Page 99 of Wish You Were Mine
The one that always came when we had to say goodbye.
I’d liked having her at my house the past two nights—liked the easy rhythm we fell into, the way her laugh filled up the quiet, the way her presence warmed the corners of my life I hadn’t realized had gone cold.
It was…nice.
Not being alone.
Having someone like her beside me to help pass the long winter night.
A moment later, she stepped out, bundled in her whitepuffy coat like the world’s cutest marshmallow. Her hood framed her cheeks, face protected from the cold…and from the gaze of anyone who might walk by.
She climbed into the passenger seat, tugging her seatbelt into place.
“Where do you live?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“Just two streets up,” she said, somewhat breathlessly—like she, too, was on edge at the idea of being caught. “I live in Eden Hall.”
I nodded, shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the lot.
We didn’t talk much on the short drive, just listened to the quiet hum of the heater and the low sound of the tires on the pavement. But it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of quiet that felt full somehow.
“This is it,” she said when we reached the building—tan stucco with red brick trim and lights glowing soft behind several windows.
I pulled over to the curb; not too close, not too far. Just enough that I could still watch her make it safely inside.
“Thanks,” she said, turning toward me. “For the ride. For dinner. For…everything.”
“No problem,” I said, meaning every word.Really.I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
I didn’t move. Just sat there stealing the moment. Wanting to find an excuse to keep her here beside me a little while longer.
But before I was ready, she reached for her seatbelt and unbuckled it, then leaned into the backseat to grab her backpack. “I’ll see you in the chemistry lab tomorrow?”
Her voice was light. But when our gazes locked, I could’ve sworn the air had shifted.
Could’ve sworn she felt it, too—the electric charge that hadbeen between us since I first saw her sitting at the bar and tried to keep my cool while serving her a glass of water.
I wanted to kiss her so badly—to lean across the center console and take her face in my hands and see if she tasted as sweet as I remembered.
Just a little kiss. One stolen moment.
But no…I couldn’t.
Or rather, Ishouldn’t.
So instead of doing what I very much wanted to do, I offered her a crooked smile that I hoped would mask everything I wasn’t saying.
That I wished we didn’t have to hide our friendship—or whatever this was.
That I wished things weren’t complicated.
That we were just a regular guy and girl enjoying a nice evening together.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said instead.
“See you.” She looked at me for another moment, her eyes full of something my brain really wanted to interpret as longing.
But then, with a sigh, she climbed out and started up the walkway. I watched her go, watched until she slipped inside the glass doors.
