The thought of him sends a ripple through my chest, tightening something I don't want to acknowledge. It's been four days since the party, four days since I let myself feel something I shouldn't have. It’s been four days since my body betrayed me, pressing into him, moving against him like I belonged there.
Because the truth—the ugly, undeniable truth—is that I did belong there, before.
Before I became who I am now, the leftover pieces that once were put together. Back when I had a heart capable of accepting the risk of loving something, someone, that could be taken away. Or worse—pushed away.
And that's the problem.
I stare down at the pavement as Lyla and I walk toward thecoffee shop for our standing Wednesday morning coffee date. I should be focused on the day ahead. On class. On the work I need to catch up on after skipping a single class in my very least favorite subject to avoid seeing Jaxon, even though I’m already behind.
But all I can think about is the way my body lit up against his—the way his breath burned hot against my ear, the way his hands fit so perfectly over my hips, the way my heart nearly cracked open when he murmured,You sure you don’t want me to stop?
I should have pulled away, just like I did one night before our senior year of high school.
We’re sitting in the back of his truck, legs swinging, shoulders just barely brushing. It’s stupid hot out—humid in that sticky, late-summer way that makes everything feel closer than it should. The kind of night that makes you say things you shouldn’t.
“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” I say, staring up at the stars like they might give me answers. “Senior year. Everything’s gonna change.”
What I don’t say is: I’m scared. Of leaving. Of staying. Of losing this.
Him.
Jaxon doesn’t say anything right away. I wonder if I sound dumb.
Then, quietly, he says, “I don’t want things to change.”
Something in my chest tightens.
“You don’t?” I ask, not looking at him. I’m not sure I can.
“Not with you.”
My heart stops.
I glance at him—slow, careful, like maybe if I move too fast, I’ll ruin the moment. But he’s already looking at me, and it’s different this time. There’s something in his eyes I haven’t seen before. Or maybe I have, and I’ve just been pretending I don’t.
He’s closer than I thought. Or maybe I leaned in. I don’t even know.
My knee brushes his. I don’t move.
“Jax,” I say, and his name comes out like a secret.
My heart’s racing. My palms are sweaty. I can feel his breath on my skin, and all I want to do is close the distance.
But I don’t.
I can’t.
“I should go,” I blurt.
His face doesn’t change, but his eyes—God, his eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says.
I jump down from the truck bed before he can say anything else. I don’t look back at him over my shoulder. I don’t trust myself to.
The whole way to my front door, I can feel his eyes on me. And the worst part? I want to run back. I want to kiss him. But I don’t.
If we do this and then he leaves…I won’t survive it.
