Page 38 of Not Made to Last

“Do you do that a lot?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “He has too much to lose if he steps out of line, so…”

“Huh,” he says, and that’s all he says before reaching back into the dollhouse. I try to see what he’s aiming for, and when realization kicks in, I almost choke on air. Ondread. I’d forgotten the book was in there, and now he’s pulling it out, inspecting it. “What’s this?”

I shrug, try to play it cool, but my stomach twists. “A book.”

“I can see that, Einstein, but why’s it in there?”

“I don’t know,” I lie, my pulse racing beneath my flesh. Nerves swarm through my veins, twist in my stomach. I swallow the sudden fear in my throat, then add, “It was in one of thosetop ten must-read-before-you-die lists, and I had every intention to, but it’ssolong.” I laugh and hope he doesn’t pick up on the awkwardness of it.

“It’s 464,000 words.”

I glance at him, and even though I already know the answer, I ask, “I take it you’ve read it?”

“It’s my favorite book.” I already knew that, too.

I try to settle my breathing, try to calm my thoughts, and as nonchalantly as physically possible, ask, “What’s it about?”

He contemplates for a moment, his jaw working. “It’s about this guy who was falsely imprisoned for fourteen years. Most of the story is him seeking revenge for the ones who framed him, but there’s this girl?—”

“There’s always a girl,” I try to joke, but I don’t think he hears me.

“—Mercedes. He was engaged to her when everything went down, so when he gets out, he goes to see her…”

I know what happens next. Still, I ask, “And they live happily ever after?”

He turns to me, a smile tugging on his lips. “The happily ever after isn’t the point, Cheeks.”

“Whatisthe point?”

“That the love he felt for Mercedes, and the idea of being with her once it was all over… that’s what kept him going all that time.” He pauses a breath. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s all life is. The constant search for that one person who gives you hope. Who inspires you. Someone you’re willing to wait years for, even when the outcome may not always be forever.”

I stare at his profile. At the way his lashes fall against his cheeks when he blinks. “Do you have someone like that?” I ask, because I know I do, and he’s sitting right next to me.

“Maybe.” He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine. “I just don’t know how she feels.”

I hold his stare for one second, two, and then I look away, slowly filling my lungs with some much-needed air.

AmIshe?

Or isshethe version of me trapped in his phone?

Or has he somehow worked out that we’re one and the same?

Neither answer is okay, and with that thought in mind, I stand up, stop a few feet away, and turn to him. “Do you ever think about what would’ve happened that night we met? I mean, how far we would’ve gone if Max wasn’t in the car or if my alarm didn’t go off…”

Chin raised to look up at me, his eyebrows knit, just slightly, but he doesn’t respond.

“Because I think about it,” I rush out, for no other reason than to fill the silence. “I think—for me, anyway—the reason I’m so drawn to you iscuriosity.”

“Curiosity?” he repeats.

I nod. “Yep. Thewhat ifof it all.” His stare is blank, as if he has no clue where this is going. “I think we should do it. Just once. Get it out of our system and move on.”

After inhaling a huge breath, he raises a finger between us, saying, “Just to be clear, when you sayit, you mean sex, right?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes.”

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