Page 156 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions
“You remembered I play hockey?”
“You told me three days ago.” My flush burned even brighter, and I looked up at the sloping tent ceiling so I wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes. The truth was…I remembered everything Alex had told me about himself. Hedidn’t share much—so I clung to each tidbit almost desperately.
We were on a timer.
I knew that.
But I couldn’t help but feel greedy.
We were toeing a line between friendship and something more, and I didn’t know how to cross it, or even if I actually wanted to. My mom thought I did. Her reaction when we’d talked had made that clear. But my own feelings were far more complicated. Too difficult to easily understand—not without some deep, thorough thinking.
And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.
If I crossed that line, what would happen? After the wedding? When I went back to New York? Alex had made it clear he had no interest in something outside the terms of our “contract,” for lack of a better word.
If he wanted something more he’d say something.
He’d promised to be honest.
Which meant…I was stuck in limbo, waiting.
If I opened my mouth I could ruin what little time left I had with him, and even though “miscommunication trope” was one of my least favorites, I couldn’t help but feel like my behavior was justified.
What-ifs were too…unpredictable.
What if these feelings keep growing?
What if he wants more?
What ifIwant more?
Even though I know relationships rarely, if ever, were equal.
It was better to stick to what we’d agreed, and deal with the consequences.
It felt so raw and real and confusing to know that I had walls and fortresses and lines galore—and Alex was somehow allowed behind all of them. I’d been burned before. Badly. And I wasn’t talking about my hand—ha! Or my shoulders.
Was I…strong enough tosurvivethat again?
Another uncertainty.
I needed to make sure not to take this too seriously, or I’d risk falling even farther for him.
“George?” Alex’s voice pulled me out of my head. I blinked, shaking my head to clear it. “Hey…” He was in my space a second later, the scent of his cologne tickling my nose as his fingers danced up the inside of my wrist. “You okay?”
He was worried.
Funny, I’d been concerned about him earlier too—when his focus had drifted at the beach. The parallels between us were as hilarious as they were unfunny. Complementary, just like us. Black and white. Yin and yang.
“I’m fine, I was just…thinking.”
“Is that a good thing?”
I wanted to quip at him, say something biting to make him laugh. But…I didn’t. I was still fuzzy around the edges, and despite my tumultuous thoughts, I was full of certainty that Alex was here to comfort—no—Alex wasreadyto comfort me.
He saw it as an extension of what he’d done in the boathouse.
And who was I to deny him?
