Free Regret Me Not by Danielle Sibarium

lot lately. She's convinced they need to give her more freedom, they're afraid she'll fall into a backward spiral if they do.
    I open the door to my bedroom so I have an easier time listening. Clearly its not a private conversation, and I worry this will somehow interfere with my plans.
    "We didn't sacrifice all these months so you could hook up with some junkie."
    "He's not a junkie. And I didn't ask you to give up one damn thing. You could've just let me die and I would've been perfectly happy."
    This is a bad one. She hasn't tried to manipulate them with that line in months. Not since we found out I'm stuck going to a local college and living at home.
    "How am I ever going to earn your trust back if you don't give me a chance to do it?"
    She has a point. With Brayden's neatly wrapped gift in my hand I go downstairs. I have an hour before Brayden picks me up.
    "Come on," Jess continues working on my parents. "I told him I'll meet him at the diner, so you can drive me there, have dinner and then drive me home. I just need to get out and start having some semblance of a life."
    "If you pull anything I'm done with you," my father threatens.
    "Like what? You'll be right there, hopefully not in the booth next to us, but come on, you can keep me in your line of vision the whole time."
    I hear my father's long, drawn out sigh. It's the equivalent of a white flag of surrender. Jessica won this battle.
    "Hey, since you're going out, do you think you could drop me off at Brayden's?" I don't know why I ask. I know I might have just opened the door to an inquisition.
    "I thought you were going out for dinner?" Mom asks.
    "We are," I shrug, "but then we could leave right from his house. It would save some time. If not, he can pick me up here like we planned."
    "And leave you two alone in the house? No way," my father answers. "Let him know we're dropping you off."
    I smile, feeling giddy, not only am I going to have sex for the first time with my amazing boyfriend, but my clueless parents are delivering me right to his front door.
    *
    I stand outside Brayden's house, waiting for him to answer the door. I look at the simple, neat landscaping framing the structure. His house might not be as big as mine, but the love and care for it shine through in its immaculate upkeep. The door opens, and Brayden steps out onto the front stoop in jeans and a tight black V-neck. His hair is damp and I smell the clean scent of soap and powder radiating off him. He offers my parents a wave of his hand and a quick smile before they pull away.
    He steps inside the house, and before I have a chance to follow he turns to me, "Are you planning to come in or are you going to stay there all night?"
    "Ha. You're so funny. I didn't realize you're a comedian."
    Brayden reaches for my hand and with a flick of his wrist and a wicked smile, he pulls me inside. Standing a centimeter away he stares his hooded eyes down at me. I don't have a chance to speak before his mouth covers mine. His hands reach under my hair as his tongue travels across my jaw to the area behind my ear. Every touch, every brush of his lips makes me tingle inside.
    His hands travel down my neck, causing tiny bumps to rise as his lips meet mine again; they're possessive and demanding. Brayden pulls me to him, as close as we can be, cupping my bottom, pressing into me. His hands crawl up my lower back, under my shirt. With a feather light touch, his fingertips lead the way to my front, around curves, over peaks and valleys, kneading and squeezing as they go. His hands are hot, scorching, against my skin. At least I think they're the cause of the sudden warmth I'm feeling in my cheeks and throughout my body.
    I want him now.
    Now isn't soon enough. I want to succumb to the raging need consuming me. I reach for the waistband of his jeans, and fumble with the button. Brayden stops me, taking my hands in his. He advances on me, moving me backward, until I'm against the wall and can't go any further. Still