Who knows how many more I’ll get?
I wish I could stretch each fleeting second I spend in her presence into an hour, a day, a lifetime. I wish I could hold her soft exhales in the palms of my hands, cradle their warmth against my chest to ward off the cold realities that have taken up residence inside my heart.
Her effortless beauty grabs me by the throat. That smart-talking mouth, currently slack with sleep. Those ridiculous dimples, dents of joy in rosy cheeks. I study her intently. Every freckle, every eyelash. Every perceived flaw she sees when she looks in the mirror.
I want to run my fingertips over them. To trace her imperfections with my hands until she realizes they were never imperfections at all.
God, I need to kiss her.
It’s an impulse I’ve had forever. One I’ve spent a lifetime tamping down, trying to ignore. Unsuccessfully, as it turns out.
I can’t help it. Since the moment I first learned what kissing was, I’ve wanted to do it with Jo. I’ve dreamed about it. Ached for it. Just once, I want to feel the press of her mouth on mine. To lose myself in the riptide of her lips until I’m lost at sea, too far out to ever turn back.
Her blue eyes blink open without warning.
Shit.
I barely have time to wipe the longing look off my face, to reassemble my features into an indifferent mask before she sits up and spots me standing there, ten feet away.
“You.” She starts, eyes widening. “What are you doing here?”
I swallow roughly. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Clearly.” She climbs to her feet, brushing sea-salt off her bare legs. Her dark blue pajama set perfectly matches the color of the cove surrounding us. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t be standing there, would you?”
I don’t react; I don’t say a word in my own defense.
Unfortunately, my silence seems to piss her off even more, judging by the way her brows pinch together. “I saw Jax the other night,” she says, an accusation in her voice. I didn’t even know he was out.”
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I should’ve told you.”
She takes a step toward me. Her whole frame is shaking — not with cold, but with fury. “No. You don’t owe me anything. We aren’t even friends. We’renothing. Right?”
My mouth opens. “Jo—”
“I heard you,” she snarls. “The other night. I heard exactly what you said to Jaxon.I tolerate her for exactly one reason: her parents paid my tuition.” She steps even closer. “As soon as I walk across that graduation stage, I plan to keep on walking, right out of her life.” Another step. We’re only a pace apart, now. “Jo Valentine means nothing to me.”
The blood drains from my face. “Jo—”
“Don’t bother.” Her mouth twists. “I don’t need to hear whatever excuse you’re going to come up with to justify your behavior. I don’t want to listen to whatever lie you’ll use to make me feel better about this.”
“But—”
“No!No. Don’t you understand? I don’t care anymore, Archer. I can’t. I don’t have it in me. For weeks, I’ve done everything I can think of to reach you, to make things better between us…” She blinks rapidly, fighting back tears. “Silly me for thinking we were ever something worth fixing.“
I flinch.
She takes a shaky breath. “So I’m done now. Done caring. Done trying. Just…done.” There’s a loaded pause, stretching in the space between us. “But before I go, I need you to tell me one thing. I think you owe me that much.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure she can hear it. Still, my voice comes out remarkably level. “What is it?”
“If you were truly just pretending to be my friend for all this time… Why did you have to do it so damn convincingly?” Her voice cracks, and I feel my heart crack right along with it. “Why did you let me believe it was real for all this time?”
Right now, even if I had an answer for her, I wouldn’t be able to give it. My throat is so blocked with emotion, speaking is impossible.
Her eyes hold mine for a small forever. They are infinitely blue, unfathomably blue. The kind of blue that can’t be captured. It’s the same hue you see at the point where sea meets sky on a distant horizon.
Forever out of reach.