Chapter Thirteen
Gordon
My head spinning, I stumbled out of the room after ten minutes passed and Zoey hadn’t returned. I went to the kitchen for water, but two gulps showed me that wasn’t enough. Time to hunt for Lennon’s Keurig. I found it stashed in a hidden cabinet above the marbled countertop, along with a wide selection of K-cups. I picked one at random and popped it in the machine, desperate to clear my head.
Note to self: never play Quarters or True American with Zoey.
She’d had it out for me, and I couldn’t blame her, but I also couldn’t deny there was something more happening between us. Something that I couldn’t explain, and wasn’t a hundred percent sure I wanted explained. I mean, it was just one night of pretending like we weren’t always pitted against each other. Like we were friends who connected on a level deeper than any academic competition or internship could muster.
Except it didn’t feel like we were pretending.
I took a sip of the steaming hot cup of coffee, cringing when the overly sweet flavor hit my tongue. It was like some over-the-top salted caramel mochaccino stuff—fancy people coffee—likely Lennon’s mom’s, but it would have to do. I’d driven here and would have to head home soon. I couldn’t show up to the meeting in the morning looking like I’d raged all night. Time to sober up.
A slight pang hit my chest. After the rough day, the buzz of the party—and Zoey—had kept the onslaught of disappointment at bay.
I needed to see her one last time.
Except as the sweet caffeine started to peel back the fog in my brain, my most recent conversation with her echoed in my ears.
She’s pissed.
No wonder she hadn’t come back. I hadn’t meant to upset her. I was just speaking out loud in general curiosity. Seriously, I wanted to know what it would be like to live a day in her world. A world where her future wasn’t dangling by a thin thread. I hadn’t meant to offend her…again.
I facepalmed myself with my free hand and sloshed back the rest of the coffee in a hurry. I had to find her to apologize…again. A couple on the verge of making out blocked the sink. Careful not to disrupt them, I set the empty mug on the counter.
Now to find Zoey.
But a quick scan of the house suggested that Zoey had ventured outward.
Assuming she didn’t leave.
A slight panic scraped at my insides, and I sucked in a slow breath to calm the eff down. She hadn’t drunk as much as I had—barely at all, really—so she would be fine to drive, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to.
That’s it. If I found her, I’d make it clear we were both done for the night. We could stay for Lennon’s show, but drinking wasn’t doing either of us any good.
That sounds awfully close to something a boyfriend would say.
I stopped short on Lennon’s front porch. Boyfriend?
Whoa, I just wanted one night where I wasn’t myself. When did I start…caring about Zoey as more than a clever adversary?
Probably the second she forgave you.
Maybe even before that.
I shook my head and stepped off Lennon’s porch steps, giving nods and high fives to a few guys as I headed toward the lake in search of her. Torches lining Lennon’s land illuminated the paths along the lake with an orange glow. It didn’t take long for me to spot a glow of blond hair that appeared almost silver in the night.
I breathed a massive sigh, wishing like hell I hadn’t wanted to find her as badly as I did. It only posed more questions that I had no answers to, and I hated that feeling. It was foreign to me. At least until tonight.
“Zoey,” I said as I jogged up to her where she stood at the edge of the lake, the ground squishing beneath my shoes. The stage Lennon had set up was about a hundred yards away, and farther than that was the intense crate of fireworks he’d brought in for the party. The spot Zoey had picked was much more secluded, so much so I could barely hear the sounds of the party that had blared back at the house. “I’ve been looking for you.”
She turned to glance at me, her arms crossed over her chest. “You found me. Again.”
“Well,” I said, sighing. “I need to apologize to you…again.”
She huffed out a laugh, returning her focus to the lake. “Why bother?”
“Because,” I said, moving to stand in front of her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She arched her head to look me in the eye. “You didn’t.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Then you’re just out here for…?”
“Needed some space.”
“From me.” I took a few steps away from her, understanding. I wouldn’t stick around where I wasn’t wanted, and at least she knew I was sorry. “Okay, I’ll go.” I walked past her toward the house, but she reached out and caught my wrist to stop me.
“Wait,” she said, and I returned to the spot in front of her. She dropped my wrist. “You don’t have to go.”
I rubbed my palms over my face. The whole night was giving me whiplash. “Look,” I said, meeting her eyes. “I honestly didn’t mean what I said earlier in a bad way. I meant it as a compliment.”
“Ha!” she barked. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head.
