandon to sit down. He did as he was told, grabbing his water bottle and squirting his face before taking a sip. He cracked his knuckles before placing his gloves back on, tapping his skates nervously against the door. He turned back to see Hailey only to notice she was gone, her friend was still there, not looking impressed about having beer spilt all over her shoes. The girl locked eyes with Brandon and smiled.

He then turned to the man running the box, “Stan, can you do me a favour during the period change?”

“Yeah, what do you need Brando?”

“Look, can you give some passes to the girls sitting behind here? Don’t tell them who they’re from, just to stop by afterwards.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll see what I can do. Why’s it so important they stop by afterwards?”

“It just is.” Brandon shrugged, knowing he couldn’t tell Stan that he may or may not be in love with the other girl, after four long years. He chewed on his mouth guard, feeling nervous and wondered where she disappeared too. What if she left? What if he never saw her again? He grabbed his stick, clenching it so tight he thought it would break. He watched the clock tick away his fight minute major for high-sticking, even though he knew he was in there for punching the shit out of the other guy.

Finally his five minute major was over and he happily skated to the bench once the whistle was blown for an offside. He chewed on his mouth guard once more as the crowd cheered at him as he returned to the bench. He saw his coaches face and began to sink into his skates a little. He was in big trouble.

“What was that? Huh? I told you not to fight that fucking guy! Sit on the bench for the rest of the period Prust.” His coach shouted, before returning his gaze to the ice. Brandon rolled his eyes; he was used to getting benched for the rest of a period. He squeezed in between Oli and Curt. They both patted his shoulders, knowing he had done well. He took the honour of wearing the #33 seriously, the great Oliwa had worn the same number in Calgary, and he was a total goon, and Brandon had always liked to fight—it just seemed to escalate when he switched his number from 37, to 33. He followed the hockey play closely, but every so often he’d let his eyes stray and flick over to the empty seat of Hailey, letting a sigh escape his lips as the period ended. This was going to be a long game.

_ _ _₤♥√€_ _ _

“Seriously, do we have to go down there?” Hailey complained, crossing her arms and pouting. The flames had won the game, 4-2, but she had missed most of it. Every-time Brandon skated on, she would busy herself with an epic game of brickbreaker on her blackberry.

“Uh, yeah, we do. Why wouldn’t you want to go down to the flames dressing room? Bunch of half dressed guys? Sign me up.” Jenna grinned.

“You’re such a pervert.”

“You know you love it.”

Hailey rolled her eyes, getting a sick feeling in her stomach, “Who gave us the passes again?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“Dunno, the penalty box guy gave them to me and said someone on the bench requested we got them. What if it was Adam? Or Dion? Or Dustin? Or-”

“Calm down, we know it wasn’t from Dion—he’s dating that chick off that T.V show or something. It was all over perez like a year ago.” Hailey muttered with an eye roll.

“You need to keep off Perez, you know too much gossip.” Jenna laughed, poking her friend in the gut. Hailey rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets, shifting the weight on her feet nervously as she noticed they were now standing outside the flames dressing room. She clamped on her lip, pulling her winter hat over her ears a little more. It was a knit style hat, with a little tassel on the top, and tassels coming off the ear muffs. It was really quite adorable.

“Hails? Why do you look so nervous? Didn’t you used to hang out with people on that OHL team or whatever way back in the day?”

“I’m not nervous—just really tired; I kind of want to get home. I have to work tomorrow.” She lied, not skipping a beat. Jenna looked sceptical but let it slide. People started coming out of the dressing room, the media had interviewed them and left them long ago. Hailey let a shaky breath escape her lips, watching as one of the players made their way over.

“Hello, I’m Curtis Glencross.” He smiled at Hailey and Jenna. Jenna smiled, extending her hand.

“Jenna Amlani and this is Hailey Fisher. Are you the one who gave us these passes?” She inquired as Curtis gently took her hand.

“No, actually I am.” A voice came from behind Hailey, causing her to jump ten feet in the air and spin around. She knew that voice anywhere. It made her heart race, and butterflies to float around in her stomach.

“Brando, I thought you said you’d be a while getting dressed? Ah, well, this is Jenna and Hailey.” Curtis said, a grin gracing his face. He already knew that Brandon knew Hailey—Brandon had explained his relationship with her to Curtis in the dressing room.

Hailey felt the tears reappear in her eyes, daring to make an appearance, but she held them back.

