Page 72 of The Rebel's Guide to Pride

“Hang on—”

“Can we just pretend like the whole Insta thing didn’t happen?”

I shook my head, my mind racing to catch up with his jumping conclusions. Cohen was breathing heavy and on the verge of making a break for it. I knew how much it cost him to be honest. I’d paid that price countless times this summer.

“Cohen,” I started, grabbing his arm to keep him from running away, “it’s only been awkward because…because Iaminterested, okay? I don’t want to pretend, not anymore.”

“Zeke—”

“No, listen.” I put a hand on each of his shoulders and held his gaze. “You’re wrong on so many levels. And stop calling yourself fat like it’s a bad thing. What does that even have to do with me liking you?”

He shrugged, shying away. “You…you weren’t happy that it was me in your DMs.”

“I didn’t knowhowto react to you. I was embarrassed about what I’d told you.” He looked at me through his lashes. “But I meant everything I said. Everything.”

He bit his lip, his eyes glassy in the dusky light. I could see all the versions he’d been since we met as kids. How they were wrapping together and overlapping just as mine had. We’d lived so many lives since then. And we still ended up back here.

“Cohen—” I broke off, my voice rough.

Ever so carefully, I slid my hand along his shoulder to his neck. Up to his cheek, cupping his jaw. I tilted his face up to mine and hesitated, to make sure I had permission. Then I bent down and kissed him. It was gentle at first, deepening as he leaned into me. My arms wrapped around him to pull him close. It felt like our first kiss all over again, and I smiled against his lips.

Chapter 30

We kissed!

The thought raced through my mind every time my phone buzzed with a new notification. Our QSA chat had been popping off all day, and Cohen’s texts sent electric jolts through my body. He had messaged about the rally, about hanging up posters, about everythingexceptwhat had happened last night.

I didn’t know where to go from here. All those quiet moments we’d shared were roaring loudly in my head. Too loud to ignore like I had three years ago. They were resounding with second chances, and I didn’t want to screw things up between us again.

My hands thrummed under the SUV as I twisted on the dolly. Another notification vibrated against my thigh. And then another. I hurriedly dug my phone from my jeans and swiped to unlock the screen. The group chat was still open to Sawyer and Kennedy’s discussion on the orientation for our new members. Cohen’s latest reply still didn’t show anyindication whatsoever of how he felt about us, just excitement for the thirty-seven new members.

The phone’s glow was bright in the darkness beneath the engine. I held it above my face, my thumb wavering on how to reply.Maybe they can help with the last speakeasy.I backspaced.Do you really think we can make a difference?Backspaced again.What if the voter registration is a waste?And again.

There was only one conversation I needed to have right now. After swiping out of the group chat, I searched for our old message thread. His last message was still there, but this time was different. This time I typed out a message to see if we could talk about what had happened. It was what I should have done years ago.

Deep breaths pushed through my lungs as I waited. The thought of how this could be a fresh start for us raced between each inhale-exhale. Faster as a new notification flashed across my screen. Relief pooled in my stomach. Cohen wanted to talk tomorrow after the rally prep. Before I could reply, another text flashed, making me do a double take.

Billy Peak

I’m sorry, Fastball. After the mayor’s bullshit, I get how it wasn’t easy for you. I shouldn’t have run my mouth

I reread his message in shock. Never had I thought that the same dickhead who had made jokes about “brotein” would be apologizing to me. But here he was extending that proverbial olive branch. A ghost pain radiated from my eye as I considered how to reply, but then another message came through.

Billy Peak

I’ve talked to the guys on the team, and we want you back. We need you

The past and the present and the future were all melding together. I wasn’t sure if I should even accept his apology, even less sure if I wanted to play baseball again. I’d once loved it, or thought I had.There were a lot of things I thought,I told myself as I began typing.And I’ve been wrong before.

Zeke

I’ll think about it

I quickly shoved my phone back into my pocket, shoved that decision out of my mind. Whatever I chose to do, it wouldn’t be for him or the team or my father.

I heard the door close, and the dolly’s wheels creaked over the art deco tiles while I scooted out to see if we had a new customer. Blinking away the sudden brightness of overhead lights, I saw Mom leaned up against the toolbox. She was holding a letter and reading with a deep scowl on her face.

“Everything okay?” I asked cautiously, sitting up.

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