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He smiles faintly. “Okay then.”
Realizing I’ve still got his shoulders clutched in my hands, I clear my throat and step back, giving him that space he so clearly needs from me. I don’t think I realized until this very moment just how…blurred I’ve let the lines between us become.
Because when I think about my other friendships—like with Waylon and Shawn…
Well, obviously I refrain from getting into Shawn’s space. But with Waylon…well, lately things have been different between us. We’re closer than ever before. And I guess you could say I’m a physical guy. I’ll catch myself mussing Waylon’s hair, or throwing an arm around his neck…
It’s as if that hug we shared outside his motel room months ago unlocked something in us both. Our friendship has never been as strong—as deep—as it is now.
But when I compare how I am with him, to how I am with Jeremy…
Not to mention when I consider the fact that Waylon’s like a brother to me—always has been, in a way—despite how much closer I was with Jeremy than him when we were kids…
Jeremy never felt like my brother.
The realization tears itself through me. I nearly stumble from the force of it.
But before I can so much as dwell on this revelation—pick it the fuck apart—or even process just how empty I suddenly feel, now that I’m no longer touching Jeremy…
He blurts, “Wait.”
My gaze springs up to his, my fingers stilling where I was anxiously running them through my hair. I release the gnawing hold I had on my lip ring, and just stare at him, waiting.
“I’m gonna…I’m gonna do something I probably shouldn’t.” His eyes ping between mine, furrowed with some undecipherable emotion, yet one that has my pulse quickening, and my neck prickling with awareness.
His body tenses, as if he’s physically holding himself back.
And then he strides forward, quickly, determinedly closing the distance between us—this distance that just felt like an endless well stretching out above me, so vast and sudden, as if I was falling, falling, falling?—
My arms drop to my sides, just as warm, soft palms cup my jaw, yanking my head down. Wrenched back to the surface—to ground level; gravity finding me once more in the gentle pressure of his hands cradling my face.
Jeremy’s lashes flutter as his eyes scour my face, cataloging every featuring, like he’s engraving it into his memory.
We’re chest to chest.
Nose to nose.
And everything’s suddenly brighter.
Louder.
“Close your eyes.”
So I do.
“It’ll be whatever eventually,” he mutters, “but for now…right now…”
I sense him lean up, stopping only a hairsbreadth away from my lips. His breaths are hot on my face, smelling of those cinnamon mints he loves so much and something sweeter—the Pepsi he was drinking before.
“Right now, I can’t stand the thought of never kissing you again,” he confesses softly.
And that crumbling feeling inside me is back, weakening my knees, sending my heart racing, like I’m suddenly eleven years old again, about to have my first kiss.
“And I know this is the worst place to do this—again—and probably?—”
“Jer.”
He quiets.
