“And maybe she’s jealous of the way you see the world.”
I’ve never found it easy to take compliments. I usually play them off or counter by telling the person something I appreciate about them. But for once, I let Chase’s words settle over me like a blanket, like a hug.
His arms tighten around me slightly, snugging me closer. This is the exact position I’d dreamed of being in with Chase when I was in high school.
After a long exhale that I’ve been holding in some pocket of my body for over a decade, the tension in me relaxes and it’s like all that weird luck goes with it.
When I blink open my eyes, Chase’s are still there, sparkling blue, gazing intently at me. I could lean in a fraction. He’d do the same. Then I’d tilt my head and he’d lower his. It wouldn’t take much for our lips to come together.
We could kiss right now. It would be so easy. So good.
Instead, I catch the glowing light of Blancbourg in the distance, reminding me that I’m his coach. I already bent the rules tonight by going off-site instead of dining at the school.
“We should head back.”
Chase drops his arm and clears his throat as if coming out from under a spell. “Oh, right. Yeah. Forgot about that.” He glances over his shoulder.
When he turns back to me, his eyes are blue flame. His lips bunch together with a smolder. I wonder if he used to practice this look in the mirror because it undoes me. My cheeks blaze.
“I’m guessing it wouldn’t be appropriate to kiss you, considering our situation.”
The rest of my body goes up in fire. “Probably not,” I manage to say.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” he adds as if testing the boundary one more time.
“My place is down that way. Can I trust you to get back to Blancbourg without getting into trouble?”
He wears an amused grin. “Trust me? Yes. Trouble? I can’t make any promises.”
“Ha ha. But seriously, it’s getting late and I should probably make the safe and smart choice to—” I thumb toward my street.
“Safe and smart? Is the opposite of that dangerous and dumb?”
I give him a look of apology. “I wouldn’t want my boss—” I can’t quite complete my sentences because, yes, right now I want to be so dangerous. So dumb. I’m dumb for Chase and being around him is majorly dangerous.
“You can’t jeopardize your job. I get it.” His exhale is ragged. “At least, let me walk you home. I insist, and not only because my gentlemanly behaviors are being evaluated.”
It takes less than two minutes to reach the flat on Golden Strasse. Silence follows us along the damp street and lingers as we say an awkward goodbye. It’s like neither one of us wants tonight to end, but there’s the etiquette student and teacher situation.
Chase leans forward, moving toward my cheek for a chaste kiss, much like I gave him the other day. As if fighting with himself, he shifts an inch and his lips land closer to my mouth. We both go still, calling upon every thread of willpower we possess.
Finally, I find my voice and say, “Thank you for tonight. I had a nice time.” I can’t risk meeting Chase’s eyes, so I rush up to my flat.
Once upstairs, I look out the street-facing window, hands in pockets, he remains where I left him for a long beat. His inner battle must rage on as he deliberates whether to come up or head back to the manor. At last, he strides down Golden Strasse and I watch until he turns the corner.
I dissolve into a cloud of candy floss, cotton candy, fairy sugar, or whatever it’s called and flop onto the loveseat.
Not only did I learn Chase had meant to ask me to the prom—blowing everything I’d believed about the sponge cake senior year, and each and every embarrassing moment before and after it to smithereens—we both also stood up to Marlow.
Then there wasThe Moment. Not a moment. It was a capitalT,The Moment.It was an intense, sparkling eye contact moment with a suggestive smile, a slight lean forward, and an incline of the head at just the right angle.
We would’ve kissed had there not been a bloom of candy floss between us and two little kids begging for our attention. I had a vision of the future and I liked it. No, I loved it.
I’m still fizzing inside in the best of ways.
Something shifted tonight. It radiated between us, a spinning, swirling, surge ofsomething.
I pace the short track of hardwood floor in front of the three big windows in my flat that open to the village and mountains beyond. I bubble with energy, recalling how I felt when I learned the sponge cake was a misunderstanding. When I bravely told Chase that I’d been distracted by him and when Marlow tried to humiliate me all over again with the reminder of the saucident and the sonnet email.
