“Brian!” I call against the violent wind. “Brian, wait!” He turns around, pauses, and then begins walking back towards me; head down against the billowing snow. We’re standing in front of each other, hazel eyes into blue. This time, I don’t fight it. “Well, are you coming in or not?”

Silently, he walks in and I close the door behind him. He turns to me, eyeing me speculatively. “London, are you sure? I mean, I can always head to town and rent a hotel.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re already here,” I reply. “Besides, it’s too dangerous now and you don’t know if there are even any rooms open.”

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he murmurs, looking down at the hardwood floor.

“It’s okay, Brian.” I sigh and look over at the piles of blankets and pillows on the living room couch. “Just…” I pause. “Make yourself warm in front of the fireplace and I’ll grab you some blankets.”

He nods and heads into the living room. I stop when I hear him say my name. “London, thank you.”

My mind is reeling as I take some extra blankets from the storage closet. This has got to be the most awkward night, ever. What do I say? How do I treat him? Damnit. I’m at a loss. I don’t realize I’m staring off into space until Bronx gives me a nudge on my behind. I look down at him and he grumbles at me. I swear he’s almost rolling his eyes. Even he’s exasperated with me. I know I’m overthinking this. God, London. Get your wits together and just… talk. Like two mature adults. Bronx saunters into the bedroom, hops into his doggy bed and curls up and I know he’s turning in for the night. Damn. Not even the dog to distract me from the awkwardness.

Brian is sitting cross legged in front of the fireplace, holding his hands in front of him and occasionally rubbing them together. His jacket is off and he’s wearing a maroon cable knit sweater with khakis. Why, why for the love of God does he have to look so good? Even in a damn snowstorm. He looks over at me as I approach and I feel the blush creeping on my face as I set the blankets down on the couch. He turns to me, the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, somehow making them bluer. Is that even possible?

“You can sleep here or in the guest bedroom just down the hall,” I murmur, not too sure what to do with myself.

“London, I just want to thank you again.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You don’t have to thank me all night, Brian.”

“I know, it’s just-“ he sighs and I see a flicker of regret in his eyes. “After the way I’ve treated you.”

I shake my head. “Let’s not go there, please.”

“No.” His voice has changed. It’s resigned, clipped and I’m taken back. Ever so unpredictable Brian is back. He shifts and he’s standing in front of me, looking me in the eyes. I swallow. “We need to talk about this, London. This can’t keep going, especially now that I’m here. We’re neighbours - we can’t avoid each other forever.”

“Not until you move out,” I mutter, more to myself but I know it’s loud enough for him to hear.

He sighs. “London, please.”

I shrug and take a seat on the couch. “Then talk.”

He gives me a pointed look, that same one from the first day. How can this man make me feel so many emotions at once? And I barely know him. He takes a seat next to me, curling one leg under him, his body towards mine. “London, I can’t be who you want me to be.”

I stare at him, and a laugh escapes my lips. “That’s what it is? Brian, I’m over that. I’ve figured that out for myself. Besides, I’ve never asked you to be anyone.”

“I know, but-“ He sighs again and runs a hand through his curly auburn hair, which I’ve noticed has grown and is now falling halfway across his forehead. He looks good. His jaw clenches. “That night I told you to leave, I drank myself to oblivion.” His voice is quiet now and his eyes don’t meet mine. “It was the last thing I wanted to do, was to push you away like that.” He continues. “I drank and I ate all of your fudge.” He laughs, but not a joyful one.

Wow. This is news to me. “So, then why you did you do it?” I ask. My voice has lost its edge and I’m looking at him, searching for a clue. Anything. He is so mysterious, it annoys the shit out of me.

“Because London, I can’t give you what you want!”

“And what is it that I want? What have I ever asked for?” I challenge him and our eyes meet, intense and burning. He’s silent. “I’ve never asked anything of you. It just happened.”

“I can’t give you that Shakespeare bullshit. In my world, there are no flowers, no chocolates, and romantic bubble baths. It’s dark and twisted.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And what gave you the idea that I’m into that Shakespeare bullshit?”

He takes a deep breath and his arms raise, his hands wanting to cup my face but he puts them back down. “You are so… so difficult,” he breathes. “London, I see you and you’re so full of life. You’re smiling, eyes and heart filled with this fire that is so refreshing for someone like me.”

“Someone… like you?”

“I don’t want to put that fire out. You don’t know who I am, London. You don’t know what I’ve been through and why I can’t ever be in a relationship or have something even close to it. Then there’s you, you deserve all of that. I can’t give you that. I’m telling you to stay away.”

“So, you just automatically assumed that’s exactly what I wanted? How do you know I want something like that so quickly?” We’ve somehow moved closer together now, the intensity between us building. You could cut the tension with a knife.

“London, you’re beautiful. A queen to be taken care of. Not, not to be treated with uncertainty.”

“I can take care of myself.”

He closes his eyes, and when he opens them they’re filled with anguish, confusion, longing, and so many other things I can’t place. “What we’ll have…” he pauses, as if contemplating the morality of his thoughts. “I want you,” he breathes. “From the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted you.”

Whoah. Ever so unpredictable. The mood has changed so fast that I feel the whiplash. “Then why push me away?” I whisper and he takes a sharp intake of breath.

“I never meant to,” he says, taking my chin and tilting it up so I’m looking up at him. “All we’ll ever have is physical. That can get so complicated.” He’s staring at me, eyes alight with something new.

I mull it over in my head. Why can’t he look a thousand times less attractive? This would’ve been so much easier. I am so shallow sometimes. But who can resist this man in front of me? “I’m not ready for a relationship, and I won’t be for a long time. I know.”

“This puts us in the same boat.”

