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“I make you uncomfortable?” He frowns, fury flashing in his eyes. “Is that what you tell yourself so you don’t have to admit you still care?”

My breath gets stuck in my throat. I jerk my head, lifting my chin. “I didn’t come here to talk about feelings.”

“No,” he says firmly. “You came here because you can’t ignore me any more than I can ignore you. Because, despite it all, our years of friendship…you feel it too. There’s something between us, always has been…”

His words stop registering. My mind is too chaotic, and my heart is thrashing so loudly, it drowns out what he’s saying.

All I want is for him to stop talking. I want him to let me think.

Before I can stop myself, I stand on my tiptoes, cuff his neck, pull his face down, and kiss him.

Just to shut him up.

The move isn’t soft or gentle. It’s full of anger and frustration. I mold my mouth to his, desperate almost, and he goes completely still.

Alarm bells go off in my head. What am I doing?

I press my hands to his chest, ready to push away, but he circles his arms around my waist and tugs me closer. I suck in a breath, my lips parting, and he takes advantage of the opening, kissing me back. Hot and hard, his lips move against mine.

Everything about this kiss is wrong.

How good it feels is wrong.

The way he smells—just like he always did, of mint and citrus and another, more masculine scent—is wrong.

But the biggest issue here is that I want more.

I sink my teeth into his bottom lip, and he groans, low and broken. The sound travels from my lips to my toes, and then up into my brain.

It’s like a kill switch. Suddenly, I’m aware of everything. Of what I’m doing. Of who I’m doing it with.

This is my ex-best friend.

The boy who didn’t choose me.

The boy I told myself I was over.

The boy I swore I didn’t care about anymore.

And yet…my chest constricts, and my pulse beats wildly, making my skin hum. A feeling I buried long ago is stirring inside me, and I’m not ready for it.

As my breaths saw in and out of my lungs, I pull away. His chest rises and falls quickly, his own breaths shallow. My lips feel swollen, and the buzzing under my skin grows uncomfortable.

“What the hell was that?” he asks on an exhale. He studies me like he’s trying to read my thoughts, like he’s dangerously close to discovering all the emotions I’m desperately trying to bury.

“I just wanted you to shut up,” I snap, fighting back tears. I’m furious—at him, but mostly at myself.

I need to leave.

“Isla…” His voice softens.

The way my name leaves his lips knocks the air out of my lungs, twisting my heart into a knot.

I clench my jaw. “Don’t say my name like that. I’d prefer you stick with Ice Queen.”

He takes a step forward, but I lift a hand, stopping him.

“I didn’t come here for this,” I whisper, my lips tingling. That kiss never should’ve happened. “I didn’t come here to…” A wave of exhaustion rolls over me. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”