For a moment, we sat there, grinning at each other like idiots while cars honked and airport security officers waved people along and the whole chaotic world continued around us.
Then I remembered we were in a pickup lane and couldn’t sit there forever.
“We should probably go before someone tickets me,” I said, reaching for the gearshift.
At the exact same moment, Skyler leaned toward me.
“Wait, let me—”
Our movements collided in the middle.
His hand was reaching for something—the seat belt, maybe, or the door—and my hand was reaching for the gearshift, and somehow we’d both leaned in at the same time, turning toward each other, and then—
Then his face was inches from mine.
Less than inches.
He was close enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to, close enough that I could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, the slight part of his lips.
Close enough that I could taste his breath.
I was sure he could feel mine, too.
Neither of us moved.
The world outside the car ceased to exist.
The honking, the crowds, the security officers—all of it faded to white noise, drowned out by the thunder of my own heartbeat.
Skyler’s eyes dropped to my lips.
It was a slight movement. A micro-gesture.
But it lasted long enough for me to notice.
The air between us turned thick and electric, charged with the same impossible tension from the oak tree, from the moment under the branches when everything had shifted and neither of us had known what to do about it.
I could kiss him.
The thought crashed through my brain like a rogue wave.
I could close the distance between us right now, press my lips to his, and find out if this thing between us was real or something I’d invented in my own desperate imagination.
I could—
Skyler jerked back.
“Sorry.” His voice came out rough, strange. “Sorry, I was . . . the seat belt was . . . sorry.”
He turned away from me, fumbling with the seatbelt he hadn’t been reaching for, then fixing his gaze out the passenger window. His profile was rigid, jaw tight, and shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.
“It’s fine,” I managed, though my voice didn’t sound like mine. “No worries.”
I put the car in drive and pulled out of the pickup lane, merging into airport traffic with hands that were only slightly shaking. The silence in the car was deafening. It wasn’t the comfortable quiet we’d shared at the Taco Bus, but something heavier, painted with everything we weren’t saying.
Skyler didn’t look at me.
He kept his face turned toward the window, watching the airport give way to highway, his reflection ghosted in the glass. I couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was upset or embarrassed or feeling the same earthquake that was rearranging my internal landscape.