“This can get complicated.” I sigh and slump down into the couch. “Or maybe we’re overthinking things.”

He contemplates this. “Maybe so.” He takes my hand then and I feel a jolt where my heart is supposed to be had it not been in my throat this whole time. “London, I’m here,” he says softly, staring at me straight in the eyes. He is so damn beautiful. “Whatever you decide. If you want to go running for the hills, I understand. If you want to do this, I’m giving you fair warning now that I can’t be more for you. I think that’s pretty fair.”

The silence is almost deafening. He has warned me, time and again. And still, here I am hesitating on his proposition. Nothing more than physical. This would mean… I swallow as the memory of his mouth crashing hard on mine enters my head. Oh boy. I shake my head.

“I’d have to think about this,” I murmur and he nods.

“I would hope you do, and not do things out of impulse.”

I take a deep breath. “I just don’t want to get hurt,” I say, my voice barely audible. He gasps and my face is in his hands. Our proximity is making my head swim. I can’t believe I’m here again. Just yesterday, I hated his guts and I was sure I would never see his face. And here we are.

“Baby, I won’t do that,” he breathes and kisses my forehead. “As long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why now?” I ask. “Why, after almost three weeks of not seeing each other, you’re here?”

“Well, there’s a snowstorm,” he says pointedly and I scowl at him. He laughs. “Relax.” He takes a deep breath. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. I knew what this would implicate, snowstorm or not. If I really wanted to avoid you, I’d be at a hotel in town right now. But I’m not, London.” He intertwines his fingers with mine and my breath is lost, my heart beating rapid against my chest. “I was away this whole time. I needed to get away, from you, from this. I thought I could just get over it.”

“Is that why Nick came looking for you the other day?”

He gives me a confused look. “Nick?”

I nod. “He was here. And actually, I broke my promise that I’m supposed to give him a call if I ever saw you around but I guess I was too heated to remember at that time.” My mind flashes to the day he had saved me from getting hit on the street and how angry I was. Must he always be a knight in shining armor?

He sighs. “I’ll give him a call.” His tone is dark and I can tell he’s remembering something not too pleasant. “I didn’t tell anybody where I was going. I just needed to get away and gather myself. But, the more I was away the more guilt I felt. I couldn’t stay away. I still can’t.” He brings his lips to my hands and something in my stomach does a twirl. “But, it’s dangerous see. Because all we’ll ever be is physical. That’s what I’m telling you.”

I peek up at him through my lashes. “Only physical?”

He nods. “My life is fucked up, London. I can’t go farther than that. It would be a danger to you.”

I frown at this. “What you do mean by that?” Before he could answer, the timer on the oven goes off and I remember my slow-cooked roast beef. “Are you hungry?”

He grins. Mood change again. “Famished!”

The ending credits of ‘A Beautiful Mind’ is rolling on the TV screen and I reach for the remote to hit stop. Brian’s head is on my lap and there are two empty plates on the coffee table. “This is the best roast beef I’ve ever had,” he had mumbled in between bites. We ate our dinner during the movie; roast beef, vegetables swimming in the marinade, and wild rice. Brian had thirds, which oddly made me really happy.

“Wow,” he says, sitting up. “She stuck by him even through all his fucked-upness.”

I nod. “My Mom always said, no matter what situation you are in life, when two people truly love each other, they’re happy no matter what. Love is simple, she used to say, people make it complicated.” I stand up and take the empty plates.

“What happened to her?” he asks softly.

“Breast cancer,” I reply.

“I’m sorry, hun.”

I give him a small smile. “She taught me a lot of things.” I disappear into the kitchen and come back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, handing him one. He takes it from me, his look contemplative.

“We don’t have to be complicated,” he murmurs and takes a sip, eyes fixated on mine.

I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we could just be…” he trails off.

“Physical?”

He shrugs. “Whatever we are.”

I don’t even know what we are at this moment. Every fiber of my being is telling me to stay away, but I know. I know that I can’t. When Brian Littrell walks out of that door, I know that I would be waiting until he gets back – ready to take on whatever he proposes to me. Not because he requested this weird relationship, but because deep down, I wanted it too. I haven’t been kissed, touched, held in so long… And I never thought I would be interested in anyone because, frankly, I’ve steered clear of the relationship thing so much that I can’t even remember how to be in one.

But, then again, he’s right. Things can get so complicated with just… physical. Feelings arise, people get hurt. A memory flashes in my mind of how my last relationship ended and I cringe. “London?” he murmurs and I’m pulled back into the present.

I sigh. “What do you think?”

“Me?” His eyes look pained. “I’d want you to stay away, because you deserve more.”

I frown and my defenses stack up again. “Then... then maybe I should stay away,” I whisper. His eyes widen slightly and we’re staring at each other again, all intensity gone and replaced with something else. A desperate need.

“Do you mean that?” he breathes and the anguish in his eyes surprises me. His brow is furrowed and he takes my hands. “I can’t stay away from you, London.”

“This is why,” I say. “This is why, because you’re right – it will get complicated. It can get so complicated.”

“I’ll deal with myself.”

“And me?”

He closes his eyes. “I know, I know.” He groans in frustration. “Do you want more?”

The question throws me off and I think about it. “Frankly… no, no I don’t.”

“So?” When he opens his eyes, they’re burning again. Ever so unpredictable. “We both want the same thing, London. But I won’t force you.” He stands up and I look up at him in surprise.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I’m going to take these blankets,” he replies, picking up the extra blankets I had laid down on the sofa. “And head to your guestroom to turn in for the night, so you can have some space to think.”

Disappointment fills me, unexpected. “Brian wait,” I stop him, standing up. He turns back to me and I don’t give it a second thought. Suddenly, without thinking it through, my lips are on his - searching, needing, wanting.