“I know,” I murmured, shifting my hand so I could squeeze his back, grounding him the same way he always grounded me. “And we will.”
“When?” he asked. A small frown tugged at his mouth, like he was already bracing for the answer.
“When the time is right,” I said lightly, shrugging. Then, before the silence could deepen into something dangerous, I added, “Where did you want to eat?”
I changed the subject, and I knew exactly why. If Austin told me his stories, I would have to tell him mine. And I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Because in those stories, I wasn’t Yellow. I wasn’t even close. I liked being Yellow. I liked the way he looked at me now, like I had never been anything but this bright, soft color. I didn’t want to see that look change. Austin hesitated, clearly still caught on what I’d said, and then I remembered, he hadn’t actually planned on breakfast this morning. Not really.
“I mean,” I added quickly, filling the space before he could, “if you still want to. I can just follow you so I can grab my car. We don’t have to eat if you’re busy, or if you have plans…”
“Yellow,” Austin smiled again. He let go of my hand, his fingers lifting to my face instead. His knuckles brushed along my cheekbone, the touch barely there. Feather-light. Intentional. “Stop doing that.”
“What?” I asked, forgetting my own rambling completely. Forgetting how to breathe for a second, too. His touch did something to me. Something unfamiliar. Something I couldn’t remember ever feeling before.
“Second-guessing my attraction to you,” he said, tilting his head slightly. His eyes held mine like there were words written inside them, like he was daring me to read them. “I’ll always want to bearound you. You’re… you’re like peace. I’ll never get enough of you.”
“Okay,” I managed, though it felt like my brain had turned into a waterfall. Liquid. Rushing. Impossible to steady.
“Okay,” Austin echoed, smiling softly. His hand finally dropped away as he leaned back in his seat. “Do you mind if we go to my place? We can order something, or I can cook.”
“You cook?” I asked, genuine curiosity creeping into my voice. I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t expected that.
“I can,” he chuckled. “Perks of being abandoned at a young-ish age, I guess.”
“Oh.” The word came out small. Uncertain. I tried to find something better to say, but he spoke again before I could.
“It’s fine,” he smiled, like it really was. “You’ll follow me?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, already reaching for the door handle. As I stepped out, I felt his eyes on me the entire time. Like if he looked away, even for a second, I might disappear.
The shift from Austin’s car to mine was sudden in my mind as I sank into the familiar cloth interior of my trusted vehicle. It felt grounding in a way I hadn’t expected. I still wasn’t used to the effortless lavishness that seemed to follow him everywhere, and I wasn’t sure I ever would be. Austin waited until my seatbelt was fastened securely around my waist before pulling away. As I started following him, I couldn’t help but laugh at the difference between how he was driving now and how he usually did. Careful. Measured. Like he was afraid I might get lost if he didn’t make every turn slow and deliberate enough for me to mirror.
We drove through the streets, and my thoughts slowly drifted inward. I wondered if I was making a mistake by not lettingAustin finish what he had been trying to tell me. He had clearly wanted to talk about his past. Needed to, maybe. But there was a part of me that didn’t want to hear it yet. I knew my limits. I had learned them the hard way. My limit was dating an addict. My limit was loving another addict. And if Austin wasn’t that, then he wasn’t that. Simple as that. But maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe I just didn’t want the illusion of us to be touched yet. I wanted us to be steadier. Stronger. More certain in the way we saw each other before we introduced the parts of ourselves that were jagged and difficult to hold.
Like I had said before, there are things that change the way people see you once they know them. I liked the way I saw Austin right now. And I liked the way he saw me. So why couldn’t we leave it like that for now? Because when Austin told me he used to be a player, or a jerk, or even a thief or a partier, I was certain his past would be easier to explain than mine. And then the realization hit me, quietly and all at once.
The reason I didn’t want Austin knowing about my past wasn’t because I feared his judgment. It was because I was the very thing I had refused to accept of him. I was an addict. Once. Maybe not to booze or drugs, but addiction doesn’t care what form it takes. I had been addicted to control. To losing weight. To numbers. To calories and restriction. To the satisfaction of saying no when my body was begging for yes. My own words would be used against me now.Whether it had been one year ago or five, an addict was an addict.
I let out a heavy sigh as I recognized the neighborhood we were driving through. The houses were massive in a way that still felt incomprehensible to me, even after seeing them before. I couldn’t imagine growing up here. I couldn’t imagine the kind of security that came with knowing your family had this muchmoney. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering how different my life might have been if I’d been born into streets like these instead of my own shabby ones. But then I remembered what Austin had told me earlier. Money isn’t everything. So maybe the what-ifs weren’t worth holding onto.
I shook the thoughts away as I pulled into his driveway, carefully inching my car in behind his. As always, Austin was quick. By the time I’d unbuckled, he was already out of his car and opening my door. And even though I really shouldn’t have been surprised anymore, I still was. Every time he did something gentlemanly, it caught me off guard. I had never known a boy like him before. Austin took my hand as I stepped out, pulling me easily into him. His other hand settled at the small of my back, grounding and familiar now.
“So,” he asked as we walked toward the heavy black doors of his house, “what are you in the mood for?”
“I don’t know,” I laughed, suddenly picturing him in an apron. “Surprise me.”
“Surprise you, huh, Yellow?” He lifted his eyebrows as he slid his key into the lock. Before the door was even fully open, a girl’s voice rang out from inside.
“Austin! How’d she take it? Did you tell her about the drug—”
Austin swore under his breath, a sharp string of curses tumbling out all at once. The door opened fully, and a beautiful girl stood frozen in front of us. I recognized her instantly. Seren.
“Oh fuck,” she muttered. Her face went blank as her eyes darted between Austin and me, panic settling in like she had just realized she’d made a catastrophic mistake.
Drug? The word hit me with a delay, like my brain hadn’t caught up to what my ears had just heard. Drug? My head snapped toward Austin, and if looks could kill, Seren might have dropped right there on his polished entryway floor.
“Yeah,” Austin bit out, his arms falling away from me completely, the sudden loss of contact jarring. “I told her. I told her enough. About Holden. About how I knew him before I met her.” Understanding rushed in at his explanation, fast and unwelcome. “The better question,” Austin continued, his tone sharp as he turned to Seren, “is what the fuck you’re doing here. You said Zane was picking you up.” There was still annoyance in his voice, but it was already fading. Softening. And I had the distinct feeling that Austin couldn’t stay mad at Seren even if he genuinely wanted to. Even if she deserved it.
“Yeah, but I wanted to—uh,” Seren rolled her lips together, hesitating. Despite myself, her beauty still caught me off guard. “I wanted to get the update firsthand.” Austin and Seren exchanged a look. One I couldn’t quite decode. Something unspoken passed between them before Seren finally turned toward me, her smile lighting up her face like it had always lived there.
