A Christmas Miracle (Excerpt Only) - BWWM Interracial Romance

A Christmas Miracle (Chapter 5)

CHAPTER FIVE

MONDAY

I'm not going to sleep with Alex—I'm just not that kind of girl, Brenda kept telling herself.
Brenda met Ralph when she was twenty, and he had been her first and only. It had taken him a whole six months to convince her to get that intimate with him—mainly because she had decided to wait until marriage to give up her virginity. But she had fallen in love with Ralph, and the desire became too strong to feel more connected to him, and to increase their intimacy; she was convinced she would marry him someday anyway.
Now here she was, alone, their six-year relationship ended in a flash. All her hopes and dreams for the future dashed in one fell swoop.
She wasn't about to make that mistake again—especially with such a casual, short-term relationship. Besides, Alex had already made it clear he was only down with casual relationships, despite how much he kept saying he wanted to be with her. Since he had honestly told her his game, she had better listen to him. When he said he wanted more with her, he probably just meant exactly what they were doing—more contact, more 'friendly' activities, more...
Her brain started filling in the rest and she did not like where it was headed. More than just friends, it said. More than a kiss. More than 'clothed' company.
Alex was a man—how could he not be thinking of her sexually? Of adding another notch to his belt? What was she thinking inviting this strange man into her home anyway?
She let out a breath.
She was thinking that she wanted to see more of him sooner than later, and all her thinking wasn't necessarily being done by her brain.
It had been nice venting to him, but having gotten used to his company, the thought of having to wait five days until the next time she saw him was unbearable.
So you did the next logical thing and invited him home the next day, great.
Truth was, waiting even four, three or two days would have been as unbearable.
Perhaps she could have waited until Tuesday, but why torture herself for even one day?
*
As soon as she got home from school she started working on her apartment to make sure that there was nothing embarrassing around, and that it was as clean as could be.
The one-bedroom was small, but cozy—about six hundred square feet and sufficient for her needs.
She was generally pretty tidy, so she didn't have a whole lot of preparation to do for Alex's arrival.
She was also glad she didn't have to put a lot of effort into dressing up.
Her hair was still fairly neat from her work day, and she put it up as she showered, then let it down. She applied light makeup, then threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
She checked her fridge to make sure she had a variety of refreshments that she could offer him, then considered what to do about snacks.
She had a bag of popcorn left, and decided she would pop it closer to the time, after he had already come in.
Then she went about deciding what they could watch.
She looked through the options on the list she had made, and settled on a few choices to present to him.
She had a feeling he would leave it up to her, but she wanted to give the appearance of having considered his tastes anyway—just like she used to pretend Ralph had a choice when it was really just the illusion of participation and decision-making.
But Alex was so odd, he could still surprise her—there was so much room for it, since she didn't really know him at all.
It was early still, and she'd had no red flags go up about him being a serial killer or some other kind of psycho. The only alarm bells she had go off when it came to Alex was how much she liked him, and how much she knew she had to keep her distance as best as she could.
So far, she realized, she was not doing a good job of it.
*
Remember, Alex, play your cards right. Don't scare her.
Alex tried to calm his nerves as he rang the doorbell outside of Brenda's apartment.
As he waited, he tried to guess what awaited him inside, and tried to picture how the girl he met would furnish and decorate her place.
He imagined her being neat, and probably practical, so if she had a one-bedroom instead of a studio, her living room area would have seating—a matching couch and love-seat or something of the sort, and a medium-sized flat screen. One thing he was almost sure of: there would be no gaming systems—she didn't seem like a gamer.
She had probably chosen either a clean and serious color combo like black and white, as if she meant serious business, or her place would be rich with brown and red tones.
He chuckled to himself at the lack of commitment to one solid idea of her in this regard. He couldn't yet tell what she ached for more: structure or comfort.
The living room was as far as he got in his mind, thankfully, since he didn't want to start imagining what her bedroom would look like just yet, and give himself away with curious glances in its direction.
She opened the door to him with a bright smile that tugged at his heart, and made him briefly reconsider whether or not coming to her home was a good idea—if getting to know her at all was a good idea.
But the feeling of warmth that flooded him confirmed that it was—whatever ended up happening, it was worth the way she was making him feel, and definitely worth seeing her smile. He hoped she felt as happy as she appeared right now.
He stepped in and looked around to see that he was sort of right about her decor in one regard: there was no warmth—no rich reds, browns or golds here. But it wasn't quite a stark, clean, deliberate black-and-white choice either. It was simple and neat—white walls, black couches, large, black, flat-screen TV, grey carpet. And he was right about the lack of gaming systems.
