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She collapses against me, panting as though she’s just run a mile.
“Fuck, that was…” She trails off, pressing her face into my chest before she laughs.
I grin and wrap both arms around her, holding her tight against me. Then I shift us so we’re lying on our sides, facing each other.
She watches me for a long beat, her eyes searching mine. “Kiss me,” she says, her words aching with something.
Leaning down, I press my lips to hers. As hard as I am right now, I try not to pay it any attention. Because as incredible asthis was, I can’t let it go any further. I already fucked everything up by letting it gothisfar in the first place.
We kiss like that for a long while, slow and lazy and unhurried. She feels sated and warm tucked against me, and I try to soak it all up while I can. I run my hands along the soft skin of her arms, twisting my tongue leisurely against hers.
Despite all my best attempts not to, I have fallen wildly in love with Busy Mitchell. And now I have to break her heart.
She rests her head against my chest, one finger tracing a pattern over my ribs.
“I have to go back to my house, but…I mean…do you want to come over there? Stay the night?” she asks, then she rests her chin against the back of her hand, her eyes searching mine. “I don’t have the good a/c, but I figure it’s not so bad to be a little sweaty.”
I watch her for a long minute, trying to come up with the kindest way to turn her down.
But before I can even say anything, Busy must see something on my face, because that soft, content look begins to drain away.
“You still just want to be friends, don’t you?” Her voice is a whisper, but it’s not really a question, because somehow she has learned enough about me to know what I’m thinking even though I haven’t said a word.
“Busy, I…care about you so much,” I start, emotion welling inside me.
I want to tell her the truth—that I don’t just care about her, Iloveher…her and Junie—but I know if I do that, it will make all of this that much more difficult.
“God, I don’t…” Busy pulls back, shaking her head. “What the fuck was I thinking?” she says out loud, her question clearly rhetorical. “I can’t believe I…”
She shoves off of me, standing quickly and adjusting her top and shorts that were tugged in opposite directions.
“Nothing has changed for you, has it?”
A beat passes before I respond. “Nothing has changed, no.”
She stares at me for a long minute, and I swear to god I’ve never seen someone look so wounded and then blink it away in an instant.
“I need to go.”
“Busy, can we talk about—”
“No. No we absolutely cannot.” Her words are firm as she grabs her bag and stomps away.
“Please don’t leave angry.”
“Well, how am I supposed to feel?” she replies, spinning around and glaring at me.
When I don’t have a response for her, she presses her lips together.
“Exactly.”
And then she storms out the door.
chapter nineteen
Busy
I sit on my knees on the floor, looking at the camping gear scattered all over my childhood bedroom, trying to figure out what I’m going to use and what I can get rid of so I can make room for the things I need to bring for Junie. The Kilroy trip at the end of August will be my first time taking my kiddo on a real hike and overnight camping trip, so to say I’m feeling overwhelmed is an understatement.
