Chapter 25
MYLES
There’s a nervous lump in the back of my throat as we start the drive back.
I’m afraid because part of me feels like this is too good to be true.
Emma’s hand is in mine, and we’re on our way to the baseball game I’ve been dying to play.
Is this the way things are supposed to be? Could I really have everything I want?
The sun is bright and Emma rolls down her window, letting her hair whip back. She closes her eyes and there’s an easiness about her I haven’t seen in ages.
She isn’t quiet because she has to be. She’s quiet because she’s content, and that makes me feel confident in our decision to head back.
If she had been worried—even in the slightest—I would’ve driven us the other direction.
I would’ve driven to the other coast if I had to because I don’t want to ruin the progress we’ve made.
I don’t want to let go of her hand, and I refuse to go back to being strangers.
It would physically kill me after today because I know we still have something special.
Even after years we fell into sync so easily, it’s like we were never apart.
I steal glances at Emma as I drive.
I’d taught myself not to look at her after, but everything is different now. I give myself permission to notice her dark lashes again. How they seem endless, kissing the top of her cheeks.
Her lips curve into a soft smile, and my stomach twists into a million knots.
Emma Adler isn’t just pretty. She’s beautiful. But it’s not simply the way she looks. It’s the meaning behind it.
Her being happy is beautiful.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
She smiles. “Who says I’m thinking?”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t assume you know how to think.”
Her jaw drops. “Myles.” She lets go of my hand and swats my leg. “Shut up.”
“Hey, violence is not the answer,” I tease. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to see her laugh again even though I know I’m heading into dangerous territory. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can feel my heart opening wide for her already.
“Well, remind me to pack duct tape for your mouth next time.”
I smile. “So there’s a next time already?”
“I mean—I was just joking—but I don’t really know—”
“And now you’re overthinking,” I say. But the truth is I’m overthinking our situation too. What happens if Emma disappears? She doesn’t belong here, and if I’m being honest, I want to forget that. “Let’s focus on today.”
My arm rests on the center console and I open my hand, gesturing for her to put her hand back in mine.
“Good idea.” She sets her hand in mine like it’s meant to be there. “We can figure this whole mess out later.”
“Yeah,” I say, even though I wish we could figure it out now. I don’t like the uncertainty around it, but I know I don’t have a choice.
It’s quiet again, and I find myself wanting her to tell me everything on her mind. I remember growing up and lying on the grass as she talked. It made me feel important because I was special enough to be told her deepest thoughts.
I want to be special again.
“You never answered my question,” I say.
“Sure, I did.”
“No, you deflected instead of answering me.”
She clears her throat. “Since when are you a detective?”
I narrow my eyes, stealing a glance at her. “You’re deflecting again.”
She makes a sound crossed between a huff and a sigh, like she’s trying to decide if she’s frustrated or not. “You’re going to think it’s silly.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t laugh,” she says.
“I promise.”
She brings her legs up, sitting cross-legged in the seat as she clears her throat. “I was thinking about how much it would hurt if a bird flew into my arm.”
Here I was expecting something elaborate, and the whole time she’s been imagining a scene out of a horror film.
I burst out laughing. “What?”
“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” she says, scolding me, but she’s laughing too.
I tilt my head to the side. “Okay, but did you hear yourself? And”—I jerk her closer—“get your arm inside the car before you find out.”
“The odds of it actually happening are probably like zero point zero, zero, zero, one percent.” She tugs away from me, challenging me with her eyes as she sticks her arm back outside.
“And you really want to take that risk?”
She smirks, a coy little smile I’ve missed. “I think I’ll take my chances.”
“Well, don’t come crying to me when you end up being the zero point zero, zero, one percent.”
“You forgot a zero,” she says.
“Oh, hush.”
“I thought you wanted me to talk.” She raises an eyebrow in a playful way. “Already sick of me?”
“No, I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Having a bird fly into my arm wasn’t even on your mind until I brought it up.”
“True. But there are plenty of other ways you could get hurt with your arm hanging out there. What if a rock gets kicked up from a car in front of us or what if you get a sunburn?”
She gasps. “Oh, no. Not a sunburn.”
I bite my lip, refusing to look in her direction because I know her mocking expression would melt me. It would remind me of who we were. “It’s a real possibility, you know.”
