Page 162 of Before We Were

Jim Adkins steps up to the mic, his voice carrying over the hushed crowd. "You've been amazing tonight. We've got one last song for you. If you're here with someone special—a friend, a sibling, maybe even someone you love—hold on to them."

The opening chords float through the air, delicate and haunting. Without thinking, my hands find her hips, and she stiffens for just a moment before melting back against my chest. The contact sends electricity through my veins, and suddenly breathing becomes a conscious effort.

The song builds, guitars weaving together in a melody that feels like memory and hope tangled into one. Couples around us sway together, lost in their own worlds. Nora's head falls back against my shoulder, and I hold her like she might disappear if I don't. My fingers press gently into her sides, memorizing this moment, this feeling.

When she looks up at me, everything just fucking stops. Her eyes catch all those colored lights from the stage, turning them into something that hits me right in the chest. That smile—Jesus Christ—the smile she's giving me now isn't the guarded one she uses with everyone else. This one's real and it's aimed straight at me. My heart's slamming against my ribs like it's trying to break free. Like it knows it belongs to her. Always has.

The crowd's pressed in on all sides, bodies crushing together in the heat. Bass thumping so hard I can feel it in my teeth. But it all fades away. It's just her I see. Just us in this bubble where nothing else exists.

We've been dancing around this for so damn long. Years of almost-moments. Years of looking away when caught staring. Years of that electric current between us that we both pretended wasn't there. Years of me telling myself I'm no good for her.

Her chest rises with a sharp breath when my hand finds the small of her back. I'm waiting for her to pull away—to come to her senses and remember all the reasons this is a bad idea. Instead, she leans in. Fuck. I watch her eyes drop to my mouth and linger there. My throat goes dry. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire.

This is it.

The point of no return.

One more step and we blow everything up. Our friendship. Our families. The careful distance I've kept to protect her from the shit-show that is my life.

But I'm done fighting it.

Done pretending I don't want this—want her—more than my next breath.

"Nora," her name comes out like gravel, barely audible over the music.

The kiss happens before I can talk myself out of it—like gravity, like breathing, like finally coming home after being lost my whole fucking life. Her lips meet mine and everything explodes. Sweet and desperate and hungry all at once, not like the kiss from the other night. My hands slide to her hips, fingers digging in like I'm afraid I’ll wake up from a dream I don’t want to wake up from. Her fingers grip my arms, then slide up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

We move together like we've done this a thousand times in another life. Like our bodies remember what our minds forgot. Like we've been starving for this exact moment. When we break apart, her eyes are wide, lips parted. Something passes between us—something I don't have words for. Something that feels terrifying and perfect at the same time.

"Nate," she breathes my name like it's something sacred.

And I'm done for.

Completely fucking ruined for anyone else. Then again, I think I always have been because of her.

"Leni," I respond, the nickname falling from my lips as naturally as breathing.

She starts to speak, uncertainty dancing in her expression. "I don't think friends??—"

"Len," I cut her off, unable to stop my grin. "I think we're past the just friends thing."

Her laugh is soft and full of promise. For the first time, I let myself see a future—our future—not as something fragile or fleeting, but as something real and possible.

The crowd begins to disperse as the band plays their final notes. "We should probably head out before it gets crazy," I suggest, though leaving this moment feels impossible.

She nods, and I take her hand, our fingers intertwining as we navigate the crowd. The rain starts suddenly—fat drops that quickly turn into sheets of water. By the time we reach the car, we're soaked and laughing, her giggles mixing with the sound of rain on metal.

"Since when does it rain here in July?" she asks, pushing wet hair from her face.

"It doesn't," I say, watching the windshield blur with water. Traffic ahead is at a standstill. "Traffic's not moving. Maybe we should wait it out."

She gives me a questioning look. "Wait it out where?"

I pull out Nick's spare key, offering a small grin. "Nick's got a place about fifteen minutes from here. He said we could crash there if we needed to. I mean… if you're okay with it."

Her fingers brush mine as she takes the key, the contact sending sparks through my skin. After a moment's consideration, she nods. "Let's do that."

As I drive through the rain-slicked streets, the world outside feels distant and dreamlike. Inside the car, it's just us, the rhythm of rain creating our own private symphony. My hand finds hers over the console, and when she interlaces our fingers, it feels like pieces falling into place.

---