CHAPTER TEN #10
He smirks, dead serious now. "It's only a matter of time before that boy wakes up and realizes what's right in front of him. And when he sees you in that dress tomorrow?" He whistles low. "Trust me, princess. He'll fall. Hard."
My cheeks combust. My entire body combusts. If there was a trapdoor under me, I'd happily swan dive through it right now.
I hide my burning face behind the dress. "You guys are literally the worst."
Mom giggles softly, leaning her head against Dad's shoulder before patting his chest. "Alright, Honey. Stop teasing our daughter. Dinner's ready. Let's eat before it gets cold."
Dad winks at me as they leave, Mom tucked under his arm, both of them still smiling like they know something I don't.
And me? I stand frozen in my room, clutching my prom dress like it's some enchanted armor that's supposed to change my life tomorrow.
Maybe it really will.
When dinner's over and I'm done helping Mom with the dishes, I head upstairs—only to nearly drop dead at the sight waiting for me.
It’s Zach.
Casually sprawled across my bed. Legs stretched, back propped against the headboard, hands tucked behind his head like this is his room and I'm just a guest.
My hand flies to my chest. "Oh Jesus, you scared me!"
The moron just laughs, like giving me a heart attack is his personal hobby.
I huff and walk into my bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and try to pretend this is normal—because, unfortunately, it kind of is. When I come back out, he hasn't even moved. Same exact position. Same smug expression.
I plop down at the edge of the bed and glare at him. "What are you even doing here tonight, Westbrook? Don't tell me you're planning on crashing here again."
Not that I'd complain. Not that my stupid heart doesn't want him to say exactly that.
"Fine," he says easily, flashing that grin. "I won't tell you."
I groan, smacking a pillow at his leg. "Seriously. At this point I should start charging you board and lodging. You basically live here. I could've made a fortune by now."
He smirks without missing a beat. "Oh yeah? With what I pay in snacks alone, you already are rich. Consider it rent, Sugarplum."
I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch anyway. Of course he has a comeback. He always does.
Zach shifts suddenly, swinging his legs off the bed so he's sitting right next to me. Close. Way too close for my heart rate to function properly.
"Close your eyes," he says. "I've got a surprise for you."
My head jerks toward him. "What? Why?"
He gives me a look. The kind of look that says God, you're impossible.
"Because that's how surprises work, genius. If I tell you what it is, it's just... news."
I snort. "You're such an idiot."
"Yeah, yeah. Now shut up and humor me, Sugarplum."
Against every survival instinct, I obey. My eyes squeeze shut.
"Okay," his voice drops softer, warmer, right beside me. "Open."
I blink, and the first thing I see is him—his stupid crooked smile—before he tilts his head down. I follow his gaze and—oh my god.
My breath catches sharp in my throat. My heart flat-out stops.
Sitting in his hand is an open velvet box. And inside?
The exact necklace. The Sugarplum Princess heart necklace.
"Zach..." It comes out as a whisper, my voice trembling. My eyes are glued to the pendant like it's the freaking Crown Jewels.
"It's a locket, actually." He flips it open carefully, like it's fragile. Inside, I see a tiny picture. Us. A picture of me and him.
And then his voice shifts again, all earnest, no jokes, no sarcasm—just Zach, stripped down to the part of him that kills me every time.
"I know prom's tomorrow. Probably too late to be doing this, but... you deserve better than 'probably.' You deserve to be asked. Properly."
My stupid heart basically launches into orbit.
"So," he says, lifting the necklace out of the box, "this is me—officially asking you, Caroline Bernadette Pennington, to be my date for prom."
The cool brush of the chain grazes my skin as he fastens it around my neck. His fingers linger for just a second too long at the clasp, and my whole body feels like it's glowing.
I touch the heart pendant gently, stroking it like it's fragile glass. My throat burns. My eyes sting. I'm supposed to say something—anything—but my voice is gone.
I'm too full. Too... everything.
"As soon as you told me about wanting to go as the Sugarplum Princess, I knew I had to find you the necklace to match. Couldn't let you walk in without it. It wouldn't be right." Zach adds quickly, his crooked smile returning just a little.
Then, his brows knit, panic flickering in his eyes. "Wait. You didn't already get one, did you? Crap, I should've asked first—"
That breaks me out of my trance, and I laugh through the tears threatening to spill.
Shaking my head, I manage, "No. I actually forgot. I was bummed about it, but... Zach, this... this is perfect. Thank you."
