My heart flutters as erratically as butterfly wings in topsy-turvy flight. Up, down, side to side.
Our eyes find each other, my thoughts trailing off. The moment feels like a loose tangle, the space within it still flexible.
Jack traces his fingers up the length of my arm, over my shoulder, and along my neck until the side of my face rests against his palm. I tilt my head into his warm hand. Gently, he sweeps his thumb over my cheek.
It’s delicate, his touch. I want him to grab me tighter, hold me close. There’s no choice in this, no decision making. It’s what’s meant to happen. It must be.
“Have you ever wanted to do something that you know you shouldn’t do, but can’t help it?” Jack asks.
“Just kiss me already,” I say, leaning into him.
As if defying some sort of physics and logic, our bodies somehow move even closer than they already were. We don’t break eye contact until we close our eyelids at the moment our lips touch.
And just like that, the string pulls tight, collapsing into a smooth line.
I’m kissing Jack. Jack is kissing me.
We shouldn’t be doing this.
We’re doing this.
My tangled-up thoughts last until Jack runs his hands through my hair. His kiss is slow, unplanned, explorative. His teeth gently brush against my upper lip as I press into him. My head is spinning faster than it was in the simulator. My lips graze over his Supernova Scar, and I can feel the small crescent mark on my tongue.
We softly breathe in rhythm as we break for air. He holds my face in his hands. It’s a gesture that’s tender and protective and purposeful. His eyes search mine. I’m lost in his gaze, weightless against him, spacewalking without a tether.
We’re apart too long. He pulls me back to his parted mouth, and I twist his hair between my fingers to secure myself to him.
Then, a bright flash of lightning illuminates the capsule, shortly followed by a crack of thunder filling the silent air. We both startle.
“We’re in a garden full of metal,” Jack says. “We have to go.”
I scramble off his lap, out of the capsule, and down the stairs. Above us, the sky has split open, the downpour of rain soaking us. Another rumble of thunder overhead speeds us both up, and we sprint to shelter, exiting the Rocket Garden hand in hand.
Chapter 22
JACK
The rain does its job and soaks us completely through. The air-conditioning of the hotel makes everything feel colder. Rooney’s hand is still in mine. I keep a lookout for Kenneth just in case it was him. From what it looked like, though, he was going into the Space Center.
Rooney’s cardigan and pants are drenched, and she has no luggage.
“You can borrow some clothes,” I offer. When she nods, I lead us to my room, which isn’t fancy by any stretch of the imagination. There’s a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a chair in the corner. It’s small, but it’s not as cramped as the rocket. I’m both relieved and disappointed by this.
“I feel like my bones are wet,” Rooney says as she peels away her cardigan and kicks off her shoes at the door.
“Let me get you something to change into,” I say, leaving my jacket and shoes next to hers. I present Rooney with a choice of a blue button-down or a white T-shirt.
“Do you have anything red?” she jokes, taking the blue button-down. “I’ll go with this. Less, uh, see-through.”
It’s an image I know I won’t be able to get out of my head anytime soon. An internal burst of heat pushes back against the room’s chill.
While Rooney changes in the bathroom, I put on a dry white T-shirt and gym shorts. My skin is still damp but at least my clothes aren’t. Rooney comes out wearing my shirt, the length of it hanging down to the middle of her thigh. I keep my eyes trained on her face.
“Blue’s not my color, but at least it’s dry,” she says. Her hair is still wet, her bangs plastered across her forehead. She sits on the side of the bed, watching me. Without her signature color, a new shade of Rooney emerges. She seems more vulnerable with her shield of red yarn gone.
I lower myself onto the other side of the bed across from her. It makes a creaking noise that breaks the tension between us. Rooney’s the first to laugh. I follow her lead and turn to face her.
“So…” I start.
