Chapter 16 #2
Her expression turns sympathetic. “The main character’s name is Juniper. West is the only person on earth who calls you Jupiter.”
Fuck. There goes my plausible deniability. “I swear I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know what I was thinking or why I did that.”
She tilts her head. “You don’t?”
“No!” It was an accident. Coincidence. Temporary insanity.
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Mars—it’s because you’re in love with him.”
Denial: googling can you unsend an email?
Anger: stonewalling Amber for the rest of the night after she had the audacity to point out something painfully obvious.
Bargaining: writing a text to West and begging him not to read my book. I delete it before pressing send, afraid that acting like a weirdo about it will only make him more curious.
Depression: vowing to never get out of bed again because a person as oblivious as me is a threat to themselves and society at large.
Acceptance: rereading my manuscript with a new perspective and admitting that it’s basically West-and-Mars fan fiction.
I cycle through these stages at warp speed, and by Monday morning, my life suddenly makes a lot more sense. Hearing Amber say the words out loud broke the spell I’d put myself under, and I have no choice but to admit that I’m in love with West Emerson.
It’s why I rarely feel the need to date or make out with anyone else and why West’s face appears in my head every time I sit down to write. It’s why his opinion is the one I care about most and why I’d rather spend time with him than anyone else.
It’s likely the reason that Bethany is annoyed by my mere existence.
And if West didn’t know before, he will once he reads my manuscript.
My only hope of surviving this situation with my pride intact is that he gets too busy or loses interest or suddenly forgets how to read.
I don’t know how I’ll ever look him in the eye again, but unfortunately, I find out sooner than expected.
West is sitting on a bench outside the languages building when I leave my afternoon Creative Nonfiction class, his elbows on his knees and his head down.
The whole campus smells like orange blossoms, and when I leave Tucson after graduation, I’ll miss West first, and I’ll miss this smell second.
It’s intoxicating, making me feel drunk on spring and sunshine.
I stop in my tracks and flash back to the first time I met West in this exact spot, with his skinny jeans, his colored nails, and his refusal to let me ignore him.
He was tall, he was funny, and he didn’t know it yet, but we’d spend the next four years revolving around each other, creating worlds out of thin air.
How could I not fall in love with him? And why is he sitting in front of me?
“West?”
He rises slowly to his feet, his thoughts masked behind a neutral expression.
“What are you doing here?” I glance around, looking for context that doesn’t appear. “Are you taking classes again?”
“No.”
“I thought you had work today.”
“I called out.”
A beat. “Are you going to tell me why, or make me guess?”
He lets out a ragged exhale. “I read your book last night.”
That’s—hmm. That’s less than ideal. “All of it?”
“Yes.”
I nod. Swallow. Choke on air that goes down like sandpaper. I forget how to breathe, think, move. I’m trapped between fight and flight, so I choose the third F: fucking lie.
I cross my arms to prove that I’m casual, that this is fine, thanks for asking. “What’d you think?” I ask calmly, as if my body isn’t malfunctioning in every capacity.
He studies me for a long moment. Judging by the pained look on his face, he’s here to let me down gently. “I think we should talk.”
Oh god. The cliché of it all doesn’t make it hurt any less. I am heartsick. Four years later, I finally understand the gravity of the word.
I take slow, even breaths and keep my eyes trained on his, determined to salvage as much dignity as possible. “Cool. About what?”
He frowns. “It was great, obviously…”
“But?”
He runs his tongue across the inside of his cheek. “Fox seems a lot like me.”
“You think?” I pretend to consider this; meanwhile, I’m in a full mental spiral. “I mean, I guess so. I didn’t do it on purpose.”
His expression flickers. “You’re telling me it’s a coincidence?”
I shrug as blood rushes to my face. It’s not fair that he knows I love him; I just barely found out myself. I didn’t even get a full day to love him before having it crushed under his heel.
“Sorry. If you hate it, I can change him in the next draft. I’ll give him two blue eyes like every other boring character.”
“I’m not mad; I just want to know what you were thinking.”
“I don’t know. When I was writing, you kept popping into my head.”
He steps toward me. “And what does that mean, Mars?”
“It means nothing. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“Is that what you want?”
“What else is there?” I throw my hands up in surrender, and a shadow crosses his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was hunger. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Last night I drove to Casa Grande to see Bethany.”
Damn, what a swift return to reality. “I hope you both had a great time.” My voice is hoarse as I try not to cry.
“Not really. I broke up with her.”
Time stops.
My heart beats deliberately against my ribs, like someone knocking at the door to be let in. “Why?”