“My skin doesn’t burn, it tans.”
“Since when? Last I checked, the closest you get to a tan is your freckles merging together.”
She leans closer. “When was the last time you really checked?”
I cough, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. I don’t understand how she still has this much power over me.
I know if I look now, we’ll be eye to eye and I won’t want to look away. The longer we’re together, the harder it is to resist pulling her closer. It’s becoming more than a want. It’s a need I’ve buried for too long.
Our drive home is much more entertaining than our drive up.
We talk about everything from our favorite foods now—mine is still gyros, but red curry is a close second, and Emma is into pasta, which doesn’t surprise me—to which of our teachers is most likely to survive on a deserted island.
At one point we were even singing along to the radio at full blast with the windows rolled down.
About halfway we stop for drive-through burgers and fries. Emma also gets a milkshake.
I park the car under a big maple tree so we can eat.
“You can’t get fries without a shake,” she says.
“What are you talking about?”
She takes a fry and dips into the shake she has wedged between her legs. “It’s the perfect salty-sweet snack.”
“No one does that,” I say.
“Everyone does it.”
“I don’t.”
She takes it as a challenge. She dips a fry into her shake and holds it in front of me. “You have to try it.”
I stuff my face with my burger and shake my head, thinking nothing of it, but then she hooks her finger underneath my chin and turns my face to her.
“Please.” Her eyes are big and round.
How am I supposed to tell her no when she’s touching my face? “Okay.”
Her face lights up. “Really?”
I nod, mesmerized by her joy.
She brings it to my mouth and I take a bite, freaking out inside because she doesn’t understand what she’s doing to me. She’s close, but not close enough. I want her closer because what if today is all we have? My heart is erupting and my brain is scrambled, nothing computing.
“Is it good?”
I couldn’t care less about the food. My eyes are on her. “Yeah.”
“See, I told you,” she says, hand leaving my face.
Part of me pulls away with her, and I can’t stand it. I miss her touch already to the point it’s painful. I need it again.
I grab her hand, and I put it back on my face.
I wait for her to resist and tell me I’m not wanted, but she doesn’t.
Neither one of us speaks, but I notice her eyes on our hands.
“Careful,” she finally whispers. “This is the kind of thing people do when they like each other.”
My chest is tight. I can’t breathe. “I don't think I ever really stopped.”
I’m drowning in her bashful gaze. The way her eyes dip to my lips has me screaming on the inside, but I stay still.
I think back to the last time I wanted to kiss her. How unsure I was of telling her how I felt because I was nervous it would ruin our friendship. But right now I’m certain we can’t be friends. Not like we were. I want more.
Her lip twitches and her eyes fall. “You can’t.”
“You don’t want me to?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “It’s not that.”
“Then why?” I beg.
“This is messy.” She looks up at me again. “I’m messy.”
I hold her hand tighter, gripping it close because I don’t want to comprehend the words she’s saying. “No, you’re perfect.”
She laughs half-heartedly. “I don’t belong here. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow? Doesn’t that scare you?”
It does, but right now it doesn’t matter. I lean in closer until I’m a mere breath away. “I’m not the scared boy you remember.”
Another beat of silence passes.
It’s so quiet I could hear a leaf hitting the pavement.
She meets my gaze. “Prove it,” she whispers.
My whole body is on fire as I close the distance between us and kiss her.
Her lips are softer than I imagined, and my heart stutters as her hand cups my face, pulling me into her like she wants me to.
This isn’t just anyone. This is Emma. The girl I daydreamed about.
The girl who knew all of my secrets. The girl I couldn’t forget no matter how hard I tried, and even after all our time apart, there’s still an undeniable connection between us.
A magnetic force so strong I know no matter what happens, we’ll find our way back to each other.
I’m not ready to move on. I need her hand to stay on my face and her lips to cover mine. I kiss her back like I need it more than air. Like if she stops, so will my heart.
This kiss doesn’t feel like a passing moment. It’s a promise that Emma and I are mending the broken bridge separating us.
This is how we were meant to be—inseparable.
She pulls back first. “Myles, we have to go.”
I don’t want to. I kiss her cheek. “No.”
“I don’t want you to miss your game.”
“Let’s miss it,” I say right before kissing her jaw.
“You don’t mean that,” she says, biting her lip.