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He was quiet for a long moment.
“You owe me two truths and a lie,” I said.
He glanced at me.
“From that day in the park,” I said. “You never gave me yours.”
He gazed at me, his eyes sad. “And I never will.”
We looked at each other and I swear his eyes flickered to my lips.
Why?
Why hadn’t I picked him when I could have? What was it about Mike that eclipsed Chris? Because I couldn’t for the life of me see it now.
“Do you ever think about why we’re attracted to the people we are?” I said quietly.
“Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just chemistry and you can’t explain it at all.”
“You can’t explain chemistry?”
“Not really. The thing with chemistry is that we just don’t know much.”
“How is that possible?”
He stared out at the bookcase. “We have theories but very few things have been proven. We know that things ‘are’ but don’t really know why they are. We know that opposites attract—protons attract electrons—but we don’t know the reason. Most of chemistry is based on sound evidence and data, not proof. We have some general rules, but”—he shrugged—“that’s the problem with chemistry.” He looked at me. “You can’t explain it. It just is.”
It just is…
Even if you wish it wasn’t.
We gazed at each other. I studied his handsome face. The soft way his eyes took me in. The cupid’s bow at the top of his lip. How his hair was always just messy enough to look like he hadn’t done anything with it, even though I knew he did.
But the most beautiful thing of all was his heart. He was a good person. Kind. Considerate. Gentle.
And not mine.
He did not belong to me. He never would.
I got up without another word and left him sitting there.
I went to my room. Running now from them both. But when I opened the door, Mike was sitting on the bed. He was in his snow pants, his helmet next to him on the comforter. He stood when he saw me. “Babe…”
“Mike, I don’t want to talk right now.” I edged past him to the bathroom.
He followed me. “Larissa, please.”
I spun on him. “Please what? What, Mike?” I shook my head at him. “You can’t even give me a full twenty-four hours?”
“I just need to know—”
“Need to know what?”
“If you’re gonna stay. I can’t… I can’t stand not knowing. Just please, tell me either way. It’s killing me and I can’t stand it.”
His eyes begged me.
I didn’t want to do this. Not here. Not now. Not trapped in this cabin, not with Chris and Heather kissing in the kitchen and doing things in their room—and why did any of that even fucking matter?
