Page 68 of Late Nights

We then switched over to Mario Kart, and it didn’t take long for us to fall back into our usual rhythm. Soon we were laughing and trash-talking (maybe a little flirting too), and all felt right in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.

“I’ve missed this,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

My eyes locked on his. “Me too.” Yes, to both of those. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this, missed him, until now.

The moment stretched out, a sense of longing pulsing between us. As much as I wanted to go to him, I stayed where I was. If we couldn’t hang out without something eventually happening, we’d never be able to go back to being friends.

Friends. We both wanted to be friends. Friends, friends, friends. Did repeating something over and over make you eventually believe it? It was worth a try.

I wanted to be friends with Cannon.

I wanted to respect his wishes.

I wanted to keep the friendship he and I had built.

I did not want to ruin what we had.

I did not want to climb on his lap, straddling him while I took his face in my hands and thoroughly kissed him.

Crap. I’d totally gotten off track there. Thinking like that would definitely not keep me from crossing the friendship line. The longer we sat here the more dangerous things would get.

I set my controller down on the ottoman. “We should go to bed.”

His brows rose as he gave me a mischievous grin.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” I chastised.

“I don’t know,” he said playfully. “You were definitely giving me bedroom eyes.”

“Whatever!” I protested. “I wasn’t even looking at you when I said it.”

He laughed, and I went to smack his chest, but he caught my wrist before it made contact. The feeling of his hand around my wrist, the shock of skin to skin, made both of us freeze. It could have been one second or ten, but he dropped my wrist, seeming to come back to himself.

“You’re right.” He looked away from me. “We should go to our own separate rooms and go to sleep.”

I didn’t need the clarification, but had he? It sounded like he was almost trying to talk himself into that.

I rubbed my hands against my thighs. “Yeah, that’s definitely what we should do.” I slowly stood up. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I put on a smile, hoping to deescalate the situation, but he had leaned his forearms against his legs and was staring down at the carpet.

“Sounds good.” His gaze remained down, but I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching.

I guessed that was my cue to leave.

I made it to the hallway, then looked back to find him still in the same position.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly. Had I done something wrong? I shouldn’t have tried to touch him. Curse me and my touchiness.

He lifted his head, his blue eyes stormy. “Yes. This is me trying not to kiss you.”

A breath whooshed out of me, my hand tightening its hold on the wall. Usually self-control was looked upon as a great quality to have, but right now I wished Cannon didn’t have so much.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, worried that I’d already gone back on my word of not pushing him for anything.

“No, Demi. You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything about you is too right. Too perfect.” His face was a mixture of torture and awe, like it was taking everything in him to resist what he wanted.

I wanted to speak up, to point out that the only person holding him back, holding us back, was him. All his worries, all his fears, were keeping him from being happy, from letting himself love and be loved. But I couldn’t say anything. I’d told him I’d go along with his wish to remaining just friends. Plus, I doubted there was anything I could say right now to change his mind. The only thing I could do to help him now was to go to bed.

I ducked my chin, wishing things were different, but that wasn’t up to me.

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