The Pizza Place Romance Pt. 02

The officer seems bored as Mallory and Brandon give their short statements. By the end, she is fuming and makes no attempt to hide it.

"This HAS to stop happening," she speaks before the cop has a chance to leave. She can tell by his tone of voice and disinterest he wants nothing more.

"What's the point of a restraining order if the person doesn't follow it?" Mallory's hands wave wildly as she lays into the man.

"Ma'am, I'm not familiar with your case, but we're doing the best we can. Mr.Harris will be having a little sleepover down at the station tonight. We'll contact you if we need any more information." The officer pulls the door closed behind him before Mallory can get another word in. And there are plenty of them she would like to.

"Urgh!" her hands clench into fists, locking the door again angrily before turning and plopping down heavily on the couch across from Brandon. Silence hangs in the air. She can't think of anything but how angry and embarrassed she is. Brandon has no clue what to say either, but feels like he should stay, at least for a while.

"I'm sorry you had to be here for that," Mallory finally says, eyes closed. She's trying hard to fight back hot, angry tears.

"I'm not," Brandon speaks softly, coming to sit next to her. He places his hands on hers. Just his touch is enough to send her over the edge, her nerves are so frazzled.

"I just, I feel like nothing is ever going to happen, nothing is ever going to get done about this. It's not like the divorce will help either. I'm sure he'll find ways to make that a living hell," she huffs. He sits quietly, happy to let her vent.

Mallory sighs, taking one of his hands in hers. She finally opens her eyes and looks him in the face.

"This is the 3rd time, Brandon. The third! In just as many months. I can't keep doing this," she sobs. Without asking, he pulls her close and lets her cry. A million questions race through his mind, but he knows it's not the right time.

"I don't know how things got so fucked up," Mallory finally speaks after a few minutes, raising her head.

"Sshh. It's ok," he smoothes her hair. "It's not your fault. Some people just...lose sight of what's important," Brandon offers.

"I guess," she mumbles half-heartedly. "He wasn't always like this. I'm not trying to defend him, but, I don't know. I feel like people should know that. Maybe I just don't want him to reflect poorly on me. Who knows."

Brandon waits for her to continue, feeling like there is more. Besides wanting her to know he's there for her, he hopes it will answer some of his questions too.

"He was great at first, though. Otherwise, I wouldn't have married him," Mallory smiles sadly.

"We'd go places, do things together. We were so young, though. I really don't know what happened. The pressures of life got to be too much for him, I guess. He started drinking a little more when he started his job as a supervisor at the plastic factory. I didn't think anything of it at first. I knew he was under more stress than usual. I had been, God, why is this so embarrassing? I had been trying to talk him into having a baby too, before he even started there. But then a few extra beers after work turned into drinking every night. Then some of those nights turned into hard alcohol instead of beers. Before long, he got fired for getting caught with a flask of whiskey at work. Probably comes as no surprise he was already lit too when they caught him with it.

He tried finding a new job at first, but Hot Springs isn't that big. Word travels around. No one wants to hire a drunk. Not one that's not on a path to getting better, anyway. Too much liability. That's when he really started getting ugly.

I had already been trying to talk him into going to AA, or something along those lines, ya know? But he wasn't having it, didn't think he had a problem. Couldn't figure out what I had my panties in a bunch about. He'd been getting grouchy before he lost his job, but he was downright belligerent after that. Being unemployed seemed like the perfect reason to day drink even more to him. He never got crazy abusive, never slapped me or anything, but he did get...rough. I'll leave it at that," Mallory paused. The last thing Brandon probably wanted to hear was about her getting rough-housed into sex from her soon-to-be ex-husband.

"So, I finally realized there was nothing I could do for him and didn't deserve to be in that kind of situation, so I filed for divorce.

Well, as you can imagine, that didn't sit well with him. I don't know how, but I convinced his parents into taking him in. It's not that I'm overly attached to our apartment, but it wasn't as if he would be able to afford the rent with no income. And what little money he does have he spends on, you guessed it, booze. Plus the rent here isn't too bad. Having two jobs kinda sucks, but I'm making it work. I started working at The Pizza Parlour before I even filed for the divorce, of course, since we couldn't very well live off the money I make at Java Hut alone.

Oh. Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. You're probably wondering about the restraining order, aren't you?"

"I'd be lying if I said 'no'," Brandon admitted.

"Fair enough. I at least owe you that after the shit show you witnessed tonight. So Tim gets moved back with his parents. But he won't stop bugging me. Calling me, texting me at all hours of the day. I was scared to death my parents would call with an emergency and I would miss it because I would have to leave my phone off most of the time!

