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What in the world is she talking about?
“You must think I’m crazy.” She steps back, wiping at her eyes. “I’m crying. Again. I probably look hideous.”
I sweep a thumb over her cheek, gathering a fallen drop. “You look beautiful. Like always.”
She looks up at me from lowered lashes, her lips parting. This close, I can count each freckle along the bridge of her nose, wanting to smooth away the worry lines on her forehead and the brackets around the sides of her mouth.
This would be the moment. To bend down and kiss her. To show her how much I care about her. How much she means to me.
But after the way she reacted yesterday at Element, I can’t trust my instincts. And with how vulnerable she is after everything that happened, it should be her that makes the first move.
Except, she doesn’t.
Her gaze searches mine, but I have no idea what she’s looking for, what she’s thinking.
She steps back further, breaking eye contact. “You don’t have to say stuff like that.”
Does she not like compliments? Am I making her uncomfortable? Shit.
“Sorry.”
She turns and goes to change into her work uniform, leaving me standing in the middle of the living room.
As much as I want her, I’ll be her friend if that’s what she needs.
Even if it kills me.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
TESSA
I wrestle with my uniform,cursing at it when the zipper snags halfway through zipping it. Can nothing go right today?
I take a deep breath, consciously relaxing the tightness in my shoulders, and finish getting dressed, not letting myself think about Austin. The way he’d called me beautiful. The way our faces had been so close. The way I could have sworn he was going to kiss me.
Wait. I’m not supposed to be thinking about that.
I’m obviously delusional. Trying to will into existence a chance to make up for the way I’d froze in the club yesterday. It wasmelooking up at him, making our faces so close.Memaking a comment about how I looked awful. He was trying to make me feel better. Being a good friend. He outright said kissing me had been a mistake. That he’d simply been in the moment on the dance floor, forgetting that it wasmehe was dancing with.
What I need to do is get over it. I’ve got bigger things on my plate.
I finish getting ready and head off to work, losing track of time in the hustle and bustle of Saturday breakfast and brunch at the diner. For how slow my shifts are on Monday and Wednesday nights, the weekend makes up for it.
After a double shift that has my feet aching, I grab two burgers and fries to go with my employee discount, hoping the food somewhat evens out the inconvenience I’m putting Austin through.
As I park in front of our building, a tall, blonde girl catches my eye, struggling to get a large bag of cat food and an even larger container of cat litter out of the trunk of her car. I gather my things, watching her for a moment, then decide to intervene.
“Do you need help?”
She glances over at me, a grateful smile on her face. “That would be great. Thanks.” There’s something about her that seems familiar, though I can’t quite place it.
I balance the cat food on top of the litter already in her arms, then shut her trunk. “Are you in one of the upstairs units?” If she lives up there, I should probably get to know her. Turns out it’s a good thing to get close to your neighbors in case something goes wrong.
“No, I’m going here.” She juts her chin forward in the direction of Austin’s apartment.
My stomach sinks. “Oh. Me, too.”
Who is she? A date? His girlfriend? Did I ever actually ask him if he’s seeing someone?
