Like puzzle pieces.
His body pressed into mine, solid and warm, and the room suddenly felt very still. His hand moved slowly, carefully up from my waist, skimming over my chest and brushing the side of my neck.
My breath caught.
So did his.
When our eyes met, something shifted. Or maybe it had been shifting all night, quietly building between laughter and shared glances and late-night conversations after everyone else had gone to bed.
I wasn’t imagining this.
Josh was going to kiss me.
This was actually happening. I could feel it in the way his chest rose and fell against mine, in how his gaze dropped to my lips and lingered. The room spun slightly, or maybe that was just me. I leaned forward.
“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I froze, eyes wide. My heart slammed against my ribs.
What was I doing?
I whispered, “I … I was going to kiss you.”
It was the truth. The bravest, most terrifying truth I’d likely ever spoken. I could’ve brushed it off, but I didn’t. I was about to kiss Josh Hutton, and he …
Josh’s expression shifted, eyes narrowing slightly, as if he hadn’t expected me to admit it. “Kiss me?”
“I thought … when you led me in here and then how you looked at me …”
“How I looked at you?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were going to kiss me.”
“You thought I was going to kiss you?” His tone wasn’t unkind exactly. But it wasn’t encouraging either. It was laced with caution. Like he was trying to backpedal through fog.
“Yes.” Heat rose in my cheeks. “I thought … after this week, after everything … I thought maybe you felt something too. I thought we were …”
“Having fun,” he said, cutting in. “We’re literally playing a game right now.”
The words sliced through me. So stark. So final.
I blinked, trying to keep my expression neutral. I could feel the tightening in my chest, the way my throat was beginning to close. “Right. Sure. Fun.”
“I mean …” He hesitated, eyes still on me, but now unreadable. “I’m definitely not going to kiss my little sister’s kid best friend.”
I stiffened. “I’m not a kid.”
“The fact that you feel the need to say that kind of proves my point.”
My breath left me in a rush. I stepped back—or tried to, but there was nowhere to go in the tiny space. I pushed gently against his chest until he moved, just far enough to give me room to breathe.
“You were the one who said it,” I muttered, not looking at him.
“I chose to be your partner because I felt bad for you,” he said quietly, like it was something that should make this better. “You said it yourself. You don’t have anyone here except Gina. No friends at school. I just didn’t want you to feel left out.”
I stared at him, cold settling into my bones. “You felt bad for me?”
He felt bad for me.