“Thank you so much for giving us these passes, but uh, why’d you do it?” Jenna asked, looking at Hailey, who still seemed to be in her own little world. Brandon couldn’t take his eyes off her, Jenna noticed, which was odd.

“It’s been awhile.” Hailey’s voice was tight and unfamiliar—it had a cold edge to it that no one other than Brandon would understand.

“Only four years.” His voice was soft, and gentle, but Hailey ignored it, clenching her jaw and fists.

“Four years isn’t a short amount of time, Brandon.” She growled. Curtis and Jenna could tell this wasn’t going to be the nicest conversation so they both decided it would be wise to move away from the six foot tall hockey player, and the five foot two writer.

“Jersey, you can’t be mad at me.” He said, using her old nickname. Hailey flinched at hearing it—she hadn’t been called ‘Jersey’ in four years and wasn’t exactly liking hearing the name. He reached out to touch her but she moved away, shaking her head.

“Do not touch me and do not call me that name.” Her voice was stern, and full of anger. Brandon felt his heart sink a little.

“Hailey, please don’t be angry.” He pleaded, emitting a bitter laugh out of the small girl as she crossed her arms, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Don’t be angry!? I have every right to be angry with you Brandon.”

“What did I do to you that was so bad, Hailey?” He whispered, his blue eyes full of confusion and sadness.

“You left me in London without saying goodbye. Do you know how embarrassing it was to go to your house, excited to talk to you about your new season only to have your mother look at me with complete and utter shock, wondering why her son didn’t tell his best friend that he had moved? That he got drafted to the NHL? Did you think I wouldn’t care that you just moved?” She asked, her voice was shaking and the tears were now softly falling from her eyes. Brandon wanted nothing more than to wipe them clean off her face, to hold her until she stopped crying, but he knew that wasn’t possible.

“Hails, please don’t cry.” He pleaded, feeling tears sting the back of his eyes as well. Hailey shook her head, back up even more from him.

“You’re such a bastard.” She mumbled, flicking her sorrow filled eyes back to his face, feeling her throat tighten and stop her breathing. Brandon took a dangerous step closer to her only to feel her head slap him across the face. He backed up a little, looking at the petit girl and the anger that seemed to take over her body.

“Please don’t say that, I’m so sorry, Hailey—I had a good reason for leaving without saying goodbye, I really did.”

“That’s not fucking good enough! You know my dad died two weeks after you left, and I had no one to turn to.” She whispered, causing Brandon’s face to contort into a look of horror. Hailey had been raised by her dad; her mother had died giving birth to her. Her dad was her everything.

“I had no idea—I’m so s-”

“Save it. If you bothered to try to contact me once during these four years then you’d know already. But you didn’t. You can’t expect me to just forgive you.” She whispered wanting to scream at the top of her lungs at him. But she knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t just that Brandon had left her without saying goodbye; it was the fact that she had always been in love with him but knew that she’d always just be his best friend. She was too afraid to fall in love anyways, knowing she’d end up getting hurt anyways.

“Hailey, please just listen to me,”

“No, Brandon, you listen to me. You’ve had four years to call me up and explain to me why you left without saying goodbye. I’m done waiting for your half-ass apology, so you know what, fuck you.” She grumbled, spinning around to face a very stunned looking Jenna and Curtis.

“I’ll see you at the apartment.” Hailey grumbled, not waiting for Jenna’s response as she walked towards the nearest exit, pushing it open to the cold winter air, leaning against the wall as she began to cry loudly. How dare he come back into her life after all this time—he would never understand.

_ _ _₤♥√€_ _ _

Hailey sat in an abandoned cafe that never closed. It was three am and they were still serving coffee, and people were still drinking it. She sat in a corner booth, her knees curled up into her chest, her hands gripping the coffee cup. Only one person knew that this was Hailey’s escape place—and that person was Jenna. And she wasn’t expecting Jenna to come and fetch Hailey.

The door chimed and the cool, Calgary air seemed to fill every corner. Hailey shivered and took another hearty sip of her coffee, whipping her tear stained cheeks with her sleeves. She could hear someone walking around but didn’t bother to glance up from the booth.

“Hails.” He breathed, sitting down across from her. Hailey eyes widened, staring at the boy across from her.

“What are you doing here? Haven’t you had enough fun wrecking my life tonight, Brandon?” She asked, setting her coffee cup down.

He stared at her, even with the tears still running down her cheeks—she was beautiful. He opened his mouth; the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t get them out. I love you, the hardest three words anyone would say were the three words that were dancing around in his mouth. He didn’t know why, but the small girl intimidated the crap out of him. He was scared to tell her the truth.

