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Her nose wrinkles as she tilts her head back. “How do you still smell like cinnamon even when you’re sweaty?”
I grin as I play with the end of her ponytail. “I’m not that sweaty. We’d only been playing for about twenty minutes when the bee attacked Mark.”
“Were you winning?”
“Of course.”
“I was wondering why you were texting mid-game,” she says.
I raise one eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Sydney came over, and I got distracted.”
My hands move an inch higher, fingers brushing across the sides of her rib cage.
“Holden…” Any chastisement in her voice is drowned out by the lust.
“What? Your shirt is soft.”
“It’s your shirt,” she whispers. “I stole it out of your gym bag…that night.”
I know which night she’s referring to. It’s an ugly, unpleasant memory, but her words erase a little bit of the sting.
“Why?”
Her fingers twist the fabric of my shirt, her gaze focused on my chest instead of meeting my eyes. “You weren’t supposed to agree.” She mutters the words, so softly I can hardly hear them.
My brow furrows. “You told me—”
“I know what I said. I was trying to—I don’t know. I wanted you to fight. And when you didn’t…I got scared. So I stole your shirt.” She makes a face. “It felt stupid when I did and it sounds even stupider now that I’m admitting it.”
My grip on her tightens. “It’s not stupid. I-I didn’t know you wanted me to fight, flower. I was fucking terrified of losing you. Iamfucking terrified of losing you. So I was trying to do exactly what you asked. Trying to do whatever it took to keep that from happening.”
“I know,” she says softly. “I know I sent some mixed signals.”
“You can take as many of my clothes as you want, Cas.”
She smiles, her eyes fluttering closed when my hands creep even higher up her back. “Don’t tempt me. Not only are your shirts super comfortable, but I kinda like the way you look without them.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” I feel her lips curve upward against mine.
Our kiss starts off slow and soft. Sweet. Then turns into heat and intensity.
A throat clears behind us. I pull away reluctantly, dropping my hands, then glancing over one shoulder.
Sydney smirks at us between sips of water. For the most part, my sister has been supremely cool about me dating her best friend, so I try not to make it more awkward for her.
“You guys done?”
I steal one last kiss, squeezing Cassia’s hip before I step away. “For now. Text me back, Cas.”
I grin at her, then head down the hallway, only pausing to grab my bag before continuing toward my bedroom. Or the place where I rarely sleep, rather. I haven’t spent more than one night straight here since January. Gone at school or camp or staying at Finn’s. It feels like living in a hotel.
I toss my bag on the bed, unzipping it and starting to sort through the empty water bottles and extra socks I need to clear out. Cassia isn’t the only one who’s put off packing. Most of my belongings are dirty or jumbled or both.
There’s a soft knock on the doorframe. I glance up to see Sydney standing there.
