“I’m sorry. I’m a terrible person.”
I have no clue what’s going on in her head, and my arms don’t wait for instructions. They just pull her in. “You’re the furthest thing from a terrible person that I know. You’re an awesome person. Probably the awesomest person that I know.” Truth. That elicits a chuckle though, as if I’m humoring her.
“Seriously, Peyton. You’re kind. Selfless. Caring. You’re dedicated to your schoolwork. People love being around you.” Especially me.
Her head was on my chest, but somehow it snuck up to my neck, and I can feel her warm breath tickling my skin. This is the closest, and most alone, I’ve ever allowed us to get.
“You’re good. Really good.” I squeeze her shoulder.
“Thanks. You too.”
“Ha. Ha. I’m not looking for compliments.”
“I’m serious, Wendell. You’re….you.”
The self-conscious chuckle that gurgles out of me has me cringing. “Thanks, so about you—”
“That came out wrong. I just mean that there’s only one you.”
My arm still hangs around her shoulder and I pray to God that she can’t hear the thumping of my heartbeat or feel the heat swelling inside of me. Her words mean too much to me.
“The world is a better place for having you in it.”
She can’t possibly know what she’s saying to me. How she’s assuaging years of guilt. Mountainous piles of guilt.
“Wendell, I hope it’s okay to say this, but” —her eyes that inspire the ocean’s blueness lock me into place— “I love you so much.”
Rushing waves thrash through my mind. My legs struggle to find purchase on the ground solidly below my feet.
What the—
“As a friend. I really love you.”
Eye of the storm? I see you.
I clear my throat. “Ya. Me too.” Before I give her a soft kiss on the temple, I send her a smirk and speak words I’ve never before nor since uttered to any girl. “I love you too.”
Her eyes widen for a fraction of a hair of a second, assumedly because I don’t tack on,as a friend.Then, for the most bizarre and terrifying moment of my life, with her head titled up, I think she might be inviting me in for more than that chaste temple kiss.
As much as my body aches for more with her, I could never betray my friend.
“And that’s why I’m so happy for you and Mike.”
“Right. Mike.”
I know there was a pause between those two words, but it seems symbolic. “You picked the right guy, Peyton.”
She gives me a weird look that makes me fear I said too much, but then her expression changes. “Thanks for being my friend, Wendell.”
And like I’m condemning myself to the state rather than welcoming it, I say, “Always.”
Chapter 5
Peyton
“What about sex?” The bold question comes out of my mouth like a boulder that somehow gets stuck in his throat. As we sit waiting in an office for the justice of the peace to arrive, I watch his attempt to swallow but it ends in a cough.
“What?”
