I’m laughing until I notice the plastic bag at her feet.Shit. I think she meant food.
“Scored what I could,” she says. “You get Millie’s banana bread with—wait for it—walnuts.”
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”
She hands me a piece of the bread, then grabs one for herself. We eat in silence for a minute, legs stretched out, shoulders brushing. The city loud below: traffic, a dog barking, somewhere, someone slamming a car door.
“You ever think about how weird it is?” she asks suddenly.
“What?”
“That the world just… keeps going. Like, we’re up here, doing our own thing, and everyone else is just… in motion. No idea what we’re feeling. No idea we even exist.”
I glance over at her. “Is it weird that I like it that way? The privacy.”
She looks out at the horizon. “Is it weird that I don’t?”
I study her face in profile—how her mouth curves when she’s thinking.
“Probably the dance,” she says, taking a bite. “I keep having this dream… theater packed with people. Maybe I want someone to notice.”
“I notice.”
She turns to me, chewing, and covers her mouth with the back of her hand. “What?”
“I notice. I notice how you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking about something that bothers you. I notice you always crack your neck to the left before you say something important. I notice you hum songs when you think no one’s listening. I notice how you hide your birthmark like it isn’t cute. Pisses me off because it’s damn cute. I notice how your eyes get this little sparkle right before you’re about to say something smartass. I notice you, okay? I’ve been noticing.”
I pause, letting my eyes drop from hers down to her lips, then back up. “I notice how you breathe a little faster when I get this close to you. And I notice that you’re doing it right now.”
Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, breaking the tension.
“So not many nights left in this hellhole for you,” I say, changing the subject, trying to calm my own body down. “You must be thrilled.”
She breathes. “I thought I would be. I don’t know. I feel guilty too.”
“Because of your parents?” I ask, setting the food aside.
“Yeah.” She stares down at her food. “They've spent my whole life helping me get here, and now I'm... leaving them.”
I hate the sadness in her voice. Hate the way it makes me feel useless. Before she can sink any deeper into it, I move closer and wrap an arm around her. “Is this fucked up?” I ask quietly. “Wanting you again already?”
“No,” she says finally. “But we probably shouldn’t.”
I nod but neither of us moves.
She’s still holding the last of the food between her fingers. I lean in and take a bite, grinning as I do. A crumb gets stuck on the corner of my mouth, and before I can brush it away, her thumb is there, gently wiping my lip. Without breaking eyecontact, she brings that thumb to her own mouth and slowly licks the crumb off.
“Bad little rabbit,” I catch her wrist and bring her thumb back to my own mouth, sucking the sweetness off her skin, then bite down just enough to make her gasp.
“I’m still hungry,” I say, pulling her to straddle me.
“Jax…” she warns, barely audible.
“Yeah?”
“We said just once.”
“Did we?” My hand slides up her back to tangle in her hair, using it to tilt her head to the side. “I think I missed that part.” I drag my teeth along the sensitive skin of her neck, before soothing the sting with my tongue.
