One-on-one with Brian "B-Rok" Littrell
"Heads up!" someone shouts and you pitch backward to avoid being hit with the basketball that flashed across your vision. You hit the pavement with a thud. Your butt is sore and you're dead and bent on revenge against the person that nearly killed you.
"Why can't you be good, like Brian Littrell?" you screech, shaking your head.
B-Rok's the best, you think with a smile. He'd never kill me with a basketball. He's so cute too with that wavy hair and his bright blue eyes. You climb up onto a bench and proceed to drool over thoughts of your favorite Backstreet Boy, Brian "B-Rok" Littrell. His baby-innocent face and angelic voice seared their place in your mind. You admire his bravery through his surgery and laugh at his goofy antics displayed on the TV. Brian is indeed your celebrity crush and you'd die to meet him... maybe play a game of one-on-one. Of course you've been practicing so you wouldn't embarrass yourself if you ever got the chance to be face-to-face.
"I am good like Brian Littrell," a voice says with a laugh.
The sound sends shivers up your spine and you're afraid to look up. Oh please tell me I didn't just embarrass myself, you plead silently, slowly lifting your head.
The first thing you focus on is the blue Wildcats hat, worn backward... then the bluest eyes you've ever seen. The perfect smile and chisled jawline set you off. You find yourself apologizing profusely.
"It's okay," Brian says, flashing his trademark smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I almost killed you. I don't blame you for being angry. By the way, I'm Brian."
You can do nothing but nod. "Err... yeah. I know who you are. I'm not angry. I love near-death experiences involving basketballs," you joke.
Brian laughs, putting you more at ease. You strike up a conversation after telling him your name, of course.
"Wanna play some one-on-one?" Brian asks, after the conversation turns to basketball.
"Sure," you chirp, getting up. "But you're a heck of a lot better than I am so don't be surprised when I lose."
"How do you know I'm so good?" Brian asks, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Maybe your sources are wrong."
Brian's indeed as good as you made him out to be. Of course you're too busy staring to keep score. He easily puts the ball through the net and you both are out of breath by the end of the game. Brian sits down on a bench and takes a swig from his water bottle. He tosses it to you and you practically gulp down the whole thing.
"Thirsty much?" Brian asks. "Good game though. You're better than Nick!"
"Hopefully that's a compliment," you say with a smirk. Brian laughs.
"How about we grab a bite to eat. I'm starving," he says, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. "The winner buys for the loser."
You smack him lightly. "Now that's not fair. I thought the loser was supposed to buy for the winner."
"I'm feeling charitable," Brian jokes.
He tosses his duffel into his BMW and opens the passenger door for you. You climb in, staring at the lush interior. Brian climbs in the driver's side and flips on the radio before pulling out into the nearly deserted street. You surf the stations until you hear "Hanging Tough" by the New Kids on the Block. You burst out laughing and Brian makes you leave it on. He makes a playful face and starts singing along, doing little movements and everything.
"Think you'd survive if I cook for you?" he asks, turning to face you.
"I dunno," you reply. "Has anybody ever died from your cooking?"
Brian grins. "Not yet, but you never know. All I'm really any good at is macaroni and cheese."
"The food of the gods," you state. "Along with cheese pizza of course."
Brian nods. "You know your stuff." He turns into his driveway and once again you're staring. Everything is as you'd pictured it. He gets out his keys and leads you into his house. A little Chihuahua runs up and sniffs you. Brian picks him up and pets him.
"You must be Tyke," you say scratching the dogs ears.
"I think he likes you," Brian says, putting Tyke down and leading you into the kitchen. "He isn't going nuts yet."
You stare at the kitchen. "Impossible to clean much, Brian?" You gesture toward the mountain of dirty dishes.
Brian hangs his head, giving you a puppy face cuter than any puppy you've ever imagined. "I normally wash them right up, but I was feeling lazy today."
You roll up your sleeves. "I'll tell you what. The loser helps the winner wash his dishes, then the winner can cook for the loser."
Brian's face lights up. "Great! You've got yourself a deal."
"Alrighty then," you say, imitating Ace Ventura.
"That's my line!" Brian says, pretending to be insulted. "Finally a girl after my own heart!"
You almost drop the plate in your hands. Brian walks up behind you and runs his fingers through your hair. You turn around and aren't surprised when he kisses you quickly on the lips. Both of you end up blushing.
"Okay, now for the dishes..."
~*~*~*~
"You haveta call me. I wanna see if you can actually beat me next time," Brian says, pulling into your driveway.
"I'll call you," you assure him. "I promise. Wild Tykes couldn't keep me away."
Brian gives you a hug and walks you to your front door. "I can't wait to see you, and you haven't even left yet!"
You nod, barely able to believe what happened. You watch Brian start his BMW and pull out of your driveway. He waves and pretty soon is gone around the corner. One thing's for sure. You're never going to forget this day, the day you got to fulfill your dream with Brian Littrell.