“Everyone says that crap about me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Everyone.” She softened her voice. “Do you know how old it gets? Having people judge you just because of who your father is? Who your family is? People don’t see me when they glance at me in the halls or spot me in town, they see my family’s company. They don’t see the way I bust my ass for every single thing I’ve earned the last four years, they see my father’s bank account.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve walked in on girls saying snide things about me—things like I wouldn’t be top of my class if my father hadn’t dumped donations into the school, or the only reason I’m in charge of so many charities was for PR for the family business. That I never cared about anything except getting ahead…by any means necessary.” The last few words brought her up short, and she clenched her eyes together.
“Hey,” I said, boldly reaching out to cup her cheek. I needed her to look at me. To see the sincerity in my eyes. “I don’t think that.”
“Yes, you do.” She shook her head. “You thought I lied to you on purpose. That I went for the scholarship just to take it away from you.”
“No. I was mixed up. This morning…” I stopped myself before I spilled my guts to her. “I don’t.” I stepped closer, until only an inch of space separated us. “I’ve watched you operate for years, Zoey. I know how your mind functions. I know you stay up late, get up early, and push yourself to the edge every single day because you know that it’ll all amount to something incredibly worth it at the end. Sure, having your father’s last name definitely doesn’t hurt your efforts, but I know you never drop it. Hell, I know the reason you were awarded the scholarship over me was because the app you created—on your own time—was better than mine.”
It was true. She’d won fair and square.
Her green eyes flashed in the soft glow of the torch near us, glistening with unshed tears. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you totally hate me, or if you understand me better than anyone else ever has.”
Finally, an easy answer. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. We’re the same.” I shrugged. “Well, almost. I don’t have a full-ride to Stanford, and my family business is burgers, not billions, but…where it counts, we’re the same.”
The reality of that fact hit me like a punch in the chest. Holy hell. I really had been wasting my time fighting her for the last decade instead of connecting with her. She probably was the only woman on the planet who would tolerate my addiction to work, to studying, to bettering myself. And now that I realized that…I didn’t want to waste one more second fighting with her.
Well, maybe a few seconds. She’s sexy as hell when she’s mad.
Allowing myself to admit the attraction was like a rush all on its own, but the smile that shaped Zoey’s full lips? That was like a drug, and I immediately wanted to make her smile as often as possible.
Stepping outside my comfort zone, might as well dive in head first.
“I never knew you thought that,” she said.
“I didn’t either.” I chuckled. “Not until recently, anyway.”
Something hard crossed her eyes, and she jerked her gaze away from me.
What’d I say?
After she’d been silent just past the awkward limit, I opened my mouth, totally baffled. “All right, then.” I moved to leave once again. It was clear she still needed her space, and I couldn’t bear the silence a second longer. “I’m going to grab another coffee. Will I see you in there?” I asked, hating how much I could hear the desperation in my voice. It was unavoidable. She was a surprise. A shocking new plot twist in the story of my life. I couldn’t help but want to see how it ended.
A loud pop crackled in the sky. She spun around to face me. The greens in her eyes glittered the reflection of the firework that sparked way above our heads.
“Look out!” she gasped, pointing behind me as she squinted like she was bracing for impact. I barely moved to glance behind me before something black and furry and heavy plowed straight through my legs and knocked my ass to the ground. Zoey landed on her back next to me two seconds later, the air whooshing out of her lungs.
I rolled over, clutching my side as I slid around in the slick earth to check on her. “Are you all right?”
“No.” She huffed as I slipped my hand behind her head to help her sit up. She gazed down at the mud we sat in. “Gross.”
I eyed Hendrix, who splashed in the water at the edge of the lake. He dipped his nose in the water over and over again like he was trying to sniff beneath it. I rolled my eyes at him.
“Thanks a lot, Hendrix!” I yelled.
He darted his gaze to me for a moment before continuing his hunt.
“Eww,” Zoey said, swiping at the mud caked in her hair. There was a large streak across her face, too.
I choked on a laugh. “Yeah, that looks pretty gross,” I teased.
She gaped at me before she glared. “Really?” She huffed and shoved at my chest with her dirt-covered fingers.
I gasped. “Hey!” I gave her a warning look. “You don’t want to start a war with me.”
She slowly gathering herself to stand. “We’re already at war,” she said and lightly tapped my cheek. “This is just a battle.”
The cold mud stuck to my skin, and I shook my head as I tried to swipe it off.
