A playful glitter danced in his eyes. “Yes.”
“What’s it like?” I asked him.
“What, likekissing?”
“Yes. When it’s with someone you care about—”
“I wasn’t necessarily infatuated with the girls I’ve kissed. I told you I don’t feel…thatkind of attraction to a person unless I’ve already established an emotional connection with them. I need for—well, I need them to be my friend first” he explained. “I didn’t feel anything there, it was before I knew this was the kind of person I was.”
“Someone who can’t fake it?” I scoffed, folding my arms.
“Someone whowon’t,” he said rather sternly.
“Oh,” I sighed.
“Yeah. So it felt close but only physically, emotionally there was an infinity between us that wouldn’t collide,” he explained. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t—I don’t know.” I glanced away. I lied. He wasn’t ready for that truth.
And then Wynter was talking about his summer skating goals, about a new move he was working on, but I could barely hear him. My mind was buzzing, heart pounding at every word, every laugh. I’d waited all summer for this; these quiet moments when it was just the two of us and the ocean, like the whole world had melted away. I couldn’t shake this feeling, this certainty that tonight was different, that tonight he would finally see me the way I felt.
When he caught me staring, his eyes softened, lingering just a moment longer than usual. My heart fluttered, and I couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto my face. He was looking at me,reallylooking, like maybe—just maybe—he felt it too.
His gaze dropped, flickering down to my lips, and my breath caught. This wasit. I couldfeelit, a thrill spreading through me like lightning, like every daydream I’d ever had about him was finally coming true. I leaned in, eyes drifting shut, my pulse a steady drum in my ears. He was going to kissme. He was actually going to kiss me.
But then, his arm brushed past me, his hand reaching just over my shoulder to grab his water bottle from the pier’s edge. “Bloody hell, it’s so hot,” he mumbled, breaking the perfect silence and unscrewing the cap. “Do you think they’d freak out if we jumped in?”
I blinked, my mind reeling, heart still hammering as I realized… I’d beenwrong. He hadn’t even noticed how close we were, hadn’t felt the moment I’d convinced myself was there? He’d just been reaching past me.
I felt a flush creeping up my neck, ashamefulheat that burned hotter than the sun. I’d misread everything. Every look, every smile, all those little moments that had felt so real to me—just…nothing to him. Just me spinning stories out of thin air, letting myself believe in something that only existed in my own head.
“Yeah… They’d probably yell at us,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. I forced a laugh, hoping he couldn’t hear the tremble in it, the way my heart was shattering in my chest.
Wynter grinned, oblivious, tossing another pebble into the waves. “Six skips!” he shouted, as if this was just any other night, as if he hadn’t just shattered my hopes without even realizing it.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment, every beat of my heart stinging with the harsh realization of how foolish I’d been. I wanted to look away, to hide the disappointment and hurt that I knew must be all over my face, but I couldn’t move. I was frozen, caught in this stupid fantasy I’d built up in my head.
How could I have thought he felt the same way? How could I have been so delusional? I was his best friend’s little sister,nothing more. And yet, I’d sat here like a fool, expecting him to look at me and see something else, something worth leaning in for. I’d made up every bit of it, and now I had to sit here, pretending my heart wasn’t breaking right beside him.
I turned away, looking out at the waves swallowing the fading light, letting my gaze drift over the ocean and trying to focus on anything but him. But the ache lingered, pressing down on my chest, a hollow reminder of what I’d let myself believe.
21
Melting The Ice King
Wynter's apartment was eerily quiet. The last echoes of laughter and late-night whispers lingered in the air. Everyone else had left the second morning swung around, and Bae was still curled up asleep in her room, so it was just us in the aftermath of the sleepover mess. I grabbed a pile of blankets from the couch, folding them neatly, and turned to find Wynter watching me from the corner of the room, leaning against the door frame.
"You don't have to help, you know," he explained, crossing his arms with that soft, unreadable look of his. "This isn't your mess."
"Well, I can't just leave you here with all this," I concluded, gesturing to the mess around us. "Plus, maybe I'm trying my very best to be invited back."
He rolled his eyes playfully at that, shaking his head. "Believe me, you're always invited."
"Yeah?" I questioned, lifting an eyebrow.
"Yes," he nodded.
His smile, that heavensent smile of his, almost made me feel guilty for my hellbound thoughts. That smile was dangerous, something that seemed to linger on me like a bad cold. I looked down, keeping busy stacking dishes in the sink as he joined me. We fell into an easy rhythm, working together to make the space more livable again, and I couldn't help but notice how natural it felt to be here with him, the steady brush of his shoulder every now and then as we cleaned everything up. I could get used to this, I thought, especially now that—now that I felt we could someday be more. When we finally finished, he sighed, looking out the window.
