frames between us. I loved Elliot’s glasses, but the thought of being so close to him without them did warm, weird things to my stomach. It made him feel somehow undressed in my head.
“What do you want for Christmas?” he asked.
I jumped slightly, startled. I was pretty sure I looked exactly like someone looks when they’re caught staring at their best friend with less than innocent thoughts. We hadn’t kissed again.
But I really wanted to.
His question echoed in my head. “Christmas?”
Dark eyebrows pulled together, serious. “Yeah. Christmas.”
I tried to cover. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about all this time?”
“No.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.
“I don’t really know,” I told him. “Any particular reason you’re asking me this in September?”
Elliot rolled to his side to face me, his head propped in his hand. “I’d just like to get you something nice. Something you want.”
I put my book down and rolled to face him, too. “You don’t have to get me anything, Ell.”
He made a frustrated sound and sat up. Pushing up off the carpet, he moved to stand. I reached out, wrapping my hand around his wrist. The light, lusty mood between us had been only on my end, apparently.
“Are you mad about something?”
Elliot and I didn’t fight, really, and the idea that something between us was off tilted my internal balance, making me feel immediately anxious. I could feel his pulse like a steady drum beneath his skin.
“Do you think about me when you’re back there?” His words came out sharp, exhaled roughly.
It took me a second to process what he meant. When I was back home. Away from him. “Of course I do.”
“When?”
“All the time. You’re my best friend.”
“Your best friend,” he repeated.
My heart dipped low in my chest, almost painfully. “Well, you’re more, too. You’re my best everything.”
“You kissed me this summer and then acted like nothing happened.”
This came at me like a blade to my lungs. I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands. It had happened like that. After I kissed him in his kitchen, I’d made everything go back to how it was: reading on the roof in the morning, lunch in the shade, swimming in the river. I’d felt his eyes on me, the shaking restraint of his hands. I remembered how warm his lips had been, and the way I felt like a lit fuse when he growled into my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Why are you sorry?” he asked carefully, crouching down beside me. “Are you sorry because you didn’t like kissing me?”
I felt my hands flush cold, looking at him in shock. “Did it feel like I didn’t like it?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging helplessly. “It felt like you liked it. A lot. And I did, too. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Mace, and then you just . . .” He scowled at me, face tight. “You got weird.”
My thoughts got all tangled—the memory of Emma beside him in the driveway and the panic I always felt when I imagined him leaving my life for good. “I mean, there’s Emma—”
“Fuck Emma,” he said, voice rough, and it surprised me so much that I leaned back on my hands, tilting away from him.
Elliot looked immediately remorseful and reached to move a strand of hair out of my face. “Seriously, Mace. There’s nothing going on with me and Emma. Is that really why you don’t want to talk about what happened with us in the kitchen?”
“I think it’s also that it scares me to think of messing this up.” Looking down, I added, “I’ve never had a boyfriend—or anything. You’re, like, the only person other than Dad who really matters to me, and I’m honestly not sure I could handle it if I didn’t have you in my life.”
When I closed my eyes at night, the only thing I could see was Elliot. Most nights I was desperate to call him just before I fell asleep, so I could hear his voice. I hated to think beyond the next weekend, because I wasn’t sure how our futures were going to align. I imagined Elliot going away to Harvard, and me going somewhere in California, and we’d slowly turn into vague acquaintances. The idea was repellent.
When I met his eyes again, I noticed the hard line of his mouth had softened. He sat down in front of me, his knees touching mine.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mace.” He picked up my hand. “I need you the same