“Hailey, I couldn’t say goodbye to you.” He mumbled, resting his elbows against the table, putting all the weight onto them.

“Yeah, great excuse Brandon, are you done? Can I go now and forget about this awkward run-in?” She snorted, causing Brandon to feel sad all over again. He was screwing up here—big time.

“Look, I’m a coward okay? I know I am, and I know how awful it was not to say goodbye—I just—I just couldn’t think about leaving you for good. Goodbye’s—that usually marks the end of something so special.” He paused, gently reaching out and touching her fingers, his heart beating as their skin touched, and at the fact that she didn’t flinch away, “I was sitting on the plane crying. I felt like shit leaving you, I really did—but I thought by not saying goodbye—we would somehow meet up again—and look, we are, we’re meeting up again.”

“Brandon—you thought we’d seriously stop being friends because you were moving? That’s like saying you didn’t want to be friends anymore, that you’d just give up trying to stay in touch—but I guess that’s what you did in the end regardless.” The tears were forming in her eyes again and she moved her hand away from Brandon’s.

“No, no, I wouldn’t have stopped trying, but we would have been so far away—it would have been hard.” He muttered. Yeah it would have been hard, because he was in love with her and couldn’t be so far away from her.

“That wouldn’t have mattered. I’d come out and see you, I’d come watch you play—maybe you wanted to move far away from me, is that it, Brandon? You were sick of me and couldn’t wait to get rid of me? But now that I’m here you think maybe since you’re some hockey stud you can use me for a quick fuck and then leave me in the gutter?”

Brandon was horrified at the accusations coming out of her mouth. He always knew that she was one to over-think things and jump to conclusion, but he didn’t blame her. He looked bad in this position, and he really had nothing justified to back up his reasons for leaving without saying goodbye.

“Hailey,” He whispered watching as she lowered her eyes, “Please look at me?” He asked, sighing when she didn’t. He scooted around the booth so that he was sitting next to her, place his hands on the side of her face and tipping it up to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry about leaving you, it was wrong, and I know nothing I ever say will make up for what I did.” He said softly, his minty breath softly hitting her face, causing her to turn scarlet, her palms growing sweaty, and her heart beat faster. She couldn’t deny her feelings. She was too scared to put her heart out on the line to him, but she knew that she never fell out of love with him, even when he left her.

“And I’m sorry about your father, and not being able to be there when everything fell apart—I’m sorry for not being able to pick the pieces off the floor and put them back together, for not being you crutch when you needed one.”

Just the thought of her father brought back the tears in her eyes and she tried to move her face out of his hands. She brought her hands to her face, covering it in shame as she began to cry once more. Brandon quickly tucking her petit body into his arms, feeling so many emotions for her, sadness—and so much sympathy and love it was overwhelming. He gently rubbed her shoulders, his breath hitching in his throat every time a soft sob escaped her mouth, his heart beating faster at being so close to her after four years.

“Shhh, Hail’s it’s okay, everything’s okay.” He whispered, stroking her soft hair, closing his eyes.

“N-No, everything’s not okay! M-My dad-My dad’s dead, an-and,” She paused, letting out another choked sob as she tried to calm herself down, trying to finish her sentence, “Y-You’ll n-never know ho-how I feel.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, probing her gently. The tears began to fall down her face faster as she looked at Brandon, taking a deep breath.

“I—never mind.” She whispered, wiping her face as the tears began to stop falling from her delicate brown eyes. She had come so close to saying those three words, the words she never wanted Brandon to hear, knowing he would laugh before leaving her in the coffee shop to pick up the pieces of her life once more.

“No, tell me.” His gentle blue eyes shone with curiosity.

“No! It doesn’t fucking matter, Brandon!” She yelled, enraged, nearly knocking off her coffee mug. Brandon touched the side of her face, causing goose-flesh to coat her arms, and her stomach to flip.

“It matters to me.” He said, his voice soft. He wrapped his arms around her tightly again, and she resisted the gesture before relaxing into his arms like putty. Her knees were weak, and she knew if she had been standing she would have fallen over at the close contact they were in. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, closing her eyes, their hearts beating in unison.

“If you could re-do things, would you leave me without saying goodbye?” Hailey asked, fearing the answer.

“If I could re-do things, I would change a lot of things, Hailey. I would have told you some things a lot earlier, and I would have shipped you out to stay with me in Calgary.”

