Page 63 of Head Under Water

“Will.” I grab hold of the chair, fingertips brushing his shoulder. I give a gentle tug, waiting to see if he’ll resist. He doesn’t. Slowly, I spin him around to face me. “The work can wait.”

His eyes flick across my face, down my neck, to my hands. His throat works like he’s swallowing something he’s not ready to say. “I can’t sit still. I need to do something. I need to be busy.”

I lift my palms and smooth my thumbs over the stubble on his cheeks, electricity crackling in my veins. “So eat. Shower. Talk to me. But don’t work. Not right now. Please. Give yourself time to…to process.”

His eyes soften in the corners when he meets my gaze. For just a second, he looks younger. The Will I remember from before. Lost.

He leans his cheek into my hand, closing his eyes, warm breath against my skin. He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding it in all day.

His fingers wrap around my wrist, and for just a moment, I think he’s going to stop me. But he doesn’t. He’s holding me in place, dragging out the moment like he doesn’t want it to end.

He pushes up from the chair so he’s towering over me, his stormy gaze pinning me in place. Each breath feels like I’m fighting for it.

He lifts a single finger, then runs it down the front of my face as if he’s caressing me, keeping the smallest amount of space between our skin so we never actually connect.

He breathes out like he’s accepting something. Giving in to something. At last, he touches me, smoothing his hand over my cheek, cradling my jaw.

His eyes scan me like I’m something new he’s just discovered.

Something dark flashes across his features. His thumb stills against my skin. His jaw goes stiff, and he nearly withdraws. I see it. I feel the moment it happens.

Instead, he opens his mouth, and the question slips out.

“Did you say yes to Cory?”

“I…” The words slam into my chest. My pulse kicks up. “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”

He just stares, his lips a hard line. “I want to talk about it.” His voice drops, rougher now. Like he’s barely holding on to control. “It’s all I want to talk about.”

His stubbornness ignites a fire in me. “Why, Will?” My heart hammers in my chest, my eyes searching his. “Are you planning to punch him too?”

His lips quirk, more like a muscle twitch than a smile.

We’ve never fully addressed that.

His thumb draws a circle across my jawbone. This touch is suddenly different. Possessive. Something changes in his eyes. He lowers his face closer to mine until our noses brush. It feels like a fever dream.

“I guess you haven’t figured it out yet, Opal,” he murmurs, breath warm against my mouth, “but fucking no one can be mean to you.” He hesitates, then gives a small jerk of a nod. “Except me.”

Then he drops my chin and leaves the room.

I stay frozen for a long, long time, listening to his footsteps fade. The unspoken truth sinks into my skin.

I’ve always been afraid to open this door—to fully acknowledge whatever exists between Will and me. Even the small peeks I’ve taken over the years, the what-ifs, have felt too dangerous.

But the fact remains, undeniable and terrifying. Saying yes to Cory is saying no to Will, and as much as I can’t open that door yet, as much as I know I may not ever be able to, I’m not sure I can lock it either.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

AGE 19

Will keeps his word. He stays away. I barely see him the rest of the semester. Over the summer, he takes a job at a camp a few hours from home, which means he’s only around for a week before we return to campus. He’s avoiding me, I know, and it’s fine if that’s what he wants to do. I won’t try to stop him.

I’m happy, and I don’t miss him.

I don’t even think about him.

Banks and I are still planning to hang out this year, though he’s remained adamant about not wanting to get too serious. Next semester is his last, and after he finishes his PhD, he’s moving home. Neither of us wants to get hurt when that happens. He has to build a life away from here and I have to stay and focus on school.