We’re playing with fire and we both know it. Still, that doesn’t stop us. Despite our close call recently, we’re still pushing boundaries. It stays with hand holding and secret looks, but I’m not sure how long that will last. We’re both ticking time bombs, waiting to explode. It’s just a question of who’s going to light the fuse.
Rolling over onto my side, I stare into her eyes when she faces me as we lie on my bed. Like her hair, they’ve darkened over the years. Where they were as light as the sky, now they’re like blue ink. My best friend, the person I’ve known my whole life, lies deep inside there. In a sea of blue are all of our memories, hopes, secrets, and feelings, and that’s what constantly sucks me in. My line-of-sight travels the length of her straight, petite nose, down to her full lips. It amazes me how they’re always the perfect shade of pink, like she has on permanent lipstick. But that’s Mia: a natural beauty.
Without thought, I move slowly toward her until we’re a breath away. With my eyes trained on her lips, visions of us kissing as part of our pact when we were eleven flashes through my mind. But this is different. This is real.
Looking back up to her eyes, I need confirmation that this is okay. I don’t know how to tell her, so I want to show her how I really feel about her. That I don’t want to be just friends. She doesn’t move, only stares. My lips reach out to hers and barely brush across them, moving from side to side just to feel them against mine. It’s like touching silk they’re so soft. Although she doesn’t make a move to deepen the kiss, she doesn’t pull back either. Instead, she mimics my movement and lightly moves her lips back across mine. We’re both in this moment of discovery, timidly wading through uncharted waters.
I can’t hold back anymore and make the final move. My mouth covers hers softly, gently caressing her lips. The taste of cherries hits my tongue and I decide that’s my favorite flavor. We start off slow, but things start picking up and soon she’s opening her mouth to me and my tongue accepts her invitation. My hands travel from her hip up her rib cage. My mind sends a warning signal, telling me this is wrong and we should stop, but I ignore it and keep going. I want this—I want her—so bad that it hurts. My only hope is that she wants me in the same ways.
Several minute pass by and they’re the best of my life. With us connected in this way, nothing else matters for me. A tornado could blow the house over and that still wouldn’t be enough to pull me away from her. As that thought crosses my mind and my hand digs into her hip, she pulls away. Her chest moves up and down rapidly as she catches her breath. I rest my forehead against hers as I try to slow my breathing too.
“What are we doing?” she asks in a breathy whisper.
“I thought we were making out.” I try for humor, but know she wants answers deeper than that. I mean, she’s known me my whole damn life. How does she not know?
“I know that.” She pulls back and studies my face. Her careful inspection makes me nervous, like she’s searching for something bad, something that would convince her to run far away from me. “This is a bad idea,” she continues.
“Mia, I don’t know how—”
“No, we shouldn’t be doing this, Blake. We’re best friends. What happens if we keep going and it doesn’t work out? It’ll make things super complicated and awkward, and I don’t think I could take losing you.” Her eyebrows pull together and she actually looks pained.
These are all things I’ve already considered and gone over in my head. I don’t know what I’d do if Mia wasn’t in my life. There’s always risk involved with things like this, but I think it would be worth it. Does she not feel the same? Is our potential as a couple not worth it to her?
Every time I’m around her, all I can think about is how I want more. I care about her. Hell, I’ve loved her since we were six years old, I just didn’t know it. Her rejection is a punch to the gut and instantly sets me on the defense.
I sit up and move away from her. “Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t cross the line. I mean, it’s totally stupid to think we could work.” My tone is cold even to my own ears.
“I didn’t mean—”
“No,” I interrupt her, “it’s for the best.” We sit in silence for a few moments before I break it. “I have a lot of homework to do, so I think it might be time for you to go home.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her mouth drop open as she sits up in the bed. I don’t bother looking at her. This is what she wants, so I’m going to give it to her, even if it hurts me in the process. Without another word, she rises from the bed, leaves my room, and goes home.
As I’m trying—and failing—to do my homework, all I can think about is the feel of Mia’s lips on mine and how things ended when she left. If there wasn’t something there, she wouldn’t have kissed me back. I heard everything she was saying, but her actions spoke louder than her words. She feels this just as much as I do and I’m not giving up until she sees that.