“Told me what things earlier?” She inquired, looking up at his square jaw, gently touching his cheek with her small finger. He pressed his hand against her own, looking down at her with those enthralling blue eyes.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m here now, and I will never leave you again, do you understand?”

“It matters to me.” She whispered the same words he had said to her.

Both of them were desperately seeking the courage to say those three words to each other, but neither of them could. Both of them were afraid of falling in love, knowing you only got hurt in the end.

Brandon assisted Hailey to her feet, throwing a ten dollar bill on the table for her cup of coffee before leading her outside, where the snow was falling.

Even at night, the city was still alive, cars were driving across the snow covered seats, and people were making midnight coffee runs. The stars twinkled above in the night’s sky, which was usually not seen in the city, but on a clear night like tonight—anything was possible. Brandon and Hailey stood beneath a lamp-post, the golden light making their eyes glow as the snow fell all around them. Both of them seemed to open their mouth to speak but quickly closed it.

“Hails?” He asked, breaking the silence. She looked up at him, her brown hair falling in front of her eyes. He reached out, gently tucking it behind her ear, smiling as her cheeks turned crimson.

“Yeah?” Her voice was soft, and reminded him of so many nights spent outside in the summer, just talking and talking until they fell asleep under the stars, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It was funny—even then they both loved each other, but they were convinced that the other one just saw them as friends, and only friends.

“You know I’m really sorry, right?” He asked. She sighed, looking down at the ground and nodding. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her tightly. His heart seemed to beat so loud he swore that she would be able to hear it.

He could feel the butterflies floating in his stomach, for he knew what he was going to do next. He had waited since they were thirteen to do what he was about to do. He gently tipped the petit girl’s head up once more. Her brown eyes seemed to sparkle like she had the night’s stars imbedded in her irises.

“Do you hate me?” He asked, his voice was husky.

“No—I could never hate you, Brandon. I’ve tried so hard, I’ve tried to force myself to hate you—but I can’t.” She sighed, admitting the truth reluctantly. The entire four years she told herself all these lies in hopes she could trick herself into hating him—it obviously didn’t work.

“Good, in that case there’s something I want to do.” He smiled down at her. Hailey looked at the giant man, a little confused. Her breathing was staggering and her heart was skipping every second beat. She opened her mouth to ask the handsome man in front of her what he meant, but closed it when she saw his face inches away from her own, his lips softly pressing against her own.

She nearly jumped back five feet but tried to remain calm and get over the fact that the person she had loved since she was thirteen was now kissing her. She let her eyes gently close as she stood up on her tippy-toes so that he didn’t have to bend down as much, and wrapped her arms gently around his neck. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, both of their faces very red in colour, their hands and knees shaking in nervousness and excitement.

Hailey finally pulled away, her eyes wide in shock. So many words came to her mouth and she didn’t know what to say. She looked at the blue-eyed giant, wondering if he was just messing around with her—or if the kiss was sincere. He ran a hand through his hair, before pinching the bridge of his nose, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’ve waited so long to do that.” He mumbled, his hands shaking as he lowered them to his sides. Her own hands, (shaking as much as his own,) reached out and gently touched his fingers, causing him to squeeze her hands in a loving gesture and manor.

“Brandon?” She asked, her voice breaking several octaves.

“Yeah, what is it?” He asked, so worried that she was going to turn him away, to be the one to walk away without a goodbye. Instead, she removed her hands from his, and wrapped them around his waist.

“I love you.” The words left her mouth, and she had no time to take them back, her voice shaking so much the words were almost inaudible. She waited for him to laugh, to throw her to the gutter like she had expected—but instead felt him wrap his arms around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head, one hand gently running down her hair.

“I love you too. I always have.” He mumbled softly. She looked up, her brown eyes glittering once more as he kissed her lips once more, wrapped one arm around her shoulder as he guided her towards his car.

“How did you know where to find me?” She asked, curious.

“Jenna told me.” He laughed, opening the door for Hailey. She climbed into the truck and he closed the door before crossing over to the driver’s side. Hailey smiled, knowing she would owe the younger girl a lot for what she pulled.

As they drove away from the coffee shop, Brandon reached over and gave Hailey’s leg a squeeze, smiling at her—and she knew that everything was okay.

The word’s they both feared were now out in the open, there true feelings expressed after those long years. Hailey no longer cared that he had left her four years ago without a goodbye—all that mattered was that he was here now, and he wasn’t leaving any time soon.