And he just smiles at me like giving me the world was no big deal.
I don't even think. I just launch at him, arms wrapping so tight around his neck I'm basically trying to fuse us into one human.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I'm babbling into his shoulder, squeezing the hell out of him like maybe if I crush hard enough, he'll feel just how happy he makes me. "You're the best. Best friend ever."
Best boyfriend ever too, if you'd just freaking let yourself be.
He laughs, muffled against my hair, arms banding around me just as tight. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're welcome."
Somehow, in the middle of all the hugging chaos, we lose balance and flop backward. His back hits the mattress with a soft thud, dragging me down with him.
For a second, we're both cracking up, grinning so wide our faces probably look deranged.
And then... the laughter fades. The grins soften.
Silence drops like a stone.
Because suddenly I realize where I'm lying.
On top of him.
And suddenly I realize how close our faces are.
Too close.
My pulse goes ballistic. My lungs forget how to function. His eyes—God, those enchanting silver orbs—lock onto mine, and then I see it. The flicker. The shift. The moment they dip down, lingering on my lips like they're magnetic and he can't help himself.
I swear my brain crashes like a bad Wi-Fi connection.
His throat bobs, swallowing hard.
And I'm internally screaming.
Oh God. Oh God.
Tell me I'm not imagining this. Tell me I'm not being delusional thinking Zach Westbrook actually looks like he wants to kiss me.
His hand moves before I even realize it, brushing that one rogue strand of hair that slipped down my cheek and tucking it gently behind my ear. The graze of his fingers lingers, warm against my skin, and my pulse goes completely haywire.
And those eyes. They're pulling me in, drowning me in heat and tenderness I've only ever dreamed about. His gaze doesn't waver—it's locked on me, reading me, consuming me.
Somewhere between my silent meltdown and trying not to combust, his hands end up on my waist. I don't even know when they got there.
All I know is he's pressing me closer. Close enough to feel his breath fanning across my lips. Close enough for my heart to decide it no longer cares about things like self-control.
Is this intentional? Am I imagining it? Is this just another cruel trick of my delusional brain that spends way too much time fantasizing about moments like this?
I can't tell anymore.
But it doesn't matter. Because right now, his eyes are pulling me down, down, down, closing the space that's always been there between us.
Fuck. Fuck. I'm really going to kiss him.
Why am I not stopping? Oh God. Am I seriously about to kiss my best friend?
My body's on autopilot, leaning in, lips hovering a breath away from his. Just a few more millimeters—Knock. Knock.
We jolt like we've both been electrocuted, scrambling apart so fast you'd think the bed was on fire. My face burns. His face burns. The entire universe burns.
"Caroline, honey," my mom's voice filters through the door, sweet and casual, like she didn't just ruin my entire life. "We're going to bed. Just wanted to say goodnight."
I clear my throat, praying it doesn't sound as wrecked as I feel. "Goodnight, Mom. Tell Dad goodnight too. Love you."
My voice shakes. My heart pounds like it's trying to beat straight out of my chest. And all I can think is—holy shit, I almost kissed Zach.
Silence.
Heavy, awkward silence.
I can't even look at him. My eyes are glued to the comforter like it suddenly turned into the most fascinating fabric in the world.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Zach running a hand through his already-messy hair, like he doesn't know what to do with his body.
"So, uh..." His voice cracks. Cracks. Like he's thirteen again. My lips twitch, because what even is happening right now?
He clears his throat, sits up straighter, then immediately slouches again, his hands flailing in the air like he's trying to swat invisible flies. "I should probably—uh—yeah, I should... head out. You know. Sleep. Gotta... sleep."
He points toward my balcony door, finger guns me—finger guns me—then instantly winces at himself like why the hell did I just do that.
"Right," I manage, nodding way too fast. My face is on fire. "Yeah. Sleep is good. You should... do that."
"Cool. Yeah. Totally. Tomorrow then."
He gets up, nearly trips over his own shoes, catches himself on my nightstand, then pretends it never happened. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sugarplum." His voice drops soft at the nickname, and my stupid heart betrays me all over again.
We finally risk a glance at each other, and it's disastrous. Because the second our eyes meet, we both break into these nervous, ridiculous smiles—like we're in on some secret we can't say out loud.
He backs toward the balcony, still grinning like an idiot, still pointing at me for no reason, before slipping out the door.
And I just sit there, clutching my necklace, grinning into my pillow like the lovesick fool I am.
CHAPTER SIX
CAROLINE