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My laughter dies.
I’m suddenly aware of how close he is, how wrong this moment is. He’s still holding me, and the heat from his hands through my shirt is a foreign warmth I’ve never felt before. It reaches all the way to my bones. I’m afraid to look up, afraid of what I’ll see, but more afraid of what he’ll see.
When he doesn’t let go, I lift my gaze, paranoid that he can feel me trembling. He’s not smiling now. He’s watching. The intensity of his stare only makes the trembling worse.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and I feel the full weight of it. I know I’m inexperienced with these things, but it feels like that moment in a movie just before the couple kisses. I’ve watched plenty of movies about people falling in love. I’ve just never seen movies about people making love.
The draw is a lot—too much. This is what comes of being alone with a boy. This is the temptation they’re always warning us about. Over and over and over and—
Hunter reaches up to free a piece of hair stuck to my cheek. His movements are slow and cautious. The sensation of his fingers barely touching me crawls across my skin and travels down my spine. My breath hitches, barely, but he notices. He releases his hold on me and takes not one but two steps back.
We both look away.
He clears his throat and picks up the stick I used earlier, retrieving the rope in the same manner. ‘I’ll tie it to your side so you can practice.’
As the heat and adrenaline start to dissipate, I feel a bit sick. Sick because I’m in this high-risk situation to begin with, but more so because he was the first one to step back. That should have been me. I should have stepped back weeks ago. I’ve let it build to this. And while I have no idea what this is, I do know it’s wrong.
‘Just so we’re clear,’ he says, ‘I’m not going to be that guy.’
It takes a moment for his words to land. ‘What guy?’
His eyes return to me. ‘The guy you rebel with.’
‘I’m not…’ Heat floods my cheeks. ‘I told you already. I’m not rebelling.’
He nods, then heads for the bridge.
‘Why did you build me a swing?’ I call to him, regaining some of my confidence.
He stops at the edge of the bridge. ‘I certainly didn’t do it to get in your pants.’ He gives me a half smirk before crossing.
