Tangled Little Truths A forced - Rachael Brownell

I kissed her and she ran.

She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and the way she was looking at me that night, the electric charge between us, had my jeans feeling snug the entire show. When I found her standing alone between sets, I couldn't help but approach her.
It wasn't my intention to kiss her. I should have gotten to know her first. Asked her more than her name. But after watching her while I sang my heart out, I wasn't thinking straight.
That was more than three years ago. When we were both naïve freshmen.
I've been watching her ever since. From afar. Like a crazy stalker. (Not my proudest admission.)
She's even more beautiful than the first time I laid eyes on her. So when I walk into the rec center and find her waiting for me, alone, with lust in her eyes, I pounce. Again. Like an idiot.
Only this time, I don't feel an ounce of regret because I don't plan on letting her run away from me again. She's been my inspiration for years and it's about damn time she figured it out.
There's only one way I can do that. I need to sing her the song I wrote about that night.
About her.
I could try to slowly weasel my way into her heart the way she has mine over the years, but I'm sick of wasting time. I want her to be mine today.
Tomorrow.
Forever.
Because the truth is. I've been hers since that very first night.

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