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I was not going to give in to him. He wanted me to do it now, but I would text Noah in my own time.

I would.

I was not. Giving. In.

Especially not to my brother.

“You’re so damn stubborn.” He got up with a shake of his head and headed for the door. He paused there before he looked over his shoulder and met my eyes. “Reagan, if you like this guy, you have to go for it. If I hadn’t done the kissing booth, me and Halley never would have gotten together. Don’t make the same mistake we almost did, all right?”

I said nothing. I jerked my head in acknowledgement of what he’d said and held the cushion back against my body again.

A few seconds later, the front door closed, leaving me alone once again.

He had a point. I knew he did. I had, after all, spent years winding up both Preston and Halley about their lack of action with their feelings for one another. Yet here I was, doing the exact same thing.

Being a huge pussy.

“Ugh!” I snatched up my phone and opened the message thread with Noah before I changed my mind.

ME: I need to tell you something.

Now I had to sit here all damn evening, waiting for his reply.

Actually, no. I didn’t.

Instead of doing that, I scrolled to the group text with Halley and Ava.

ME: I did it.

Their responses were quicker than Noah’s as-yet inexistent one.

AVA: You texted Noah?

HALLEY: It’s about time. What did he say?

ME: Nothing yet. I said I needed to talk to him and he hasn’t replied yet.

HALLEY: That’s hardly telling him.

AVA: That’s not asking him out.

ME: I didn’t want to blindside him.

HALLEY: I’m going to blindside you one of these days.

ME: HEY!

AVA: She’s right. You just need to get on with it.

ME: I’m waiting for him to reply. It’s hardly me stalling.

AVA: Yes, it is.

HALLEY: You could have just started off with asking him out.

ME: I’m regretting texting you two.

AVA: As you should.

ME: Mm.

HALLEY: Did he reply yet?

ME: No. I would tell you if he had.

AVA: He’s slow.

ME: No, we’re all just abnormally attached to our phones.

HALLEY: I’m not going to argue that.

HALLEY: Hey! Betty had her babies last night.

ME: How do you know that?

AVA: Because she’s the raccoon whisperer.

HALLEY: You’re right. This was a terrible idea to start this conversation.

I nodded, even though neither of them could see me. The only time the group text chat ever worked was when we were out drinking and we lost each other in the bathroom or something equally ridiculous.

For general talking purposes? It was a stupid thing.

I was about to type a response agreeing with Halley when a bubble popped up at the top of my screen.

NOAH: What’s up?

I tapped on it, bringing up his message thread instead of the group chat. My thumbs hovered over the screen, and I drew in a deep breath as I readied myself for my admission.

This. Was. Ridiculous.

I was ridiculous.

Jesus.

ME: It’s kinda weird.

NOAH: I’ve come to expect a certain level of weirdness from our conversations. I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t a hint of it in every chat.

ME: Good to know. That makes this easier.

NOAH: Shoot.

ME: You know when I was in the fire?

NOAH: You were in a fire??? When???

ME: Omg. Shut up.

NOAH: Hahahaha. Sorry. Carry on.

I took a deep breath and huffed it out. Insufferable man.

ME: I was on the phone to Polly while I was waiting for us to be rescued and I kind of promised myself something.

NOAH: I have questions.

ME: …

NOAH: Who is Polly? And what did you promise yourself?

Of course.

ME: Polly is the 911 girl who answered when I called.

ME: And, um, I kinda promised myself that if I survived the fire, I’d find out where you lived, and if it was close by, I’d ask you out.

I hit send.

Oh, my God. I hit send. I did it.

I blew out a long breath and sat back, staring at the screen as I waited for his reply.

And it didn’t come.

The clock in the top corner ticked over. Minutes passed until it’d been fifteen minutes and he hadn’t replied.

I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut and punched in the throat. Sure, there was probably a totally reasonable explanation for why it was taking him fifteen minutes to reply to me, but who wanted a reasonable explanation when they’d just asked a guy out?

I didn’t.

I wanted a response.

It didn’t look like I was getting one.

Shit.

CHAPTER ELEVEN – REAGAN

Fifteen Pounds Is More Than You Think

The store was fucking freezing.

Usually, the cold temperatures didn’t bother me. I was used to it, after all. After nearly a week away, apparently my body had reset itself to factory settings.

I tugged my hoodie down over my head and pulled my stool back under me. There was an order list as long as my arm that my mom didn’t trust Aunt Bethel to put together. I didn’t trust her to run the register, either, but she was.

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