“No, you are a good guy. Not just a nice guy. Xander was the nice guy, who ended up being a douche. You are not that guy.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t appreciate you comparing me to him.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t.”
“It’s fine,” I whispered.
“Yes, I had a crush on Pacey, thinking that I wanted more. The reality is, we are much better as friends. And I see how he is with Mackenzie. They’re just perfect, you know? They’re fated and all of that. Like one of the romances I love to read.”
“They are pretty amazing together,” I whispered.
“He was never for me. It took me a long time to realize that and get my head out of my ass. Yes, I had a crush on Pacey. But that’s over. It’s just that every time I look at you, I remember that kiss and how much I liked it, even though I shouldn’t remember it. I’m done hiding the fact that I did.”
“You liked it.”
“You keep repeating everything that I say.”
I laughed then. “Of course, I am. I have no idea what’s going on,” I whispered.
“I don’t know, either,” she whispered back.
“Okay, then. So, we both remember and liked the kiss. I keep thinking about you, and you keep thinking about me.” I had no idea if I was still dreaming or if I’d suddenly woken up in a new reality, but this didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real.
“There’s so much going on in my life, Miles. I don’t want to risk our friendship for something that will probably blow up in our faces.”
I took a step forward and swallowed hard. “I get it.” I paused. “Still…”
She reached out and put her hand on my chest. I reached for her, as well, running my fingers down her arm. “Still,” she echoed, then she went onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips across mine.
I was so much taller than her that I had to hunch slightly so she could press her lips to mine. I kissed her softly, needing her taste but going slow. After all, the incident with Xander had only been the night before, and we had just been talking about Pacey. There were so many reasons not to do this, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.
I kissed her again and then pulled away, my breath coming in pants even though it had been a gentle kiss.
“I’ve been thinking about that for a long time,” I whispered.
“Me, too. But, Miles, we only have a year left of school, and then we’re all moving away. Things are changing, and there’s so much going on in our lives. I can’t do a relationship. I thought I could at least pretend to date somebody to get over Pacey, but that wasn’t the case. I’m already over him.”
I nodded. “I know. At the end of the year, we both move away. We’ll always be friends, but things will change.” I didn’t know why that hurt so much to say, but I had to put it out there.
“I like kissing you,” she said softly, and I smiled.
“I like kissing you, too.” I leaned down and kissed her again. “Just for this year. Or for however long it lasts. Because I can’t stop thinking about you, Nessa. And I’m tired of pretending.”
She looked up at me then. “Friendship first. Always. Even if this is a mistake.”
“Friendship first. Always.” Then I leaned down and kissed her again, wondering when exactly I would wake up from this dream.
Chapter 9
Nessa
I let out a breath and closed my computer. I was still waiting on news about a few grants and for some letters of recommendation. It was as if I had to pretend that I was still going through with my grad school plans, even if I felt like I was behind. However, none of that was what I was working on at the moment.
While I bit my lip and tapped my foot, I waited on emails from my agent. I hadn’t told anybody that I had written a trilogy. An actual trilogy that I was excited about. I knew that if I got the first book picked up as it was being shopped, the second and third would probably have to be entirely reworked—if not discarded. But the books had poured out of me, and I had taken nearly my entire college career to get them to the point where I was ready. Somehow, through my persistence and sheer luck, I’d landed an agent. And now, we were shopping my work.
I’d known I wanted to be a writer from a young age. My mother had dreamed that I would write a book, and I had finished the first one right before she passed. She had been my first beta reader and probably my harshest critic. Tough love because she had wanted me to succeed, even when she said she loved it.
I just hoped the rest of the world embraced it. It was my dream, even though I knew that I would have to get a big-girl job and not just work at a bookstore. What English professor wasn’t working on a book in their spare time? It was a given. First, though, I needed to get into grad school and possibly even work on my doctorates before starting anything else.
Only, now, I didn’t even know if I would be able to finish this semester. I sighed and nearly jolted out of my chair at my small desk in my bedroom when someone knocked on the door.
Elise spoke through the door. “Nessa? There are flowers for you. Are they from Miles? I know you have a date tonight.”
I got out of my chair and rolled my shoulders back, stretching since I had been sitting too long. A nervous smile played on my face as I thought over her words. I did have a date with Miles tonight. An actual date, though one where we knew there was no future because we were both moving on with whatever lives we picked and were chosen for after this year. I still couldn’t believe I had kissed him or that he had kissed me. I would probably make another mistake at some point, but at least I would go into it face-forward. It was relaxing to be around Miles, even though parts of me were never relaxed around him.
I opened the door and frowned. “Flowers?” I asked as I looked at the bouquet of yellow wildflowers in Elise’s hands.
“There’s no note, but I assume they’re from Miles.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Don’t you think he would have them in his hand when he shows up in a little bit?” I asked, confused and a little worried. I didn’t know why, but something felt off.
Elise scrunched her nose. “You don’t think they’re from...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened.
“No. I mean, they couldn’t be. Xander wouldn’t send me flowers.” Those yellow flowers from the bookshop filled my mind, but my dad had signed the card for those. These didn’t have a note. It was really weird.
“I don’t know. I’ll ask Miles. Or, I don’t know. What should I do?”
“Maybe we should call that detective,” Elise offered.
“I’m not sure. It seems like I’d be blowing things out of proportion if I do.”
“Who are we calling?” Mackenzie came toward us and stood, hands on her hips. “You got flowers?”
“Apparently. I just don’t know who they’re from.”
“Let’s just put them down.” Elise set the bouquet on the table in the hallway. “Maybe we should take a picture. I don’t know. Why am I so paranoid?”
“We’re all paranoid,” I added as I rubbed my hands on my jeans. “It’s just weird. But there’s not anything we can do about it, is there?”