23. June
JUNE
Okay, so kissing Ford Harden is probably not the smartest thing I've ever done. Not that I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life.
I’m way too much of an over-thinker for that kind of thing, but still.
Kissing Ford while a really nice—and on paper practically perfect—guy is waiting for me is wrong.
I know it. And Ford knew it, too. Bryan deserves better than this.
Than a girl who doesn’t want to commit because she’s too busy fantasizing about what it would be like to truly connect with the infamous Ford Harden.
I should’ve never gone upstairs. Yes, he was clearly hurting and needed someone to check on him, but it shouldn’t have been me.
I knew better, yet I still did it. Talk about taking a precarious situation and making it so much worse.
Why did I have to kiss him? Why did he have to be such a good kisser?
Why couldn't it have felt like I was making out with my brother so I could finally lay to rest whatever strange attraction I have with Ford Harden? But no, instead, he had to kiss like his mouth had a direct line to my ovaries, blowing my mind and every previous experience I’ve had with the opposite sex into smithereens.
And it was only a freaking kiss! And not even a deep, earth-shattering one.
It was soft and sweet and magnetic in a way a simple kiss has no right to be.
Nope. No one will ever live up to the magic of Ford’s mouth, and that is an issue on so many levels.
It was a kiss. It was only a kiss. I bite my bottom lip in hopes of erasing the memory, but it only amplifies the lingering tingles.
I am in so much trouble.
“Hey, you good?” Bryan’s hand envelops my knee as he drives me home.
I stare at it. His hand. It’s warm. Calloused.
His fingernails are trimmed short, and a light dusting of hair runs along the backs of his knuckles.
After I bolted from Ford’s bedroom like it was haunted, I ran into Bryan and faked a stomach bug.
He didn’t question it, and the best part?
He also hasn’t tried to kiss me on the off chance I’m contagious.
If that isn’t a win, I don’t know what is.
Now, if I could focus on what the heck I’m going to do now that I know what real chemistry feels like, no matter how unrealistic it is that I’ll ever feel it again, that’d be great.
“June?”
I look up at him. “What?”
“I said, are you good?”
Am I good? Well, I just kissed Ford, so there’s that. I lick my lips, praying it’ll do a better job of taking away the ghost of Ford’s mouth still haunting me than when I’d bitten my bottom lip. Nope. That doesn’t work, either. I can still feel it. The gentle pressure.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m fine.”
“How are the cramps?” he prods.
After Bryan came looking for me, Violet intervened, saying I had started my period and was in Jagger’s bathroom getting cleaned up. Talk about thinking quickly on her feet. If only I’d known before entering the room. Now I have two ailments to lie about. And lying? It’s not exactly my forte.
“Need some pain meds or anything?”
Why does he have to be so thoughtful?
“I’m okay.” My mouth presses together. “Listen…”
Just say it, June. Just say it, and get this over with.
“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and…” Almost there. “And I think you and I should just be friends.”
My body tenses as I wait for the fallout.
The yelling or demand for an explanation or crying, even.
I don’t know? I’ve never done this before.
All I’m met with is silence. I peek over at him in the driver’s seat, waiting.
For what, I’m not sure. His left hand rests on the steering wheel as he stares out the windshield.
“Say something,” I beg.
“Friends,” he repeats with a numbness I can’t help but internalize. Letting go of my thigh, Bryan grips the steering wheel at ten and two while my guilt ignites with a vengeance.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Bryan, you’re a great guy, and I genuinely mean that. You’re smart and kind and funny and—”
“You don’t need to do this.”
“Let me finish,” I beg.
“June—”
“Please.”
With a sigh, he squeezes the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white in the glow of the dashboard. “Go on.”
Well, shoot. Where do I go from here? I asked him to let me finish talking, and now that he’s given me the chance, I don’t know what to say.
If he were Ford, I wouldn’t feel the same pressure to speak as quickly as possible.
I don’t know why I recognize the difference, but I do.
Ford always has a way of making me feel like I have…
time. To gather my thoughts. To analyze what I want to say before I need to say it.
But with Bryan, all I feel is pressured to say the perfect thing and quickly, too.
Before he loses patience. Before he jumps to conclusions.
“You’re also a really good kisser,” I add, hoping to break the tension.
His laugh is sardonic at best. “Glad I’m good for something.”
“You’re good for a lot of things, Bryan,” I say with a warm smile. “It’s just…you deserve a girl who’s as invested in this as you are, and I’m…” Why is this so hard? “I’m…”
“Not,” he finishes for me.
Gah! Why is this so hard? And why does he have to be taking this so well? It’d be so much easier if he screamed at me or something. Made me feel like I was dodging a bullet by ending things before they could get too far. Instead, all I feel is remorse. Again. Seems it’s a common theme this evening.
Looking down at my hands in my lap, I repeat, “You’re a really good guy, Bryan. And I promise I’m not just saying that.”
His nod is slow as he pulls into my apartment’s parking lot. “No worries, June.”
No worries? How can he say that? I feel awful over here. And he’s simply…taking it in stride. “I really do like you,” I add. “Seriously—”
He shifts in his seat, flexing his hand along the steering wheel before looking over at me and finally putting me out of my misery. “You’re not used to breaking guys’ hearts, are you?” he says.
Breaking his heart? Is that what I’m doing?
I press my lips together, refusing to inadvertently rub dirt in the wound that is said heartbreak.
He really is a good guy. He’s just not the guy for me.
At least not until whatever is going on between me and Ford plays out.
Gah! That makes me sound like I’m a horrible human being.
And maybe I am. Like he said, I’ve never done this before. Am I completely ruining this?
My nose scrunches. “Am I that obvious?” I ask.
“Only a little.” His quiet chuckle reverberates through the cab of his truck. “I get it, though.” With a forced smile, he pulls up alongside the curb in front of my building. “If you ever change your mind, give me a call.”
And swoon.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. And apologizing. Honestly, I’m on the precipice of both. Seriously. He is such a good guy. “Okay, Bryan,” I murmur. “If I ever get my head out of my butt, I’ll definitely give you a call.”
Glancing over at me, he leans over the center console and kisses my cheek. “I look forward to it.”