“If you say so,” I said and leaped to my feet. I grabbed a handful of mud and reached to plop it on her back, but she took off in a dead sprint. Girl was fast, but I gained momentum and caught up with her, tossing the crud at her and missing her by an inch.
“Ha!” She laughed, her breaths coming in fast gasps. “Missed me!”
“I meant to!”
She whirled to face me, as much distance separating us as a game of cornhole. We faced off, the sound of fireworks popping in the sky above us. “Please.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not exactly on the varsity baseball team.”
My jaw dropped at her taunting, and I knelt down to grab another handful of the squelching ground beneath us. “And you’re no head cheerleader,” I teased, quickly throwing the mess at her and pelting her in the leg. Yeah, I’d focused more on books than organized sports. But that didn’t mean I was horrible at throwing a ball around.
“Gah!” She stomped her foot. “Thank God for that,” she added.
“Exactly,” I said as a dirt clod flew a centimeter past my face. “Whoa. Aiming at my face? Not cool!” I ran toward her, but she took off again.
“All is fair in war!” she called over her shoulder, but the effort it took to say the jab made her lose her footing and she stumbled, nearly falling to the ground again. She caught herself, but it slowed her down.
I skidded to a stop by her side, wrapping my arms around her hips and tossing her over my shoulder. “What was that?”
“Put me down!” she said, giggling.
“No, before. You said all was fair, right?” I teased, spinning her around.
“You’re going to make me sick!” Her words were barely understandable through her laughter, and the sound was sweeter than my favorite song—
I stopped and shifted her so I could set her on her feet.
I forced out a laugh as we stood there, catching our breath, our chests rising and falling at the same pace.
I knew better. Knew. But the question came out anyway.
“What about love?” I asked.
Her eyes flew wide. “What?”
“Isn’t love supposed to be in that quote somewhere?” I tried to pull it from memory, but the roadmaps in my mind were fuzzy and harder to navigate than usual.
I blamed Zoey and the beer.
“Oh,” she said, sighing. “Yeah.” She popped her hands on her hips. “All is fair in love and war.” She shrugged. “I think that is how it goes.”
I nodded, knowing that sounded familiar. “Do you believe it?”
“Believe what?” she asked.
I wiped my dirt-caked fingers on my jeans. “That love and war are inseparable? And that being in love means anything goes?”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “I haven’t ever really thought about it.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “Have you?”
“Sure,” I said. “Probably my dad’s fault.” I smiled at the memory that fleshed out clearly in my head. “He’s a romantic and was madly in love with my mother when she was alive.” I swallowed hard. “I swear she would forgive him like that.” I snapped my fingers. “For anything he ever did wrong. It didn’t happen often, but he could screw up and all it would take was a few words and she’d be in his arms again.” A pang pinched my chest, though it wasn’t unbearable. “I don’t understand it, but I know it’s possible. They had a love that definitely fit the quote. They could fight and still joke. Could get frustrated and yet still be affectionate. Those are the kinds of memories that have stayed the sharpest.”
Zoey touched the back of my hand. “I didn’t know that about them.”
I smiled, but she took a step away from me, like touching me seared her. “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t talk about it much.”
“I get that,” she said. “My parents love each other,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know that. Not because they show it…more like it’s just a fact. Some piece of knowledge that was embedded in my head since birth. They don’t argue, though. They are always, annoyingly, on the same page.”
“Guess that’s what it takes to run a huge corporation together?” I asked.
“I suppose,” She said. “Either that or they just don’t have the energy to fight over anything.”
“It is exhausting,” I said, nudging her. “I wanted to sleep for an entire week after we went head-to-head for the science fair in eighth grade.”
She snorted. “Me, too.”
“What?” I scoffed. “You won!”
“So?” She tilted her head. “You think it was easy?”
“You sure as hell make it look easy.”
“Good.” Her lips parted open, but she shook her head. “It wasn’t. It isn’t.” She sighed. “Nothing is easy when it comes to you.”
“Ouch!” I grabbed the center of my chest again, dramatically acting out the internal pain she continued to inflict. “Never one to pull any punches.”
“I keep telling you that.” The joking had left her completely, leaving nothing but eyes as hard as emeralds.
“Like I said before, I know better.” I stepped close enough to her to feel the heat coming off her body. “And you should know that even though you’ve beaten me hundreds of different ways, I’m always right.”
“How does that happen?”
“It’s a gift.”
“No.” She laughed. “That makes no sense. If you were always right, I’d never win.”
