Thank you for reading, voting, and commenting! XO - Rebecca

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I sat at the dinner table, staring at the uneaten bowl of Cheerios I had made myself for dinner. The little oat rings had been floating in the milk for so long they had started to bloat and fall apart, like defective life savers.

"Marina?" Laura asked gently from the kitchen door. "Can I make you something else?"

I cleared my throat, pushing away the bowl. "No, I'm just not hungry. Thank you, though, Laura."

"Okay. Your dad and I are going to head up to bed."

I glanced at the clock above her head. It was ten p.m. God, I'd been sitting here for an hour. "Good night," I said, forcing a smile.

"'Night, sweetheart."

I waited a full minute after she left before getting up and dumping the soggy remains of my dinner in the sink. I was scrubbing the bowl out when my phone buzzed on the counter next to me. A text from Brady.

I'm sorry.

I put the bowl in the drying rack, wiping my hands on my jeans. I'm sorry too, I wrote back.

No it's my fault.

I sighed, not knowing what to write back. It wasn't his fault that he didn't want me to go to Boston. It was totally understandable. His ex-girlfriend and the guy who stole her from him were both there. He wanted nothing to do with the place, and I couldn't blame him.

But a gnawing worry came back to taunt me as I stared at his text. Brady had told me once that he didn't have a family—or rather, that he had a family of his own making. His cousin. His friends. And Piper.

Now that Piper was gone, was I just some sort of replacement—some way of filling that Piper-sized hole she left behind? And if it weren't for me, would he have filled that blank space with some other girl?

He had told me twice now that I reminded him of Piper. Is that why he was with me? And if so, why was I with him? Did I love him? I had always been wildly attracted to Brady, and for a while, when we were in Oregon together, I had really started falling for him hard. He was funny. He was protective of me, shielding my body with his whenever he sensed danger.

I always thought Kieren was the one looking out for me. But maybe it had been Brady all the time.

I'm outside, came a new text. Can I come in?

I walked to the front door and opened it, seeing his car in the driveway. "Brady?" I called out.

"Over here."

He was over by the kitchen entrance, but he walked around to meet me.

"Hey," I said, smiling at the sight of him. After my day from hell, seeing his open, friendly face was like taking strong medicine.

"Hey," he smiled back. He was hesitant for a moment, but then came up and opened his arms. I threw myself into them and let him hold me in the doorway for a minute. He kissed the top of my head and I squeezed him even tighter.

"Come inside," I offered.

We walked to the kitchen and he grabbed himself a soda from the fridge before sitting down. I couldn't help but smile to see him so at home here. Brady had never had much of a real home. His cousin was nice to him, but he wasn't exactly loving. And even if he had been, nothing could have taken the place of the mother who had left the family and then died when Brady was just a kid. Maybe he'd found a home here, I realized. With Laura making sure he got a warm dinner, and my dad shaking his hand when he came over. And with me.

"I really am sorry I acted that way."

I shook my head, not sure what he meant.

"That school means a lot to you. You should go."

"I haven't even been accepted, Brady."

"You will be."

I hesitated a moment, not sure if this was ground we had already covered. But I needed to say it. "You could come with me."

He took a sip of his soda, and I could hear the little bubbles popping against his upper lip. "Yeah," he nodded. "There are lots of gas stations in Boston I could work at."

"Hey," I said, waiting for him to look up at me. When he didn't, I went to him and sat on his lap. He opened up his body to bring me even closer to him, and gently pushed some hair behind my ear while I looked up into his impossibly beautiful brown eyes. "Don't talk about my boyfriend that way."

He laughed and kissed me, then looked in the general direction of the stairs. "Are they asleep?" he whispered.

I nodded.

"Come on. Let's go to your room."

My throat suddenly turned dry. Here it was, the moment I had been both afraid of and anxious for. I had dreamed of going to my bedroom with Brady since the day I met him. Was it really happening now?

Once we tiptoed upstairs and closed the door, I plopped my phone into its speaker cradle and put on some soft music, just in case Laura and my dad could hear anything.

He kicked off his shoes and laid down in my bed like he had done it a hundred times.

"I'm just gonna brush my teeth," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Mmm," he mumbled, his eyes closing and his body spreading out on my soft pink comforter. His head almost touched the headboard and his feet hung off the end. Yet he looked so comfortable, I wondered if he would fall asleep before I got back.

I calmed myself down a bit in the bathroom, going through my nighttime ritual of washing my face and gargling mouthwash. Is this what it would be like if we went to Boston together? Familiar and sweet like this, Brady snoring lightly in the bed while I did a night mask to unclog my pores, or folded laundry, or made popcorn? Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast. Baseball on the TV. Brady touching my feet gently while I studied.

A bead curtain in the kitchen doorframe.

Could it really be that perfect?

When I got back to the room, he looked up at me through groggy eyes and smiled. I climbed into his waiting arms and snuggled in close, kissing his neck and then his cheek, breathing in the lemon scent of his clothes and the warm musky air on his skin.

He kissed me deeply, his hand traveling absently under my shirt. I fought back an instinct to flinch, letting his hands work their way up my back to my bra clasp. Could he tell that I was nervous? Maybe. Before going any further, he pulled his hand away.

"Why'd you stop?"

He shrugged with a smile, as though I already knew the answer to that question. Then he rolled away a bit.

"Don't—" I began. "Don't stop. Come on."

He laughed slightly and touched my cheek with the back of his fingers. "No, you were right," he said gently. "We should wait till your birthday in January."

"Oh," I said, swallowing hard. So I guess some things hadn't changed. But did I really even care about some childish idea I had formed about sex years ago, when I was nowhere near ready to have it? Did it really matter to me now—now that I was with someone that I trusted so completely? "We don't..." I began, searching for the words. "We don't have to wait."

"Well," he laughed, "legally, we kind of do."

I laughed in embarrassment and buried my face in my palm. "Oh. Right."

"It's okay," Brady said, pulling me closer to him again, and bringing my head to rest on his chest. "I don't mind waiting for you."

It felt so good to lie there, so comfortable and easy.

"We've got all the time in the world."

And as I drifted off into a deep sleep, his words continued to echo through my mind, over and over again.

All the time in the world.