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“It matters.”
I sigh. What a ridiculous non-answer.
“I figured you didn’t want to see me,” I murmur, tugging on the sleeves of my powder blue sweater.
He watches my movements and I stop, like they’re some tick that can give away some inner thoughts I’m not even aware of.
He glides his fingers through his thick black hair. Clasping his hands together he gives me a peculiar look. “I always want to see you.”
He pinches his lips together like he’s admitted too much, even his tone implies something he’s left unsaid.
I always want to see you—but I shouldn’t.
Shouldn’t might be the worst word in the English language. It implies not to do something, but is also opened ended.
I shouldn’t be falling for my guidance counselor, but it doesn’t stop it from happening.
I shouldn’t have kissed him, but I did it anyway.
“You didn’t seem happy to see me yesterday.”
He rubs his jaw, brows drawn together.
“You have every right to be mad,” I continue, not looking at him. I can’t. Maybe that makes me a coward but I don’t care. “But I won’t take back that kiss for anything.”
He stiffens beside me. When he speaks his voice is ice. So unbelievably chilly. “You think I’m mad because of the kiss?”
My head snaps to him. “Aren’t you?”
I might be young, but I’m not dumb. He was livid the next morning, cold, distant. Yesterday, too.
He shakes his head, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. He stands, smoothing his hands down the front of his pants. I tilt my head up. “I’m not mad about the kiss. I’m not even mad at you. But I am livid,” his teeth gnash together, his hands fisted at his side, “at myself for liking it and wanting nothing more than to take you in my arms and kiss you again.”
I gasp.
“That’s why I’m mad, Dani.” The bell rings. “Show up tomorrow. I don’t like scouring the school for you.”
He turns, his long legs carrying him away and down the bleachers.
The door slams closed behind him.
And still I sit, stunned into silence, frozen in place.
Lachlan wants to kiss me again.
Chapter Thirty
“I think we should go out. You’ve been too quiet lately and…” I look up from my homework at Sage standing in the doorway of my bedroom with his hands on his hips. He blows out a breath. “And tomorrow is going to be rough for both of us.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s hard every day.” He mutters the last under his breath.
“I’m doing homework.”
I don’t want to go out, not when all I can think about is tomorrow being a year. I remember every day, but there’s something about the marking of a year having passed that seems so final in a way—as if death isn’t final already.
Sage wets his lips, narrowing his eyes on me. They flick over me, seeing more than I want them to. “I think you need to go out.” His tone brooks no room for argument. I’m sure he sees the dark circles under my eyes from not sleeping.
I close the textbook and uncross my legs. “Going out isn’t going to change anything.”
His fingers tap against the side of his leg. “You can’t hole up in here forever, Dani.” His eyes study my room, my cold white room that has hardly any hint of personality.
