Page 62 of The Friend Situation

Without breaking our gaze, Carlee inches closer, but to my surprise, she doesn’t stop. Her lips capture mine, careful at first, then hungry. A moan escapes her as our mouths fit together.

Heat rushes through me.

Our tongues intertwine like they were made for this very purpose. I crave more of her—all of her. It shouldn’t feel this right. Her fingers weave through my hair, a gentle tug, encouraging me to dive deeper.

But I find the strength to pull away, my heart racing, before we lose ourselves entirely.

My logic. I can’t lose it. Too much is at risk.

She places her fingers against her swollen lips—a gesture that feels like we’ve shattered the very fabric of space and time.

I sit up abruptly, trying to collect my scattered thoughts, while she stands, her expression a mixture of exhilaration and confusion.

The need for an explanation lingers in the air.

“It wasn’t supposed to …” She doesn’t finish.

I stand and search her face, hoping to glimpse a crack in her wall of denial. A sweet smile plays on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I should go,” she says.

The tension nearly chokes me. “Is that regret I sense?”

She scoffs, shaking her head, moving toward the door. “That’s the last thing I feel.”

10

CARLEE

My head swims, and every inch of my body craves him.

Confidence radiates from him as he strides toward me, wearing a cocky smirk.

Weston reaches out, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering longer than necessary as he twirls it. I can barely meet his gaze as the weight of our actions hangs between us.

“I shouldn’t have crossed the?—”

“Shh,” he gently interrupts, his laughter light yet teasing.

My cheeks flush, revealing the mixture of emotions inside me—fear, excitement, and something deeper that I dare not mention or admit.

“Finish your thought. You said it wasn’t supposed to … supposed to what?” He removes the little distance that was left between us.

I can sense an undercurrent of seriousness.

“You’re impossible,” I reply.

My body betrays me. I bite my lip, uncertainty waging war within me.

“Youcraveimpossible,” he says, his tone dropping. “So fucking obsessed with the chase.”

His words wrap tightly around me, stirring something deep within. Weston’s already figured me out.

I breathe deeply, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, but I finally find the courage to meet his steely gaze. The spark in his eyes glimmers with an intensity that sends my heart into a chaotic dance. There’s no denying the pull that tightens between us, even if it terrifies me.

“It wasn’t supposed to feelright,” I confess as desire collides with the fear of losing control.

I watch him, but his expression is unwavering.

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