Chapter 16 #5
Kane picks up the Twizzlers.
I hold out my hand.
He returns them without taking one.
That may be the most unsettling part of the night.
He walks me back to Briar.
I let him because the path is dark and because arguing would add another fifteen minutes beside him.
Neither of us speaks for the first half of the walk.
Leaves crunch beneath our shoes. Cold air slips through the opening of my coat. Kane stays close enough that our shoulders nearly touch.
Nearly.
Every step becomes an almost.
At the stone arch before Briar Hall, I stop.
“So.”
“So,” he repeats.
“Thank you for walking me.”
“You’re welcome.”
He keeps both hands in his jacket pockets.
No attempt to remove my glasses.
No fingers in my hair.
No slow lean that gives me time to pretend I might move away.
I hate the relief.
I hate the disappointment more.
“Good night,” I say.
“Good night, Hannah.”
He turns.
Actually turns.
I watch him take three steps.
“That’s it?”
Kane stops.
Looks back.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You called me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You said something.”
“I said good night.”
“And I respected it.”
His face is unreadable beneath the archway light.
I grip the strap of my bag.
“You’re really not going to kiss me?”
The question escapes before pride can tackle it.
Kane goes still.
The space between us charges.
He walks back slowly.
My heart kicks harder with every step.
He stops close enough for me to see the faint shadow along his jaw.
Still no touch.
“You haven’t asked.”
“I just did.”
“No. You asked whether I was going to.”
I stare at his mouth.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Probably.”
“You know what I meant.”
“I’m done deciding what you mean.”
The line from the stairwell returns.
Letting you decide.
Kane waits.
No teasing.
No rescue.
All I have to do is say two words.
Kiss me.
My lips refuse to cooperate.
Fear gets there first.
Ryan laughing behind the gym.
The online poll.
Krista in the concourse claiming Kane’s seats.
Every athlete who smiled before handing me something he wanted finished.
Kane sees the retreat.
He doesn’t punish it.
His expression softens.
“Good night, Hannah.”
“Good night, Hannah.”
He turns.
Actually turns.
My stomach drops.
What?
I watch him take three steps.
Four.
“That’s it?”
Kane stops.
Slowly looks back.
“What?”
Heat climbs my neck.
“Nothing.”
“You called me.”
“I did not.”
“You made words in my direction.”
“I said good night.”
“You said ‘that’s it.’”
“I was commenting generally.”
“On?”
I should enter the building.
Instead, I stand beneath an archway arguing about why the man who announced he wouldn’t kiss me has failed to kiss me.
This is a new low.
“Forget it.”
Kane walks back.
One step.
Two.
Stops directly in front of me.
Still doesn’t touch me.
That is worse.
His eyes search mine behind the glasses.
“What were you expecting?”
“Nothing.”
“Another lie.”
“I don’t expect things from you.”
“Good.”
I blink.
“Good?”
“I told you what I was doing.”
“Yes, you made your dramatic announcement in the stairwell.”
“It wasn’t dramatic.”
“You announced a kissing embargo.”
His mouth twitches.
“Embargo?”
“I study civilizations. We have terminology.”
“I said I wasn’t kissing you until you asked.”
“And I told you not to hold your breath.”
“I’m not.”
That irritates me.
“You seem remarkably comfortable with this.”
“I’m not.”
There it is.
Quiet.
Immediate.
My pulse stutters.
Kane looks down at me.
“I wanted to kiss you in the film room.”
My mouth goes dry.
“When?”
He gives me a look.
“When you put both hands on my waist.”
“That was instructional.”
“When your chest hit my back.”
“Accidental.”
“When you kept your hand on my arm after I turned around.”
I have no answer for that one.
His voice lowers.
“I wanted to kiss you when I put my hands on your hips.”
Heat rolls through me.
“And when you turned your face toward mine,” he continues, “I almost forgot every intelligent thing I said earlier.”
I swallow.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
His eyes hold mine.
“Because you asked me to stop deciding for you.”
The answer lands softly.
That somehow makes it worse.
“And now?”
“Now I wait.”
“For what?”
“You know.”
I absolutely know.
My eyes drop to his mouth.
That is a tactical error.
Kane sees it.
His jaw tightens.
He still doesn’t move.
“You’re really not going to kiss me?”
The question slips out.
His gaze snaps back to mine.
Everything changes.
Cold air.
Empty courtyard.
Stone walls.
Kane.
He takes one slow step closer.
My pulse starts pounding.
“You haven’t asked me to.”
“I just did.”
“No.”
His voice is rougher now.
“You asked whether I was going to.”
“That is an absurd technical distinction.”
“Not to me.”
I stare at him.
“You know what I meant.”
“I’m done pretending I do.”
There it is again.
Choice.
The thing I demanded from him.
The thing I am apparently terrible at having.
Kane waits.
No teasing smile.
No clever line.
He doesn’t rescue me from the moment.
All I need to say is—
Kiss me.
Two words.
My throat closes around them.
Because suddenly this isn’t Kane taking what he wants.
It would be me admitting what I want.
Ryan flashes through my head before I can stop him.
A hallway.
A prom sign.
A boy asking questions because every answer brought him closer to my father.
Kane wants my reads.
My corrections.
What I see before anyone else does.
And maybe—
Maybe me.
I don’t know which possibility scares me more.
Kane sees something change in my face.
He steps back.
Not angry.
Not insulted.
Just accepting the answer I couldn’t say.
“Good night, Hannah.”
My chest pulls tight.
“Kane.”
He pauses.
I still can’t do it.
His eyes stay on mine for another second.
Then he nods.
Once.
And walks away.
I stand there like an idiot, watching his back disappear beneath the next stone arch.
No last glance.
No swagger.
No victory.
He gave me exactly what I asked for.
Control.
I stare after him.
Turns out control is considerably less fun when I’m the one too scared to use it.