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“I know that, Cal.”
“I don’t think you do. I’m not talking about the love I have for you as a friend. That will always be there, sure. But this is so much fucking more than that.”
“Callum, don’t?—”
“I know I’m being selfish. But I just need to get this out ... Lila, the way I feel when you’re in my arms, the way I’ve always felt. God, I think I’ve fucking yearned for you since before we were even old enough to know what the word meant.”
“Are you saying that you . . .”
“Yes, I’m saying that I want you. In every possible way. But if you don’t feel the same, if you never could, then just let me down gently. I still want to be around you. In any way that you’ll allow me to.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” I say, my heart sinking. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you how I feel. Just this once.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just . . . I don’t know how to put this into words myself.”
There’s that glimmer of hope again. “Try? For me.”
“I’ve always loved you, even when we were kids. I just didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. I was so scared of ruining our friendship, of losing you altogether. And then when we drifted apart, I convinced myself that it was for the best.”
“It wasn’t.”
“No, it wasn’t. But we almost kissed, you know? And I didn’t know what to do anymore. Didn’t know how to be around you in the same way.”
My heart stutters, confusion seeping into my veins. “When?”
“That night at the four statues? We were sitting on the bench. I was cold, and you were holding me. I looked at you, and I swear your lips brushed mine ... just for a fraction of a second.”
“And that’s why you pulled away from me? From our friendship?”
“It was just too much.”
I shake my head in disbelief, rubbing at my temples. “Lila, that was one of about a thousand times that I almost kissed you. The fact you didn’t notice until that night is kind of embarrassing for me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not even for a second.”
“When?”
“How about when we were ten, and you wore that blue sundress to Bobby Macolm’s birthday party? Or when we were twelve, and I accidentally threw a baseball through your parents’ window. You took the blame for me that time. Or maybe when we were fourteen, and you went to the Sadie Hawkins dance with Derek fucking Walsh. Wanted to beat the shit out of him then, too.”
She huffs in disbelief. “Since when are you so possessive?”
“Since the day we met.” I pull her closer, staring into her eyes. They’re the same sage green—perfect and piercing—that I’ve wasted the last three years missing. “What I’m trying to say is that I’ve wanted to kiss you so many times over the past twelve years. And if you’d given me a single sign that you wanted me to, then I would’ve dived in headfirst.”
“I gave you signs, Callum.” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t put that on me.”
“Maybe you did.” I breathe a weighted sigh. “I’m sorry. I guess I just never wanted to assume anything. I always thought if you felt the same way that I did, you would’ve said something by now.”
“You didn’t say anything, either. And I was terrified.”
“I don’t blame you. I mean, look at us now. Here we are, confessing our love for each other, years later than we should’ve.” I chuckle bitterly. “Timing is a bitch.”
“You’re telling me.” She takes my hand, threading our fingers together. “But I don’t care about the timing. I just care about you, about us. What we have now. What we could have for ... the rest of our lives.”
“You mean that?”
