Page 18 of Unloved

Rosalie shakes her head rapidly. “I hate being alone.”

Me, too.

“Great. Then I’m not leaving you alone, Ro,” I whisper, my breathfanning her hair as I reach over and pull the last few clips from her hair, tucking them into my pocket, before gathering her curls up into my hands, piling them high on her head, and carefully tying the shoelace around them to keep them out of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says, blushing.

We’re too close but I don’t move. “You don’t have to thank me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” She shivers beneath my hands, which are settled on her shoulders now.

I take her hand in mine and step to the edge. Thankfully I’ve seen some daredevil frat boys jump from this stupid thing before. I know it’s doable.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

I count down, my hand locked on to hers as we jump. The water feels cold on my overheated skin—crippling anxiety over a girl will do that to you. I surface and flip my hair out of my eyes, hearing wheezing giggles from Ro as I swim right over to her and paddle in so close we share breath.

“You’re very nice.” She smiles.

I preen under her compliment. “Yeah?”

She nods, but the smile slides off her face quickly and my stomach sinks, a desperate need to bring it back plaguing my mind.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wish it was always this easy.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. I’ve been called easy plenty of times, but never like this.

“I think it’s hard for people to like me. And I tryreallyhard.” Tears well up in her eyes for a moment and my throat closes a little at the sight. At the sentiment, too, because I understand it deeply.

So I offer her a piece of my own vulnerability to match hers.

“I hate that. Sometimes I feel that way, too.” Goose bumps breakout across my arms at the earnest confession, but I can’t take it back now.

And… I don’t want to.

My eyes trace droplets of water as they cascade down her honeyed skin, dripping off her curls kept high off her long neck by my shoelace.

There’s pure joy in her eyes and she’s finally relaxed—like the tension in her shoulders has melted off into the water. Everything feels gentler, like time itself is moving slower as we wade across from each other. I’m sure I’m giving her the same moony expression she’s giving me. I’m confident, by the rapid beating of my heart in my ears, that I am.

It’s different, this tentative thing with her, whatever it is. My chest is warm and tight all at once, because it feels like she might kiss me. And I want that, desperately. It doesn’t matter how many people I’ve indulged in before; it feels like the nervous excitement before afirst kiss. I want to freeze this moment, to slow it down somehow so I can feel this way over and over—

“Freddy?” Rosalie asks, voice whisper-soft and breathy.

“Yeah?” I say, my voice matching hers. I drift closer to her, until our hands brush beneath the water.

“Thank you.”

I tuck one of her stray curls back behind her ear. “Anytime, princess.”

“I think you’d be really easy to love,” she says. It’s a lax, whispered compliment, one she doesn’t know sounds like a gunshot in my head, hitting me straight in the chest.

My words disappear, until I’m left standing and staring at her, only shaken by the appearance of my captain and the figure skater bursting our contented little bubble.

I think you’d be really easy to love.

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