So I changed numbers, obviously. That didn't keep him away, of course. He keeps randomly showing up at the apartment. On good days, I can convince him to go home. I've even called an Uber for him a few times. The bad ones..." she opens her arms wide.

"I end up calling the cops. And this is the third time that's happened, like I said. I got the restraining order after he started coming to my apartment and day job. Lot of good that has done me," she rolls her eyes.

"So there you have it. Sorry I brought you into this mess," she looks at him apologetically, but he can see she's visibly feeling better after getting her story off of her chest. Brandon isn't sure if he should, but asks his next question anyway.

"Number one, stop apologizing. Number two, I do have one question."

"Shoot," Mallory gives him her full attention.

"Why didn't you tell me about the restraining order and all that?" he asks gently.

"Seriously?" she raises an eyebrow at him. Brandon nods.

"It's embarrassing. The whole thing makes me feel like white trash. Plus, everything's, you know, new with us," she gestures her hands between them.

"I was hoping the crazy would stay at bay. That's what I get for wishful thinking," she sighs lightly.

"I assure you, you are not white trash," he kisses her temple. "Just the victim of some unfortunate circumstances through no fault of your own. And I appreciate you telling me now," he smiles.

"Can I ask you something?" Brandon speaks after a pause.

"You already asked me something." Mallory's eyes glimmer with humor. He's happy to see her acting like her normal self again. For the sake of brevity, he makes puppy dog eyes at her and pouts his bottom lip out.

"Fine. What?" she giggles.

"I don't want to be out of line, but...do you want me to stay all night?" He feels exposed asking it.

"Oh. I, uh, I don't want you to feel obligated. Like I said, this isn't the first time this has happened, unfortunately." Mallory is stunned. She can't believe, after all that, Tim showing up and the sordid tale of her failed marriage, that Brandon is not only NOT running for the hills, he's offering to stay the night with her. Just to be with her. She's surprised she could even form a coherent sentence at all.

"I don't," Brandon answers plainly. "I want to, if you'll have me. I can sleep on the couch. I wasn't, like, trying to invite myself into your bed. I'm not up to anything funny. Promise," he sticks his pinkie out. He's successful in eliciting another small laugh from her.

"I didn't think you were," Mallory smiles back at him.

"And you don't have to sleep on the couch unless you want to." Was she really entertaining the idea of a sleepover already? It had been a rough night. She's beyond reading into things or deciding what she should and shouldn't do in the grand scheme of whatever is developing between her and Brandon. A warm, protective body in her bed sounds nice.

It feels even weirder than she imagined laying in bed next to him. Or anyone other than Tim, really. Mallory welcomes the comfort his presence brings, though. She's too tired to get caught up in the awkwardness anyway, finally coming down from her adrenaline rush.

"Sorry again the night ended so shitty," she speaks quietly to him in the dark. As her eyes adjust, she can just barely make out the outline of his face and torso by the light of the street lamp below her window.

"I'm just glad you weren't by yourself this time." A pause. "Besides, spending a night with you in any way is never shitty." More silent minutes tick by.

"Brandon?" Mallory pipes up again quietly. She can feel more than see his head turn toward her.

"Yah?" He sounds surprisingly unsleepy.

"Can I, um, do this?" She scoots her body next to his, drapes her arm around his middle, and lays her head gently on his chest. Immediately she feels like she's been transported to a warm, safe cocoon.

"Yah. Of course. C'mere," Brandon wraps his free arm around her in return, running his fingers through her long, chocolate hair with the other until she falls asleep.

Sunlight filters through the slits in the vertical blinds of the bedroom. Mallory stretches her entire body carefully so as not to wake her companion. The time on her digital alarm clock comes as a surprise. 9:15. She hardly ever sleeps past 8:30 on the weekends.

A warm sense of contentment fills her as she watches Brandon sleep, his mouth agape, breathing softly. She likes the feeling of having another warm body in her bed again. More than that, though, a caring one. It's strange to think someone does care about her again. Mallory has no clue where things will go with Brandon, but she's determined to hold on to the feelings he gives her as long as possible.

The one thing ruining the moment is her bladder. She doesn't want to leave him, the moment, but can't fight the insistent pressure any longer. Mallory sighs quietly and rolls away from him carefully.

"Where are you going?" she hears his voice rasp groggily behind her. She turns to him briefly.

"Be right back," she promises quietly. Mallory tries to get rid of the stupid smile on her face as she relieves herself.

"I tried not to wake you up," she apologizes as she returns to bed.

Brandon pulls her to him.

"You looked so peaceful," she tucks some of his shaggy hair back, getting momentarily lost in the blue of his eyes. Mallory is still surprised by how at ease she feels around him. She definitely wasn't planning or looking to get involved with anyone for a long time. But here she is, and it doesn't feel so weird.

