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Jimmy cringes. “You think that’ll be okay?”
“It’s going to have to be,” Caleb says.
“Two songs,” Jimmy replies. “Then I’m coming back for you.” He disappears back into the gymnasium.
Caleb lets out a slow breath, focusing on his feet.
“I thought you hated me,” I say.
“I could never hate you.”
I pull at my dress, trying to distract myself from the discomfort of the situation. “Why won’t you look at me?”
He waits a moment before he responds. “Because it’s not what you want. If I look at you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
I stare at the floor. I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat.
“Are you happy?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
My head turns to meet his timid gaze. “What?”
“Are you happy being apart? Truly? Because I’m not.”
“We can’t–”
“That’s not what I asked. I said, are you happy?”
I study the longing in his eyes. They drift from my eyes to my lips. His fingers are millimeters from touching mine. Is he forcing them back?
Despite my better judgment, I whisper, “No.”
He circles around to stand directly in front of me. His hand rests next to my head, and he leans in. “Do you really want to be apart?”
“Caleb, please. This isn’t a good idea.”
“Why? Give me one good reason.” His forehead rests against mine.
I search for words, but I can’t bring myself to say anything about his mom or my dad.
“So,” he says. “Forget about everything else. What do you want right now? Do you really want to be apart?”
My heart is being torn in two. I see Dad weak and devastated in my mind, but with Caleb here filling my senses, I can’t seem to pull away.
“No,” I whisper.
His lips crash into mine, and he kisses me like we’ve been apart for years.
My fingers are tangled in his hair.
One of his hands is on my waist. The other cups my cheek.
As I kiss him back, he pulls me into him, tightening his grip as if he’s afraid he’ll lose me if I let go. I rest my hand on the back of his neck, keeping him in place and nudging him to kiss me deeper. His kisses are warm and minty, drowning out the world.
But I can’t . . .
My hands drift to his chest, and I softly push him back.
His eyes search me, trying to read my thoughts. “What’s wrong?” he whispers.
