I can’t believe I didn’t kiss her.
Fuck. I’m such an idiot.
But it was the right thing to do. You have to keep her safe. Nothing else matters.
Chapter 12 - Georgie
It was so silly of me to think he would kiss me.
But in the moment, the intensity, the imminence of that kiss felt so real…it was as though it had already happened. But then he pulled away, and my heart crashed, and I felt the all-too-familiar reminder of rejection.
So, it was silly of me, all in all, that I forgot how clear he made it years ago that he isn’t interested in me in that way.
There is no reason to hold on to hope like I’ve been doing. The problem is that every time I manage to rein my heart in, even to the slightest degree, he does something to make me doubt myself. He gives me hope again.
Ugh. I’m like a puppy chasing a bone.I huff at my thoughts and push the blankets off my body, moving so that I’m sitting on the edge of his bed.
My clothes smell like him now.
I use my fingers to brush my hair over my shoulder. My hair smells of him, too. Everything, even my skin, is brushed with the remnants of being that close to him.
And my body is like a nuclear bomb, waiting to go off, hormones raging and heart pulsing.
I shake my head, sighing loudly as I stand up. I can hear the shower running from behind the closed bathroom door.
He isn’t interested, Georgie. He wasn’t going to kiss you. It was all in your head.
I could swear he was, though.
No.
He would have. He had the perfect opportunity in that moment, and he chose to turn away from you.
Actions speak louder than words. That’s the rule of life.
Embarrassed and disappointed, I hurry out of his room and into my own before he finishes in the bathroom.
The entire day, my head is swarmed by thoughts of him. I don’t have to go to class, but I am supposed to be studying, but I can’t get myself to focus.
Lying on my bed with textbooks spread around me, I tap my pen against my notepad and groan at myself. I haven’t written down a single note for the past hour. I’m not paying attention at all. I can’t even remember the paragraph I just read.
The thing is, it’s not only that moment from this morning. And I’ve thought about the almost-kiss a hundred times. The bottom line is that I’m pretty good at reading people, and hewasabout to kiss me. But it could have been different reasons than what I would hope for.
But it’s notjustthat moment that I’m factoring in. There was the night before, our long talk, how much he opened up to me, and how supportive he was in celebrating with me at dinner.
It all means something.
Or it means nothing, and he only spoke to you because you bullied him into it, refusing to back down or give up.
I roll onto my back and press my fingers against my eyes. Maybe I was too pushy. But I really enjoyed speaking to him late into the night. And even more than that, I enjoyed waking up in his arms, pressed against his gorgeous body with his eyes on me. I can’t be that naive that I’m reading so wrongly into this situation.
But also, I’m fully aware of my own bias, my wants and needs outweighing my ability to see things for what they are instead of what I hope for. And if I also include the fact that I’ve been dreaming of this man for years, comparing everyone to him…I imagine if I went to a psychologist, they’d tell me I’m suffering from limerence.
I chuckle. Diagnosing myself has never been too easy.
This whole situation has thrown me off, though.
It’s frustrating.
