Me:
West Library. Why?
Austin:
be there in 5.
Oh god. Does this mean he didn’t pass? I shake the thought away and place my phone down on the table and flip open my notes again, highlighting the same sentence three times, but the words don’t register.
Footsteps echo down the row, and I glance up just as Austin rounds the corner.
There’s a soft smile playing at his lips, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. He looks so happy. Like his whole face is glowing from the inside out.
Without meaning to, I smile back. It blooms on my face before I can stop it.
“Hey,” I say, lifting onto my feet. “How’d it go?”
He doesn’t answer.
Just grins harder—so wide his dimple shows—and shakes his head once. He moves toward me and before I can say anything else, his hands are on my face.
And he kisses me.
My heart stutters and nearly stops the second I register what’s happening. His lips press against mine, and I’m too stunned to do anything but feel it—the heat, the curve of him fitting perfectly into me, the sharp little gasp that slips from me and melts somewhere between us.
It’s quick. Barely a second.
But it lights something deep in my chest I can’t explain.
My hands freeze at my sides. My whole body is still, except for the tremor in my knees and the rush pounding in my ears.
And just as quickly as it happened, it’s over.
He pulls back fast, blinking like he’s trying to figure out what just happened.
His hands drop away and he takes a step back. “Shit,” he breathes. “Fuck, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that.”
I swallow, nodding. “It’s alright.”
His fingers run through his hair, tearing his eyes away from mine. “I should, uh—I have… practice.”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile. “Of course. Go.”
He backs away, then turns and heads toward the building.
I stand there, staring after him, my fingers brushing my lips, wondering if the kiss actually happened.
It did.
I felt it. His lips on mine.
Soft. Warm. Real.
And now he’s gone.
I draw in a slow breath, trying to quiet my spiraling thoughts. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. Maybe he’s riding the high of getting back on the ice again, or maybe I just happened to be there, and he mistook adrenaline for… something else.
It didn’t mean anything.
