Prologue #2
The cold hits me immediately, biting at my bare arms through my thin shirt. I left my jacket inside, but I don't care. The cold feels good after the stifling heat of too many bodies crammed into my tiny apartment. I lean against the railing and breathe in deep, watching my breath fog in the air.
The door opens behind me, and I don't have to turn around to know who it is. I can feel him, the way you feel a storm coming.
"You'll freeze out here." Jackson's voice wraps around me in the dark.
He drapes his jacket over my shoulders before I can tell him I'm fine. It smells like him. Something clean and woodsy that makes me want to bury my face in the fabric and just breathe it in.
"Thanks." I pull the jacket tighter around me.
He leans against the railing beside me, close enough that our arms almost touch. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. "Twenty-five. That's a big one."
"Feels like any other day."
"Emma said you've been working a lot."
"It's what nurses do." I keep my eyes on the street below, watching a car drive past.
He's quiet for a moment, and I can feel him watching me. "You doing okay, Maya?"
The question lands differently when he asks it. When Emma asks, I can deflect, make a joke, or change the subject. But when Jackson asks, it's like he's actually asking. Like he'd stand here all night if that's what it took to get a real answer.
The tequila makes me brave. Or stupid. At this point, they're probably the same thing.
"Can I tell you something?" I turn to face him, and he's so close. When did he get this close?
"Always."
"I've been thinking about you." The words come out steadier than I feel. "A lot, actually."
His jaw tightens, and I watch the muscle jump. "Maya..."
"I know what you're going to say. I know you're Emma's brother, and I'm supposed to see you as family, but I don't." Now that I've started, I can't stop.
Seven years of wanting him is pouring out, and I'm powerless to hold it back.
"I never have. I've been trying not to think about you for seven years, Jackson. It's not working."
"You're drunk." His voice is rough, strained in a way I've never heard before.
"I'm honest." I step closer, and I can see his pupils dilate. "Tell me you've never thought about it. About us."
His eyes drop to my mouth, and my pulse takes off like I just ran a marathon.
"I can't." The words sound like they're being dragged out of him.
"Can't tell me, or can't think about it?"
"Both. Neither." He runs a hand through his hair, and I watch it fall back into place. "Fuck, Maya. You're twenty-five and drunk at your birthday party. This isn't... this isn't how this should happen."
"I'm not that drunk." I am absolutely that drunk, but I'm also more clearheaded than I've been in months. "And I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember."
Something breaks in his expression. Heat floods those green eyes, and for one perfect moment, I think he's going to kiss me. God, I want him to kiss me. I want it so badly I ache with it.
Fuck it.
I close the distance between us. Rise on my toes, and press my mouth to his.
For one perfect heartbeat, he kisses me back.
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone in a touch so gentle it makes my chest hurt.
His lips are warm and soft, and everything I've imagined in seven years of wanting him.
I taste beer and something sweeter, something that's just him.
Then he pulls away.
"We can't." He steps back, putting space between us that feels like miles. "Maya, you're Emma's best friend. We can't do this."
The rejection stings worse than the cold. "Jackson..."
"You're drunk. Tomorrow you'll wake up and realize this was a mistake."
"It's not a mistake."
"It is." His voice goes firm, final, the voice he probably uses when he's captaining his team. "I'm sorry. I need to go."
He turns and walks back inside before I can find the words to make him stay. Through the glass door, I watch him say something to Emma, and see her face crease with concern. Then he's gone, the front door closing behind him with a soft click that sounds like the end of something.
I stand here on the balcony in his jacket, my lips still burning from a kiss that lasted maybe three seconds. My heart is pounding, and my hands are shaking, and I don't know if it's from the cold or the tequila or the fact that I just kissed Jackson Anderson and he walked away.
I don't cry. I'm too numb for tears. Too shocked by my own boldness and his rejection.
Emma finds me twenty minutes later. "Hey. You okay? Jackson left really suddenly."
I shrug and slip off his jacket, handing it to her. "Can you give this back to him?"
"What happened?"
"Nothing." The lie comes easily. "I'm just tired."
She studies my face like she's trying to read between the lines, but she doesn't push. She just hugs me tight and makes me promise to text her tomorrow, then leaves with Chase. They collect a still-sleeping Tyler on their way out, Chase hefting him up like he weighs nothing.
I clean up the apartment alone. Throw away cups and bottles, wipe down surfaces sticky with spilled drinks, and pick chip crumbs out of my carpet. I move through the motions because it's easier than thinking, easier than processing what just happened.
Jackson's gift sits on the counter where I left it, still wrapped.
I open it carefully, peeling back the paper to reveal a small box. Inside is a silver bracelet with a single star charm dangling from it. Simple. Beautiful. Exactly something I'd choose for myself.
There's a note tucked underneath: Keep shining, Stardust. – J
Stardust. He used to call me that when I was younger. He said I was bright even in the dark, that I had light in me even when I couldn't see it myself.
I fasten the bracelet around my wrist and walk to the bathroom.
The girl staring back at me from the mirror is twenty-five and tired and still hopelessly in love with a man who just turned her down.
Her lipstick is smudged, and her black curls are a mess.
She looks exactly like someone who just had her heart broken at her own birthday party.
"Happy birthday, Maya," I whisper to myself.
Then I go to bed and pretend I'll be able to sleep. Pretend tomorrow won't hurt when I wake up and remember everything. Pretend my heart isn't breaking over a three-second kiss on a cold balcony.
The bracelet catches the light from the street outside my window. A single star, shining in the dark.