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I’m starting to think that despite him saying we’re always going to be close, we’re growing apart. That’s been my main fear since he started college. What if he has a girlfriend he’s crazy about? He hasn’t mentioned anyone and he always tells me, so maybe that’s not it. It could be nothing in particular. He could’ve realized that we were dumb teenagers and it’s time to move our separate ways.
The problem is I love him. Crazy, head over heels, dying to be with him, duct tape my mouth so I don’t blurt it out at every turn, in love with him. It seems inevitable that I’ve reached this point. However, I’m terrified. Especially because Ian doesn’t text me anymore for the rest of the week. It’s weird. It’s not right. Fear of losing him leads me to make a decision. I’ll tell him I love him. That has to bring us closer.
If he loves me back, that is.
If not? Well, I’m fucked.
“Where are you going?” Mom asks me. She’s popped into my room to find me packing a bag of clothes.
“Ian is coming for my graduation and I’m staying at the hotel with him.”
I can feel her glare into my back. She was pissed when I came home the morning after prom. She didn’t know which should piss her off more. The fact that I didn’t come home or that I spent time with a guy she knew nothing about. I had to fill her in about Ian and for the first time in years, she called my father to see if I was telling the truth about him. She was even more pissed when she then found out I spent most of the week I was up there for Christmas with Ian instead of Dad.
Mom is not a fan of Ian Rhett.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Well, I’m going anyway. He’s coming all this way, Mom. Why would I not spend as much time as I can with him?”
“You’re too young to be wrapped up in a guy like this, especially when it’s long distance.”
“We’re not in a relationship,” I immediately say. “We’re best friends is all.”
“So you haven’t kissed him? You haven’t slept with him?” My cheeks burn and she says, “That’s what I thought. It’s even worse that you aren’t in a relationship with him.”
“Mom, stop.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Ian wouldn’
t hurt me.” The words come too quickly.
Mom leaves me to finish packing and I wait for Ian to text me of his arrival. I’ve been feeling weird all week and I’m starting to feel sick, but it’s probably because I’m nervous. When Ian texts me, I leave the house without saying goodbye to anyone. No one is a fan of Ian, so I avoid their looks conveying that I’m an idiot.
I find Ian’s hotel room and knock. The door swings open. He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the room. He looks as handsome as always. That beard is still on his face. I don’t know what he would even look like without it now. Ian immediately has me pressed against the door and is kissing me. This is how I know things will be okay. His kiss is urgent and hungry like he needs me right this very second because he’s been starving for me. That has to be a good sign.
Soon, we’re in the bed and in the midst of things. Ian’s green eyes are wide open as his hips move slowly. There’s so much emotion there. The sensations are overwhelming. He brings us to our climaxes and kisses me softly, slowly, taking his time.
Before I can help myself, I whisper, “I love you.”
Ian tenses. Shit. That’s not the response I was hoping for! He pulls out of me, squeezing his eyes closed like it’s painful.
“Babe.” That’s it. That’s all he says.
My heart beats faster in preparation for the bad news as he rolls off of me and I cover myself with the sheets. I keep waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t. His eyes are closed. Every so often, he shakes his head.
“That’s it?” I whisper. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
He opens his eyes and turns his head toward me. “You can’t.”
“What? Why not?”
Ian sighs. It’s tempting to punch him because it’s one of those sighs like geez, do I really have to explain this? “It’s pointless right now, Sydney, and we’re just friends. We couldn’t have a relationship even if I wanted one.” He stops to let that sink in. The fact that we’re pointless. That we’re “just friends.” That he doesn’t want a relationship with me. It all hurts so much.
“You don’t love me back?” God, I need to puke. I swallow down the bile rising in my throat.
“We’re friends. That’s all.”