“Maybe I’ve let you win all these years? Ever think about that?” I teased.
“No,” she said again, the corners of her lips turning down. “If that were the truth, you wouldn’t have snapped this morning. If it were true, I wouldn’t have had the ability to hurt you so much that you…” She stopped herself short and shrugged.
I tipped her chin up. “This morning wasn’t entirely about you,” I said, the reasoning behind my lapse in judgment on the tip of my tongue. I swallowed the excuse down. “I know that doesn’t make sense, either, but it’s true. You need to know that. I’m sorry.”
She clenched her eyes shut. “You don’t have to keep saying that just because you feel bad.”
I dropped my hand. “I’m not saying it to make myself feel better.” I stepped away from her. How could she think that after the fun we’d had tonight? Did she think I’d stick around after I apologized if I wasn’t truly sorry?
“Okay,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
The air grew thick around us, the sounds of the party in the distance filling the awkward bubble we’d walked into.
“I still can’t believe you’d rather read minds than fly.” Zoey finally broke the silence and the air rushed out of my lungs faster than when Hendrix had toppled me over.
“Seriously?” I furrowed my brow, thinking back to the would you rather…? question. “You’d become a wealth of knowledge.”
“Yeah, other people’s knowledge. Their most intimate secrets.” She shuddered. “No thanks.” She tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “I’d rather fly anywhere I wanted at a moment’s notice.”
“Secrets I can handle,” I said. “Having nothing separating me from the ground at thirty-thousand feet? That is something I can live without.”
“You wouldn’t have to fly that high.” She rolled her eyes upward like she was trying to calculate the ideal height for human flight. I smiled at the way her brain worked, loving that she liked to crunch numbers and probabilities like I did.
“I think you like fighting with me,” I said, and she snapped her eyes to mine.
“No, I don’t.”
“You do,” I said. “That’s why you’ve kept it up all these years. And that’s why you tried to answer opposite of me in the game.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. The insane roller coaster I was on tonight definitely had my head spinning, but I’d boarded the ride and was trying like hell to enjoy it. “Gives me a vacay from being right all the time.”
She rolled her eyes. “That must be exhausting.”
“Almost as exhausting as trying to top you.”
“Admit it,” she said. “You love the challenge as much as me.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“Then what are we talking about?”
I laughed. “I have no idea.”
Her shoulders dropped. “That’s in the past now.”
She had no idea how right she was.
“Maybe we’ll find a way to go out for something at Stanford?” she asked, hopeful. “Even if it’s small, like one of your bets. Just to keep the tradition of Branch’s rightful home running.”
I glanced at the ground, lightly kicking at the mud beneath my shoes. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure. That could be fun.”
“What’s up?” she asked, stepping into my line of sight so I had to look at her. “Every time I bring up Stanford, you get dark. Is it the scholarship?”
The truth rang in my head, but I shook it out. “You deserve that scholarship. I said that already.”
“I know you did, but…”
I cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to finish.
“Never mind. I should just stop talking about Stanford. Not really good form when we were so close in the running for it.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I lied. It was a big deal, but not in the way she thought. It wouldn’t have been nearly as painful if Dad hadn’t dropped the bomb on me about the shop this morning. There were too many emotions tied up in all that had happened today, and maybe that was why I was clinging to the small blips of levity Zoey’s company provided.
“You’re a mess,” Zoey said, and I was happy for the change of subject. She popped up on her tiptoes, raked her fingers through my hair, and rubbed at the dirt smeared on her thumb.
“So are you.”
Hendrix padded up to us, his paws kicking up more of the dirt, and he skidded to a stop at our feet. A bright yellow tennis ball filled his mouth. It was soaking wet.
“Crazy animal.” I took the ball from him and threw it toward the house. I glanced back down at Zoey. “Come on,” I said, motioning behind me. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”
Zoey snorted as we made the walk in a more comfortable silence.
As I led us into the house to search for a safe bathroom, someone tugged on Zoey’s arm, stopping us. “Omigod, Zoey you won’t believe what Gor—” The girl’s eyes widened when I turned around to see who had grabbed her. She had her cell in her free hand, the huge cracked screen filled with a picture of tons of kids crowded together, obviously another party.
Zoey had frozen, gaping at the girl.
Tiffany, I think. From that one time I took art back in Freshman year.
Confusion furrowed Tiffany’s brow. “I thought you were—”
Zoey busted out the most awfully fake laugh, cutting Tiffany off as she pointed at me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, utterly confused.
