Page 26 of Double Trouble

Because I have a tendency to fall too hard and too fast, and if I hold her hand, I know I’m gonna want to kiss her and hold her, and I probably won’t ever let her go…. and if I say it all out loud, I’ll freak her the hell out.

I’m silent for too long, unable to articulate an excuse to keep my distance, and an amused-slash-frustrated growl escapes her lips. She drops her helmet to the floor of the half-pipe, the clatter of it echoing around us. My heart beats like a hummingbird’s wings as she rises to her elbow, her hair falling like a curtain, shutting us into even further privacy.

I’m frozen… petrified. Her eyes skate over my face, and I’m a hundred percent sure I look like a guppy. I don’t want to think about past girls right now, but my brain invites them in, anyway, all their voices swirling around up there. If I pull Mad in, I’ll scare her away. If I squeeze her hand any tighter, I’ll suffocate her. If I tell her that she has become my entire world, I might as well say goodbye to any future I could’ve had with her.

My lips slightly part, and jagged, shallow breaths exit as I try to get some oxygen up to my brain. Maybe wash all those voices out of there.

Her eyes flick to my bent elbow, to the hand that’s tucked under my head as a pillow. She tilts her head, a smile curling her lips. She lets out a sigh and boldly reaches across my body.

“Well, I want to hold your hand.” Her touch ignites a fire under my skin, yet chills run up and down my spine. She yanks my arm free, and my head thunks against the half-pipe, and she lets out the most adorable tinkle of a laugh while I give a Goofy-likehiyuck. My breathing and my heart both stop simultaneously as her fingers slide through mine, and she rests our locked hands on my chest.

“Was that so hard?” she asks. The arrogance in her grin is equally hilarious and cute.

I don’t trust my voice not to crack like a thirteen-year-old, so I just shake my head, begging my lips to return her smile.

Silent laughter shakes her body, and she’s so close that her shirt tickles up and down my side. My thumb slides across hers, and she’ll probably have no idea how much effort it took for me to give such a simple action. Even that scares my forced grin from my face, worry replacing it. Will that small stroke of affection show her just how much I love her? Will that love terrify her?

Her gaze drops to our hands, and there’s a smile resting in her hazel irises. Relief that I didn’t screw this moment up washes over me, and I allow my thumb to continue running up and down hers, tripping over her knuckle and gliding back to her nail. She has such rough hands. Worn. Like she’s carried far too much weight for most of her life. Her nails are bitten down, her fingers are naked… not a single piece of jewelry. There are calluses on her forefinger, the skin toughened from grabbing her board over and over. I love that she’s so perfectly Mad. I could find her hand in the dark, differentiate it from any other person in the world.

“Can I ask you something?” she says, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t make fun of me if I’m way off, though.”

My brows push inward, and I beg my voice to work without cracking. “O-okay.” Damn it.

She sucks in a heavy breath, letting her shoulders lift to her ears and drop with the exhale. “Do you like me?”

My eyes bulge from their sockets. Well, this wasn’t how I pictured telling her. And I have no idea how I’m supposed to answer. Hell yes, I like her. Of course. That’s obvious. But is it obvious justhow much? That I’m a hundred percent in love. How do I tell her that?

Shit, she’s starting to panic. Her brows pull in, and she shuts her eyes briefly and shakes her head hard, like she wants to take it back. Her hand is even starting to slide out from mine.

“Forget it,” she rushes out. “What a stupid thing to ask, you know? This is like a conversation Demi would have at her age, not me… And I’m probably like an older sister to you, and I just… Luke was just… He said…” She shakes her head hard again and sits up, her hand falling from mine. She hides her face in her palms. “Forget it,” she says again.

No.

Nonono. She was right here in my grasp, and I won’t let her believe all of those excuses to let go, especially since none of them are accurate.

I push to my butt and face her. Past Tanner needs to come out right now and quiet all these voices in my head that tell me Mad doesn’t want to hear the truth.

“Hey,” I croak, then clear my throat. I tap on her forearm, nudging her to stop covering her face. When her hands fall, her skin is the most gorgeous color of pink… deeper than after a long run on the course. I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh. It rises deep from my gut and shakes my whole body. Her eyes narrow, and she playfully shoves me.

“I told you not to make fun!”

“I’m not,” I reassure her, relief washing my terror from my body. Her embarrassment is so… relatable, human, and exactly how I feel. My brain finally quiets and allows my body to do what I’ve wanted it to, damn the consequences.

I reach out and tap her chin, urging her to look at me. Her skin is warm, and I don’t know if it’s from her boarding or just from this conversation. Either way, I like it.

“You aren’t totally off,” I say, using her phrasing.

“I’m not?”

I shake my head, biting away the entire truth and giving her just enough. “You are definitely not like a sister. I mean so far from a sister to me. That thought is on Jupiter for me. Nah… even farther. Like the moon. Or Pluto. What’s the farthest thing?”

She laughs, shaking her head at her lap. “I get it.”

“Good.” My smirk slightly fades, and I dig up the courage to ask, “Do you like me?”

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