“Oh.” Colour rises in her cheeks and she looks down at her drink.
I nod. “I don’t think we should do it again.”
She stops walking, hurt flickering across her features. But just as quickly, her usual cool mask slides back into place.
“You didn’t have fun?” she asks quietly.
“I had a lot of fun,” I say firmly.
She looks up at me through her lashes, and my breath stutters at how drop dead gorgeous she is.
“And yet, you don’t want to do it again.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “I just think…if we’re friends, there are boundaries we probably shouldn’t cross.”
“Like anything sexual?”
I nod. “Exactly.”
She studies me for a long moment, and I begin to worry that she’s probably overthinking my reasons for saying what I did and I’ve inadvertently hurt her feelings.
“Okay,” she says with a shrug as she begins to walk again.
I blink at her nonchalance, hurrying after her. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she says again.
I scoff. “That didn’t take much thought.”
Kairi shrugs and finally looks at me. “I value our friendship, Colton. And you’re right—there are boundaries we shouldn’t cross.”
My stomach sinks. “So…no more sexual things?”
She stops and turns to me. “No more sexual things,” she says with a nod, lifting her pinky between us. “Pinky promise.”
I stare at her finger between us because deep down I don’t want to promise this. I don’t want to go backward. One night with Kairi was enough to ruin me because it washer.
But I know this is the right choice because I can’t be a good friend while secretly hoping every other option crashes and burns so she’ll run to me instead. So I swallow hard and lift my hand, hooking my pinky around hers as she watches me carefully.
“Pinky promise,” I say, the words landing in the pit of my stomach like stone.
ELEVEN
KAIRI
“So…areyou two dating now or something?” Maliah asks, watching me adjust the flowers around my book flat lay for the hundredth time.
“Who?” I mumble, angling my phone to catch the light just right.
“Who do you think?” Eliana snorts. “Colton.”
I flinch and my phone slips from my hands, crushing the arrangement. I stare at the mess, feeling my frustration bubbling because I’ve been trying to take the perfect shot for my Bookstagram account for at least thirty minutes now.
“Seriously?” I groan, staring at the mess.
I pick up my phone and scroll quickly, praying I got at least one decent shot, then sigh and turn to face them. “No. We’re not dating. We’re just friends.”
They both snort, then look at each other and immediately burst into laughter. I can’t help smiling, even as I shake my head. I’ve missed this—just us girls, without all the chaos that comes with the boys.
