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She doesn’t respond. And how could she? “None of what I’m saying makes sense. Itbarelymakes sense to me, and I’m the one living the lies, putting on the face, the facade, when all I want to do is crawl into the same hole everyone else around me seems to have done. And some days, I just want to fucking break down and beat the shit out of everything, but I can’t because it’s notwho I am. And then there’s the pressure to be what everyone expects of me. To be a good son, which yeah, I am, but I don’t know how much longer I can watch my mom struggle to get out of bed every morning and not shake her and sayI exist too, because she’s so caught up in what happened with my best friend, Mia. And Mia…. our entire lives, I’ve been her rock, her constant, and when it counted, I failed her. And now Mom wants me to actually work hard in school so I can go to college and get a degree, all because she couldn’t because she was too busy growing a fetus. I don’t even want to go to college. I don’t know what I want to do, what I want tobe, and it’s fucking bullshit that I have to decide right fucking now. Add all that to the fact that my parents can’t evenafford…” I take a breath. “I just—I need… I need…”
“I know what you need,” Jamie cuts in, andholy shit, I wasn’t even aware that I’d said all that,out loud, and unleashed all myfeelings, and to Jamie of all people. Great, now she has way more material on me than I do on her, which means she has the upper hand in this game. It’s like I let her peek at my fucking hand, and now she can use it to annihilate me.
“What?” I ask. God only knows what the hell’s going to come out of her mouth next.
“A hug.”
A burst of laughter emits from deep in my chest. “Ahug?”
She moves to stand in front of me and motions with her hands for me to do the same. With a heavy inhale and an even heavier exhale, I groan when I get up, raising my arms and rolling my eyes like the petulant child I am. “Fine. Hug me, but it won’t help.”
“You don’t know that,” she insists, raising her arms just enough to slide around my waist.
“I’m quashing your expectations now, so you don’t get all butt hurt over it.”
“Shut up,” she says, then adds as she moves in close, pressing her chest to my abs, “Keep your hands in all the safe places.” She shifts closer again, leaving nothing between us—no space, no air, no questions, and… nogames.
Her hands flatten on my back, her cheek pressed against my pecs, and she’s closer than she’s ever been.
Without thinking, I hold her to me, rest my chin on top of her head. My nostrils fill with her now-familiar scent, and I close my eyes, keep them that way.
“Your heart’s pounding,” she says, pulling away.
“Wait.” It comes out before I can stop it, and I don’t know… maybe she has some wicked good superpower, or maybe she just gives good hugs. “Your hugs hit different,” I tell her, my eyes snapping open, going wide, because what the fuck?Your hugs hit different?Who says that?
“They do?” She rears back so she can look up at me. With her arms still around me, her soft fingers splay across my hard back.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I mean, to be fair, it’s the first time I’ve hugged a girl without imagining them naked, so…”
She pulls away,allthe way away, and I stupidly miss her touch. And her smell.Jesus.“And you’re not imaginingmenaked?” She almost sounds disappointed.
“No,” I answer truthfully. “Do youwantme to?”
She shrugs. “Every girl wants to feel attractive, I guess. Even to a manwhore like you.”
“You are attractive,” I assure.
“Oh, great. A pity compliment. That’s where we are now?” she says through a giggle.
“No.” I’m shaking my head, laughing with her. “You are, in like…” Shit. How the fuck do I say this? “This kind of…”
“Oh my god, stop. I’m not your type. I get it.”
“Honestly, no. You’re not.”
Her smile falters, just for a second. “Thank God for that, right?” she mumbles, turning to get back to work.
I grasp onto her shirt to stop her. “Wait. That came out wrong.”
She faces me, her smile genuine. “Holden, honestly, it’s fine. I won’t be losing sleep over—”
“What I should’ve said is that imagining a girl naked is the first and pretty much only thing I do when I’m even touching a girl, but you’re… different.” Too late, I rush out, “In a good way! And no, you’re not myusualtype because you’re noteasy. And I don’t just mean sex, I mean, in general. You’re complex and unpredictable and….” I take a breath. Then another. “And Ilikeyou because you challenge me.”
And I like the way you look at me.
The way your eyes hold mine.
The way you can read me without forcing me to be an open book.