“Nothing!” Zoey said, laughing again and shaking her head at Tiffany. “Tiff, we’ll totes catch up later, okay?”
Tiffany continued to stare at me, dumbfounded for a few seconds before she threw up the universal “okay” signal with her fingers. “Got it. Have fun!” She winked twice as Zoey practically shoved me down the hallway to a back bathroom off the kitchen.
Sometimes I forgot how much money Lennon’s mom had, and how differently he lived from the rest of us. Though his dad’s place was much closer to mine—smaller, more practical—so I suppose he lived both lives.
“What was that about?” I asked when Zoey had stopped in front of the bathroom.
“Nothing,” she said. “Girl stuff. Don’t worry about it.”
It was hard not to, with the panicked look in her eyes, but I let it slide. Girl stuff was not my forte.
Zoey threw the door open, but I didn’t follow her inside, instead hanging back in the entryway. She laughed at herself in the mirror, then cast me a sideways glance. “I’m not going to bite you.”
I stepped into the room, playfully glaring at her as I closed the door behind me. “You do look like a swamp monster.”
Her jaw dropped and she swatted at my chest. “And you’re a creature straight out of a werewolf novel.”
I mock-growled at her, which only made her laugh harder. “Wait,” I said. “Did you just call me hot?”
“What?” she blurted. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf…aren’t all the wolves on those shows typically hot?”
Her eyes popped. “You watch the Vampire Diaries?”
“Hell no.” I scoffed. “My dad has to play that stuff on a constant loop at the shop because it’s what the girls want in the background while they eat.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, eyeing me before she turned toward the sink and switched the faucet on. “I’m betting you’re a closet vampire lover. It’s okay. It happens to the best of us.”
“Please,” I said, scooching in close to her so I could wet a cloth I pulled off a towel rack behind me. I glanced at myself in the mirror and swiped the cloth over my hair, ridding it of dirt. Another couple of strokes and my face was clean, too. My jeans, well, they would have to suffer the rest of the night. “I barely have time to sit down, let alone binge-watch anything,” I continued, wringing the rag out until the water ran clean from it. I passed it to her, and our fingers touched as she took it from me.
“Me, either,” she said, her voice suddenly breathless. “I wish I could. Bray gives me a hard time about it.” She swiped at the dirt on her cheeks. “But I can’t keep up with her.”
“Who could?” Bray had the unique ability to keep track of all the characters, relationships, and timelines of so many different shows. Fynn did, too. It was like an art. Something they enjoyed doing together, but it sounded downright exhausting to me.
“Someday,” Zoey said, plopping the rag in the sink and switching the water off, “I’m totally going to take a week off from life and find out what I’ve been missing.”
I grinned. I doubted that would ever happen. The girl couldn’t sit still for long. We had that in common, too. “If that ever happens, please be sure to call me. I might just have to join you.”
“You think I won’t?”
I leaned against the sink, facing her. “I think hell has a closer chance of freezing over than you not studying, working, or planning anything for an entire week.”
Her lips parted open like she wanted to argue, but she relented, laughing. “Whatever. I will call you, and you’ll have to trash all your plans to keep your word.”
I raised my hand like a good boy scout. “Promise. I’ll gladly accept that challenge. If you ever do.”
She clucked her tongue at my tone, but the smile on her lips was genuine.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you remember that time freshman year we both signed up to host the lock-in for the Boys & Girls club?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said from where she stood across from me. “It was chaotic.”
I smiled to myself.
The night was supposed to be a fun volunteer project, one where we organized games and activities for the Boys & Girls club members that related to the relative topics they currently studied. We also threw in a few games that were pure—non-study—fun, like shuffleboard for candy prizes.
Zoey and I had divided up the activities, splitting the room down the middle. She’d been in charge of her activities and I mine. The idea had been to have half the work, and be able to dedicate more time to each section.
Except that night, nothing went according to plan. Some kids loved certain games while others hated them. The more popular activities—the ones with the best prizes or biggest laugh factor, like charades—were overcrowded quickly. And the more tired the kids got, the shorter their tempers became.
We’d set up in the gym, and I remember glancing over the heads of dozens of kids running rampant. Each one had sprinted from station to station in a speed I still to this day think was supernatural. I’d locked eyes with Zoey, who’d been frantically trying to calm a boy down who thought another boy had pushed him on purpose when it was his turn at shuffleboard.
Within the chaos—the sounds of laughter and arguing and excitement bouncing off the walls made it hard to think straight—I looked at her and I’d somehow known we’d figure it out…together.
