As soon as I close the door behind me, I spot Crew heading towards the door. His head turns so fast that I swear he got whiplash from it.
But the moment his eyes land on mine, every single word that was about to leave my mouth vanishes. Disappears. I’m supposed to be the girl who’s unafraid to say what’s on her mind, but right now, my mind is blank.
Everything I wanted to say is gone.
But then, Carson’s words run through my mind.
Just go back and kiss him again.
I can’t believe I’m actually taking guy advice from my twin brother of all people—the same guy who threw a pie at Diana’s face when they first met—but he’s got a point.
Actions speak louder than words, right?
I walk around the couch and coffee table, towards the front door. With each step, I’m telling myself not to think too much about it because if I do, I’ll back out and hide in my room again.
Right now, I’m a little tired of hiding.
“Carly, what’s going—”
Before Crew can finish that sentence, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to my level to kiss him.
This time, I’m not hesitating. I’m showing Crew how I feel through this kiss, how I’ve felt since that night he helped me with my film. I’m laying it all out there with this.
As his arm snakes around my waist, I relax into the kiss, because now I know my thoughts are toying with me. He initiated for a reason, and it wasn’t because of some mental misguidance.
Crew wanted to kiss me, too.
I feel like a giddy teenager as I pull away from him, my gaze a little foggy as Crew’s eyes slowly open up and his dark irises connect with mine.
A beat passes without a single word being spoken between us. Then, the door opens, and Crew steps out, the silence following him and the cool breeze coming in.
My heart sinks to the floor.
There’s no way I’m imagining this, right? Someone pinch me and tell me that Crew didn’t walk out and leave me standing there after I just kissed him.
Please don’t tell me I screwed up our friendship—or what’s left of it—because this is one heartbreak I might not recover from for a long time.
19
Facing the Past FAILED
Crew
The most surprising thing to come out of the past few weeks has to be my current plans for tonight—and that’s saying something.
What the hell is up with me?
“Dude, what’s with the fancy shit?” Vinny asks as I grab my jacket from the couch.
Shrugging it on, I respond with, “Dad wanted to have dinner with me.”
The shock conveyed onto Vinny’s face is the exact reaction I had when my father called me about it a couple of nights ago, asking to hash things out at dinner.
Growing up, that was almost always his solution: get some food and talk about it, because it’s hard to be unreasonable when eating food. He even suggested a fairly public restaurant, which I don’t exactly enjoy. Mostly because I don’t think fights can be resolved properly in public, but I digress.
“That’s it?” Vinny asks, baffled.
I nod. “That's what he said.”