He takes another step toward me, backing me up against the brick. We’re close enough to touch, but instead he rests his forearm on the wall above my head. “Why do you think, Mars?”
I shake my head, too afraid to hope. If I can write three hundred pages that bleed the same sentiment, he can say it once out loud.
His gaze sharpens. “Because I can’t stop thinking about someone else.”
My breath turns shallow as his tongue darts across his lower lip. “If her name is Juniper, you should know she doesn’t exist.”
Amusement ghosts over his features. “And if my name is Fox?” He tips his head lower, until the tip of his nose brushes mine.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I murmur.
He laughs softly. “It’s always been you, Mars.”
“Don’t lie.” I turn my head; he backs up just enough to give me room to breathe. “Things between us have been different lately. Weird.”
He nods. “I had to pull back, because every time I read one of your stories or watched your eyes light up in excitement, I knew I wanted you. It was shitty to Bethany and shitty to you, and I got so fucking sick of myself I could hardly stand it.”
I’ve never been so close to what I want and so scared of having it disappear. “What changed?” My voice shakes in time with my knees.
“I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. And you’re brave, Mars. You’re going to get everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and I’m…what? Not going to be there to see it happen? Too scared of my own feelings to read your book?” He shakes his head. “That’s not the guy I want to be.”
“Who do you want to be?”
He drags his fingers slowly from my shoulder to my wrist, his hand collecting goose bumps as it moves. “I’ll be whatever you want, Mars Darling.” Two fingers pause on the inside of my wrist. His mouth hitches up into a wolfish grin as he measures my pulse. “Interesting.”
I’m tachycardiac. Drenched in endorphins.
His hand slides to my waist and urges me toward him until our bodies are flush. My breath hitches in disbelief. This can’t be happening.
His eyelids droop to half-mast, and the aching need in my stomach spreads out, traveling lower. My blood is hot, and my skin is tingling, and if he doesn’t kiss me soon, I might collapse. He leans in until our lips are touching. “Admit that I’m Fox.”
My eyes are closed, but I feel the smirk against my mouth.
I nip his bottom lip with my teeth as he groans.
“Never.” My fingertips slide over his stomach and up to his chest as I enunciate the word slowly, but I barely get it out before his mouth is on mine, muffling my response.
He reaches up to cup my face in his hands, his fingers spread across the sides of my neck and up to my jaw.
His lips catch mine, slow and questioning.
He inhales through his nose as his chest shudders, and then his tongue sweeps once over my lip before he pulls back.
He is completely still, attention rapt as he gauges my reaction.
Desire courses through me, hot and impatient.
I need contact. I twist his shirt in my hands and pull him back to me, molding my lips to his.
This time, he presses me hard against the wall, pinning me with his hips as he kisses me.
His hands slip to my waist, his thumb brushing under the hem of my shirt, and suddenly I need him closer.
I open my mouth, and his tongue brushes over mine as I slide my hands up to his jaw, feeling it move as we kiss like we invented it.
This kiss is chaos and fervor and speed, and I can’t get enough.
I lose sense of where I am as he rolls his hips against mine, the sensation making starbursts appear behind my eyelids.
I arch against him and thread my fingers into his hair, pulling a moan from both our lips.
His mouth works its way to my neck, lips traveling greedily over my skin until he finds a spot below my ear that makes me squirm under the heavy weight of him.
His hands skirt over my body as we kiss like we’re making up for lost time, but I don’t even care about any of it.
I would do the last three years over the exact same, because it brought us to this moment, with West’s hand slipping under my shirt, his fingertips searing the small of my back.
“For a guy who doesn’t like PDA, you keep kissing me in public.” I gasp as he presses a kiss to the underside of my jaw.
“And for a character who isn’t based on me, Fox is a hell of a lot like me,” West retorts, his lips turning up into a smile against my mouth. My feet leave the ground, and I scream in surprise as he lifts me up and walks out of our empty courtyard with my legs wrapped around his waist.
“What are you doing?” I laugh until I snort, and West’s eyes shine as he grins up at me.
“You don’t want me to kiss you in public? Looks like we need to find somewhere more private.”
“Now?”
He pauses. “Now. Tomorrow. And the day after that.”
I slide through his arms, my curves dragging over his body until my feet touch concrete. “Do you mean it?” I whisper.
West leans down and presses his lips to my forehead before tracing his nose over the length of mine and parting my lips with his tongue. He pulls back, his eyes nearly black. “I’ll kiss you for as long as you let me, Mars Darling.”