Shea

"Moderation," I smile. Using my free hand, I swipe a yam fry from Brenna's plate.

She gapes at me, which is understandable. I've already devoured three hamburgers and a large order of fries. When I'm stressed, I like to indulge in foods that aren't recommended, but are okay in moderation. Plus, I missed out on dinner, and I'm hungry.

"How the hell are you still hungry?" she asks.

Grinning, I shrug. "I'm a growing boy, Harrison."

Her lips curve into a smile. She used to hate my drawling and shrugging. If I'm reading her right, she enjoys both characteristics now. She doesn't look like she wants to throttle me anymore.

I glance down at my crumpled burger wrappers, concealing the smile I can't fight. "Tell me what's on your mind. How can I help in reducing the stress?"

Brenna sighs as she pops a fry into her mouth. She chews slowly, and I watch through my lashes as she gazes at the lonely, wilting plant in the far corner. Her nose wrinkles slightly. Whether it's from the condition of the plant or the potent scent of grease, I can't tell.

"There are lots of things you could do, Shea," she says. "But I think the best thing is what you're doing right now. Offering support." She shoots me a genuine, thankful look. Then she reaches out and takes my hand. "Seriously. I appreciate it."

A dirty comment sits on my tongue. There are lots of things I could do to make Brenna forget, as long as she's comfortable teaching me what she likes. However, it feels too soon to play that card. It's not that I'm not interested in intimate activities that involve more than kissing or holding hands. There's just... Life is chaotic right now. With school, hockey, taking care of Chels, dealing with my parents, and making sure that fuckwad Connor doesn't bother us again, taking this relationship to the next level seems like too much. In addition, I'm concerned about what happens after we graduate. Will I be going to Boston? Will Brenna go to Vancouver? How do you make a long-distance relationship last?

Instead of making the dirty comment or expressing my rambling thoughts, I give Brenna's hand a squeeze. If keeping my mouth shut makes me a hypocrite, I don't care. Today's been difficult for Brenna. She doesn't need any of my shit weighing on her shoulders, and we'll discuss what happens after graduation later. Right now, the spotlight is on her.

"I wouldn't have improved without you, Bren."

Brenna snorts. "Don't discredit yourself, Shea. Maybe I was the catalyst, but you were the one open to change. Becoming a better person isn't a one-way street. Even if pressures from the outside are weighing on someone, they still have to be open to change."

My cheeks burn, despite her having a point. Being praised isn't something common in my life unless it's from Noah, KJ, or Jayden. Not to devalue their voices, but hearing this from Brenna makes my chest fill with pride.

I clear my throat. "Thanks, Bren."

Smiling, she glances down at her food. I watch her as she picks up a yam fry and takes a bite. She doesn't look comfortable eating it, but at least she's eating. Progress comes in small steps. With enough help and support, I know Brenna will push through and continue to fight against her eating disorder. And it's not too bold of me to assume she'll make it. Brenna's a fighter. Once she's had time to absorb everything, she'll do the right thing.

"Moderation," I remind her.

She pops the rest of the fry in her mouth, a devilish glint in her blue-violet eyes. "Says the one who wolfs down three burgers, an order of fries, and then half of my fries."

Her teasing tone makes me grin. I rest my chin on my fist, cocking my head to the side. "Have I ever told you your eyes look violet?"

Brenna chuckles, despite a faint blush spreading across her freckled cheeks. "Multiple times. When I look at my reflection, I don't see violet. All I see is a..." She trails off, wracking her mind for a colour. "Steel blue. My eyes are more cold than warm."

I shake my head. "Bullshit. I'll cut you some slack, though. I see hints of grey mixed with the blue, but there are undertones of violet."

She snorts. "Someone enjoys getting lost in my gaze."

"What can I say?" I shrug. "I'm a sucker for violet."

Grabbing another fry, Brenna wrinkles her nose. "You said that about hot-pink, too."

My laugh comprises staged indifference. "Because I can pull off hot-pink, and I know you can't deny it. You love it when I wear that sweater."

Brenna doesn't meet my gaze. She directs hers to the checkered linoleum flooring, the blush more prominent in her cheeks.

"However," I continue. "Violet is a colour that does not look good on me. You know why?"

"Why?" She stills doesn't dare meet my gaze. Which is probably a good thing. I'm seconds away from leaning over the table and kissing her. Well... I'd have to ask her first, but that's what I want to do. Our banter is a total turn-on, and I hope the same applies to her. If we're ever comfortable taking this relationship up a level, our banter would ignite an inferno.

Reaching over the table, I tip her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Because violet was reserved for you."

Brenna swallows thickly, keeping her gaze locked with mine. "Sometimes, Shea, I hate how charming you can be when you're nice."

A playful smile curves across my lips. "Would you prefer I turn into an asshole again?"

She snorts again. "Fuck no. But you know what I would prefer?"

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, hoping she wants what I want. "What?"

"If you'd kiss me now."

Smiling, I do just that.