“I don’t fake orgasms,Peregrine.”
“That’s very principled of you,Gertrude. Come here.” He opens his arms to me and I snuggle close against him. I love the way he smells—just the bare scent of his skin.
“I’m going to miss this,” he says into my hair.
I trace one of the tattoos on his arm with my finger. “Me too.”
I know it’s insane to fall for a boy after such a short time—again. I know that the way a person seems on vacation is not representative of who they are in real life. I know that what I’m about to do is reckless.
But I can’t not say it.
It’s the kind of thing that you have to try, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.
“What if we didn’t stop?” I ask.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “My plans for you tonight aren’t over.”
I’m not sure if he really didn’t get what I meant, or if he’s trying to ignore it. But I want it too badly to take the hint, if that’s what he’s giving me. I screw up my courage.
“I don’t mean sex,” I say. “I mean what if we kept this going. You know… like long distance.”
He stills under my body.
I can instantly tell I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Hope,” he says softly. “I’m not…”
“Never mind,” I say quickly. “Ignore that.”
He puts his arms around me in a way that seems… sympathetic.
Sympathyis the very last thing I want from him.
“I’m flattered,” he says. “But I thought we said this was a way to say goodbye.”
“We did say that,” I agree tightly.
He sighs. “I like you, Hope,” he says.
The words are so wan he may have said “you’re a nice gal, but I’m not that interested.” I was not expecting him to profess that he’s madly in love with me, but it would perhaps be nice to hear that he still has feelings for me stronger than “like.”
That he hasn’t stopped falling for me.
“The thing is,” he goes on, “I’m not in a place to be in a relationship. Yesterday reminded me that I’m still wobbly. I want to be solid in myself before I try to be solid for someone else.”
I know for the sake of my dignity I shouldn’t argue, but this line of reasoning doesn’t hold water.
“Are any of us ever one hundred percent solid?” I ask.
He sighs. “Maybe not. But I’d like to be closer. I don’t want to live in fear of myself.”
Not living in fear of myself is what I’m trying to do right now.
I want to take a risk—on him.
It’s crushing to know that he doesn’t feel the same way.
Then he says, “And maybe you need to take a break from relationships too.”