"How did you sleep?" Brandon wonders aloud.

"Funny you should ask. That's the best night's sleep I think I've gotten in months."

"Glad I could help by being your human body pillow," he jokes before leaning in to kiss her. Mallory feels as if she'll melt into the bed at any moment as he continues kissing her deeply. Before long, she feels a hand trail down the side of her body, working its way between her legs. She suddenly wishes she hadn't been modest and worn pajama pants to bed. It seems every time he touches her, her body wants more and more. Mallory's eyes fly open when she feels the touching and kissing stop suddenly.

"What's wrong?" she can't stop the words from escaping.

His earnest look unnerves her.

"You'll tell me if I ever do anything you don't like, right?"

He doesn't need to specify. The implication is there.

So he does know, Mallory thinks. The conversation from the night before pops into her head.

He never got crazy abusive, never slapped me or anything, but he did get...rough.

She feels ashamed, embarrassed, and relieved all at the same time that someone else knows her secret. She had basically been raped by Tim on multiple occasions. She had never told anyone because who would believe her? They were married.

"Yes," she finally answers Brandon's question, stroking the side of his face for reassurance. He gives a little nod before leaning in and kissing her again, satisfied with her answer.

Mallory desperately wants him to keep kissing her until her lips are numb. Both because she enjoys his touch and because of his sweet, gentle personality. It's the reminder she needs that not everyone in the world is cruel and falling apart.

They stay in bed for a long time. After all, it's Sunday, their one free day together. What's the rush? As badly as they want each other, neither of them is in a hurry to finish things, relishing instead in touches, gentle caresses, and the feelings those things well up deep within one another.

Soft moans and quiet breaths of pleasure fill the otherwise silent room. Hands knead soft flesh waiting to be explored. Muscles ripple unhurried across shoulders and buttocks. Tender kisses right before climaxing blissfully together. Mallory's back arches, wanting Brandon completely, gasping quietly at the pleasure and fullness within her loins. She makes a mental note to remember the way his face looks, highlighted on one side by the increasing sunlight in the room, lips parted, eyes closed, brows furrowed in ecstasy it's almost painful.

At last, they release each other, but Brandon pulls Mallory close once again and holds her tight, occasionally kissing the top of her head. Neither bothers to speak for a long time. There's no reason to. It will only ruin the moment.

"What are your plans today?" Brandon finally asks.

"Nothing with a side of zilch."

That gets a chuckle.

"Are you sick of me yet?"

"I don't think that's possible," Mallory tilts her head up to look him in the eyes.

"Give it a few months," he jokes, kissing her forehead.

"Challenge accepted," she beams at him. He laughs again. Mallory admires the twinkle in his eyes and the way they bunch at the corners when he laughs or smiles. She loves being able to make him laugh. He was always kind of serious and didn't joke much with her at work before their fateful night the Saturday before.

"Well, if you're not busy, I was wondering if you'd want to grab some brunch and go see a movie?" Brandon looks down at her expectantly.

"That sounds good. But first, showers," Mallory boops him playfully on the nose with her finger.

"You know, it would save time if we showered together," he looks at her completely straight-faced, but she notices his mouth twitching slightly.

"Behave," she lowers her eyes at him playfully.

"Where's the fun in that?" Without warning, Brandon tickles her until she can't breathe.

"I'm glad I got to spend more time with you today," Brandon smiles sheepishly at her from the driver's seat of his car.

"Me too," Mallory returns his smile from the passenger side.

"Thanks for sticking around through all the craziness last night. I really appreciate it."

"Of course. Speaking of which, let me walk you up," he reaches for the door handle.

"You really don't have to. He hardly ever comes during the day," Mallory insists.

"Barring that, what kind of guy would I be if I didn't?" Brandon doesn't give her a chance to answer, walks around to her side of the car, and opens the door for her.

She feels herself blush for what feels like the millionth time in a week. She wasn't used to this kind of attention and didn't dare get used to it. Not that she thinks Brandon will turn into some kind of monster overnight or even over time. But getting burnt as badly as she had tends to leave people with feelings of doubt.

They walk hand-in-hand up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. It turns out her feeling of dread rounding the corner toward her hallway is unfounded. Tim isn't waiting there. She breathes a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Everything ok?" Brandon asks as they reach her door. She didn't realize it had been audible and felt a little silly.

"Yah," she says a little too forcefully. "Thanks again. For today. And last night."

"What about this morning?" he teases, lowering his voice.

"And this morning," Mallory giggles, rolling her eyes.

"I'll see ya tomorrow," he leans in and kisses her longer than necessary. She can't help thinking it's going to be even harder to pretend at work that nothing is going on between them.