Page 60 of Crash & Burn

Friends who kissed, who never in a million years can kiss again.

“Are we though?” he asks.

Neither of us take our eyes off the road in front of us.

Chapter 20

Eddie

Her voice is just above a whisper, even though it is just us. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Not only can she see right through me, but she can read me like her fucking favorite book. With her hand in mine, I feel like I could get through anything, like the memories behind me aren’t as scary when she is here. Like I couldactuallytalk about them without falling apart as long as she is with me.

No.

I can’t talk about this with her, no matter how much I want to.

I refuse to put anything more on her.

We can’t do this anymore.

“There is nothing to tell, sunshine.” I give her hand a squeeze before letting go, and I have to pretend it isn’t one of the hardest things I have done. For a moment, before I let go, I pretend our lives are simple enough to hold hands while I drive; simple enough that we can enjoy the time just the two of us, rather than address what both of us have been trying to ignore.

But this isn’t simple.

Nothing ever is, especially when it comes to Mia.

I bring my hand to the steering wheel and bring my left arm down to my lap. I try to hide how clenched my fist now is. My hands feel so empty after knowing what it feels like to have her hand in mine.

“Mia,” I say, refusing to look anywhere but the road in front of me. “We need to talk aboutus.”

She angles her body back to face the front. “There is nous,” she says. “We’re friends.”

“Are we though?” I push because we both know there issomethingbetween us.

It is too strong to just be in my head.

She sighs. “I can’t figure you out.”

“Come on, Mia. I’m an open book,” I try to tease, knowing that there is a hint of truth in the remark when it comes to her.

“Yeah,” she scoffs. “With half the pages missing.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” I reply, easily falling back into our comfort zone.

“You’re lucky you have me to put the missing pieces together.”

And she has no idea how much I wish that was the case, but it can’t be.

It is so easy to pretend with her.

To pretend she isn’t becoming all I think about.

To pretend that her lips weren’t made for me.

To pretend I don’t want to hold her so close to me that nothing and no one can get between us.

To pretend that we are good for each other.

To pretend that nothing is wrong, and that we are friends who harmlessly flirt and see who can get closest to the invisible line without crossing, even though we both know that line is miles behind us now.

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