Page 5 of Holding On To Good

She’d hurt him. And it didn’t matter that she hadn’t meant to. That she hadn’t wanted to.

All that mattered was getting them back to where they’d been before. To how they’d been.

It’d worked. Eventually. After seventeen long, lonely, heartbroken days, Urban had finally, finally come back to her.

He’d passed her in the hall at school and said hey.

It was his way of letting her know he was ready to get back to how they’d been.

His way of letting her know they were going to be okay.

Not that they’d been able to jump back into their friendship as if nothing had happened. They’d taken it slowly. First with greetings at school. Then quick, inane chats about homework and their families and the latest school gossip. It’d taken another week before he agreed to her suggestion that they hang out. But things still weren’t how they used to be. They no longer spent the entire weekend together. He didn’t call her as often.

He didn’t look at her like he used to, quick, guilty, longing glances that made her heart race with equal parts excitement and fear.

And if she shared today’s revelation with him, it would change everything.

Again.

Just the idea of telling him she’d suddenly and inexplicably decided she wanted to take their friendship out of the platonic level and into the boyfriend-girlfriend one was ludicrous.

Ludicrous and risky and selfish, thinking she needed to share this little golden nugget of information simply because it’d thrown her into a tizzy and taken away her peace of mind.

Because she wanted to hear him say he felt the same. And that he always would.

She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t. Not now. Not when their friendship was still so fragile.

For all she knew, these feelings weren’t real anyway. Her reaction to Urban’s smile, those pesky urges to climb and bite and lick him, were probably just a fluke. A once-in-a-lifetime deal brought on by her surging hormones and budding sexuality. Complicated by how stupid hot he was with his floppy hair, broad shoulders and those rock-hard abs.

But then she heard a sound behind her and turned and there he was and something inside of her clicked, like a key fitting into a lock. And she knew with a bone-jarring certainty that everything she’d just tried to convince herself was complete and total bullshit.

Knew that, despite all her pretending and the many lies she’d told herself, deep down she’d always known this day would come. The dynamic of her friendship with Urban had been changing for months. Where there had only ever been friendship, there was now an awareness of each other. An attraction that was as dangerous as it was undeniable.

That had been her mistake. Trying to deny it. Wanting so desperately to pretend it didn’t exist.

Being so afraid of it.

When it was becoming clearer and clearer that every interaction they’d had, every conversation, every minute spent together had been leading to this moment.

This truth.

Their truth.

Telling him how she felt might be selfish, but it wasn’t wrong. Nothing between them could ever be wrong.

“I changed my mind,” she blurted as Urban stepped into the room carrying two cans of Coke.

His eyebrows drew together. “You don’t want a drink?”She shook her head. Crossed her arms. “No. Yes.” Uncrossing her arms, she blew out a breath. “Yes, I want the drink.”

She needed it. Needed something to soothe the nerves drying her throat. To wash away the metallic taste of fear on her tongue. Was this how Urban had felt on Valentine’s Day? Like everything he needed to say was lodged inside his chest, expanding with every breath until he felt like a balloon ready to pop?

Like he was about to fall off a cliff but couldn’t stop himself from creeping closer and closer to the edge?

He’d been so brave. So honest. He deserved her courage in return.

He set one can of pop on his nightstand, then opened the other and handed it to her.

Testing herself, testing them both, she deliberately trailed her fingertips over the back of his hand. He inhaled, soft and quick, his entire body going still.

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