In that moment we weren’t opposing each other. We were teammates on the same crazy sinking ship. The second we crossed the line we’d split down the middle of the room and put our heads together, the night had become more manageable. We were able to make a seamless transition from the games, to the reading selection, to finally, the movie at the end of the night. It had only played for a few minutes before more than half the room had fallen asleep in their sleeping bags—despite each one of them saying they’d make it through the entire lock-in without sleeping.
As the room had quieted for the first time in hours, Zoey sank into a chair next to me. We were in the middle of idle chitchat when she’d nodded off. I didn’t bother waking her, simply tossed my hoodie around her shoulders and took over to watch the rest of the night.
“What made you think of that?” she asked, drawing me out of the memory.
I laughed. “I think it was the first time I ever realized how well we worked together,” I said. “But I didn’t know for sure until tonight.”
“I did,” she said. “If we hadn’t found common ground that night those kids would’ve overrun us for sure.” She chuckled.
“I know,” I said. “I think I was always so wrapped up in trying to be as good as you, or a shade better, that I didn’t realize.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she snapped, and I couldn’t help but notice the frustration in her tone.
“Isn’t it?” I asked, peering down at her.
“It’s in the past, Gordon,” she said, waving me off. “Don’t let it bother you.”
“I’m not,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair. “Wait, that’s not entirely true.” My head was spinning, the whole night—the whole damn day—surging and twisting questions I never entertained the answers to. “It is bothering me,” I admitted. “The idea that all these years we were at each other’s throats when we could’ve been…”
“Could’ve been what?” she asked when I hadn’t finished.
“Friends,” I said. “I think we would’ve been really good friends.” Or maybe even more than that. The hope pulsing in my gut wished to be more than that, now. And I couldn’t deny it, even though our competitive history suggested I should. Even though the pending meeting with her father screamed I should lock my jaw and head home right this second. Making a move on his daughter? That would likely be grounds for him to ignore my entire proposal. Quite possibly burn the shop to the ground on principle, too.
But tonight had made so many things clear, and I didn’t have a clue what to do about any of it.
She smiled. “Like Braylen and Fynn?” Her eyes flashed wide and red flushed her cheeks. “I mean, not exactly like them. Because they…well, she…”
Zoey stumbled over her words, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. Maybe we weren’t that far off in our lines of thought. I knew she saw what Bray and Fynn couldn’t see—that they were perfect for each other. Did that mean she thought in a different life we could’ve been, too?
“I think so,” I said, stepping closer to her. “Why not?”
A stuttered breath escaped her lips. “Because,” she said. “We…we’re not friends. We’ve never been friends. We’ve always been…”
“Rivals?”
“Enemies.”
I flinched at the word. “But that’s over, now, right? School is done. The internship decision is out of our hands. There’s nothing left for us to fight about.”
She darted her gaze to the floor, picking at the polish on her thumbnail.
A charge of electricity crackled in the air between us. Something tangible and real and new. My heart raced, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking down to her lips.
Kissing her would never end well. Even if she liked it, her dad would kill me if he found out. And if she didn’t like it? Forget torching our shop. He’d find new ways to make my life awful.
But the powerful swirling in my heart had no sense of logic. It knew only what I wanted. And what I wanted was to taste Zoey’s lips.
I gauged her reaction as I shifted to lean closer to her, never losing her eyes as I inched my face toward hers. If ever there was a moment to take the risk and kiss Zoey, now was that time. I could feel it in my bones.
She shifted her head up to meet mine, nodding slightly as she did.
The permission only made my heart race harder.
Only a breath separated us.
Then the room was engulfed in darkness.
The music that had been playing in the speakers throughout the house died.
We both jolted at the shock, the sounds of gasping partygoers echoing outside the closed bathroom door. Zoey shuffled in front of me, immediately digging out her cell phone and lighting up the screen. My eyes drew to the light, and I accidentally read a preview of a text someone had sent her.
“Whoa,” I said, squinting to make sure I’d seen that clearly. “Is someone texting you about me?” I’d seen my name in the text, but she’d turned her phone around before I could read the rest.
Zoey forced out a laugh, shook her head, and pocketed the cell, submerging us in darkness again.
“What—” I began, but Zoey clutched both sides of my face, successfully cutting off my words. She jerked me downward, her mouth colliding with mine in an intense, hungry, almost angry way.
And I absolutely effing loved it.