Nerves pulse through me as I reach my floor and walk to my door.
You can do this.
She deserves to know how you feel, and she doesn’t want it to be awkward anymore, so this is it.
Take your shot.
I open the door to a dimly lit apartment. Blakely is curled on the couch with the TV on. When she sees me, she lifts to a more seated position.
“Oh . . . wow, you’re back fast.”
I shut the door behind me and set my bag on the ground. “Short trip,” I answer.
“I can see that.” She rubs her eyes, then turns off the TV. “I guess I didn’t realize what time it was. I had a cup of coffee because I slept during the game and wanted to stay awake. I think it’s done its job.”
I nod but don’t move because fuck, I feel frozen. Now that she’s here, right in front of me, I’ve lost all of my words, everything I’ve prepared to say to her.
She looks me up and down and says, “Well, I guess I should get to bed.” She stands from the couch and folds her blanket before draping it over the couch’s armrest.
Say something, Halsey.
Tell her how you feel.
Don’t let her walk away to get ready for bed when this sits heavily on your chest.
But as she starts to head toward her room, I know I’m losing it.
The moment is slipping from me.
And panic starts to set in.
“I like you,” I call out, pausing her retreat.
Slowly, she turns around, her hair floating over her shoulder as her surprised eyes connect with mine. “What?” she asks.
Jesus Christ, Halsey, be softer.
I let out a heavy breath and take a step forward. “I like you, Blakely. I’ve liked you for a very long fucking time. Since the day I first met you. And I, fuck . . .” I pull on the back of my neck. “I never made a move because I respected the fact that you had a boyfriend, even though it pained me, so I kept to myself.” I takeanother step forward, keeping my gaze on hers, trying to read her neutral expression. She’s giving me nothing to work with. “But that entire time you were with Perry, I felt like you belonged with me. And when you broke up, I felt like I had a chance, but I didn’t handle it properly.” I push my hand through my hair. “I actually handled it in all the wrong ways. I should have just asked you out on a date, but instead, I tried . . . I tried to show you that I have potential to be someone you could like and, Jesus, it was stupid.”
“Is that what you want?” she asks. “To ask me out on a date?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling the desperation in my voice. “I want to take you out, Blakely. I want to talk. I want to have a relationship more than what we do in the bedroom. When you said you missed talking to me, I felt the same thing, deep in my soul. And I know I should have said this sooner, but fuck . . . I want you to give me a chance. Desperately. I want to see where this connection between us could go.” I close the space between us, growing so close that if I reach out I could take her hand in mine. I could press my palm to her cheek. I could hold her close to my chest. “And I know that you took a new job, that you’ll be leaving, but I would—”
“I’m not leaving.”
“What?” I ask.
“I took the job, but I’m not moving. I’m staying here.”
“R-really?” I ask, hope surging through my chest.
She nods. “I’m not going anywhere other than trying to figure out where to set up a home office. I didn’t want to leave Vancouver. I love it here.”
“Fuck, seriously?” I ask as I drag my hand over my hair.
“Seriously.” She smiles.
“Jesus.” I let out a heavy breath.