Her kitchen looked somewhat similar: a mix of black and stainless steel appliances, black and white tile, white walls.
The place looked clean, neat and lived-in, yet for some reason, the sight of it made him sad.
Now, he really wondered what her bedroom looked like—hopefully there was some warmth and life there at least.
"So what are you going to torture me with?" he asked, bringing his attention back to her.
"Well, you have a choice: documentary, movie, or TV series marathon?"
"Hm...a movie or TV marathon for sure. But we just saw a movie the other day, so let's get a series in."
She nodded, smiling. "Great! I was hoping you'd say that—I wouldn't want to torture you with some documentary you have no interest in. I feel no guilt about Orange is the New Black, however. Have you seen it?"
"I've heard good things."
"Great! So there's that, or Breaking Bad. I think I'm the last person in America who hasn't seen a single episode."
His mouth fell open. "You're kidding me, right?"
She giggled, shaking her head. "Nope! I've been trying to watch mostly lighthearted stuff, to be honest, and I heard Breaking Bad gets pretty dark. I think I've seen every nature-related and existential documentary on there, and I can't tell you how many comedy shows and romances and comedies I've blasted through. And cartoons—I watched All Dogs Go To Heaven 2 the other day."
Alex started laughing. "Cartoons? Seriously?"
"Hey, I love 'em!"
"I did, too...when I was five. I don't think I've seen a single cartoon past the age of eight."
"Now I know you're lying. Come on, Family Guy at the very least?"
"Oh, yeah—I guess I kind of forget it's a cartoon. Anyway, what are my other options?"
Once they settled on the series, she asked him how many episodes he had time for.
"I don't have anywhere to go anytime soon if that's what you're asking. I can stay as long as you want."
He watched her eyes widen slightly and she practically stammered out that about three episodes was probably a good idea.
"They're only about forty-five minutes each since the commercials are cut out, so we'll have about the length of a longish movie. Like we were going to see The Titanic or something. So I won't keep you too long."
"Okay, speaking of The Titanic? Don't ever try to get me to watch that. And you can forget about The Notebook, too."
Brenda laughed.
*
Alex had eased her closer to him, and Brenda enjoyed the nook he'd created for her, and didn't mind that one of his arms was now around her.
They had run out of popcorn long ago, and she had brought refreshments after each of the first two episodes.
Now that the third was coming to an end, she wondered if she should offer him something again—if only to have an excuse to leave that too-comfortable position. She was starting to lose her concentration—his nearness, and his clean, male smell was doing something to her mind and body. She wanted to lean her face into him and take a solid whiff, taking him in through her nostrils. She had started aching for him to put his other arm around her, closing the circuit, and holding her firmly in an embrace. She wanted to feel his strength, the power of those arms.
And to her horror, she had started wondering what it was like to feel his lips on hers and elsewhere.
She wanted to look into his beautiful green eyes, and see them looking back at her, almost drunk with...what, desire? Adoration?
Time to call it a night.
As the episode came to an end, her plan was to stand up quickly to break their intimacy, and as she was getting up, let Alex know that she was going to grab some water and offer him some something to drink as well. But as she motioned to get up, she was stopped by the arm around her, holding her in place.
"Where do you think you're going?" Alex asked, the tone and deep masculinity of his voice and the almost possessive quality to it making her aware of her nether regions humming to life.
"I was going for some water. Do you want...?"
"Stay here for a moment. We're not done yet," he said a little more quietly, yet still firmly, and making her heartbeat speed up more.
The hand belonging to the arm around her shoulder rubbed her arm and the motion made her look at him.
She saw clearly in his face that he had intended to get her attention that way, for he was looking at her steadily with heat in his eyes.
"Um..." She didn't know what she was about to say—all she knew was that she needed to say something, anything. Or move.
He had her trapped in his half-embrace, and now the intent in his eyes.
"I..." Her heart seemed to stop when his other arm came around her, and his body turned more toward her. He stroked her cheek.
"Thanks for inviting me over," he said. "I really enjoyed the show...and being with you."
Her cheek was still tingling from his touch, and her heart, still slamming her chest long after both of his arms withdrew from her, and he had stood up.
It soon registered to her that he was preparing to leave and that she should stand up too, to see him out, but she didn't know what to make of her emotions.
She wanted so badly for him to stay, yet was afraid of how vulnerable she felt, and what could happen.
While her conflicting desires fought, she found herself following him mutely to the door, which he was soon swinging open.
He turned to her and said, "Good night, Brenda," and his face seemed to be coming toward hers forever before his lips found her cheek and stayed there far longer than a friendly kiss.
She didn't realize she had closed her eyes until the sound of the door closing behind him registered seconds later, and she was filled with regret that he hadn't kissed her lips after all.
Her cheeks burned long after his lips left them, as if he'd held a lit cigarette to the spot.