Page 52 of Just Don't Call Me Yours

I nod.

“When?”

I could tell her everything she wants to know, but I want to save at least a shred of my dignity. “Why do you care? You’re not interested.”

“I never said that.”

“You’re right. You never said anything,” I say with a laugh.

She frowns, biting her bottom lip, and I’m still close enough to see that damn freckle. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I didn’t know—I thought maybe you were trying to . . .” Her voice trails off.

“What?” I ask. She shrugs, but I prompt her again. “What did you think I was trying to do?”

Some of her usual confidence returns when she says, “I figured you’d be a jerk and use it against me in a week.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s probably better nothing happened since we live so close to each other.”

“Yeah.” I get out of bed. “Probably.”

“That’s it?” she asks, a crease forming between her brows.

I don’t know what else she wants from me. I’m the one who put myself out there, not her. She gets to walk away from this as the girl who was almost kissed, and I get left being the guy who wanted to kiss her. “That’s it,” I say with a nod.

She’s sitting on her hands as she stares down at the floor in front of her.

Let her be disappointed.

I take my shirt off and grab the clean one I packed, slipping it over my head. When my head emerges through the top, her eyes dart away.

She gets to her feet. “I’m going to see if Rae and Matt are awake.”

I can still hear Janet and Drew happily talking in the kitchen downstairs, so we don’t have to worry about them hearing anything. “Okay.” It’s all I can say because she’s already left the room by the time I go to look at her. I’m left alone. I’ve always been able to read her, but right now, I’m confused. Maybe I only ever saw things clearly because I was watching from a distance. Maybe this is what it’s like for guys when they get close to her, unable to see—like standing too close to the sun.

Maybe she’s giving me her clear-cut signs, but I’m too distracted by the way her lips quirk when she doesn’t want to laugh at something I’ve said.

Maybe I’m no better than the rest of them.

35

margot

Matt and Rae’s bedroom door is still closed, but I’m afraid to go back into the room with Jackson after what happened last night. If that means I have to stand here in the hallway with my back against the wall, listening to the sound of Matt’s parents talking about Grandma Lois and cooking breakfast downstairs, so be it.

He wanted to kiss me.

I still can’t wrap my head around Jackson thinking of me as more than . . . anything. For how long? Why? The questions are reeling in my head. As if last night wasn’t weird enough, I didn’t think he’d own up to it. He admitted wanting to kiss me simply, casually, like he would admit to being hungry.

Well, I guess he was hungry . . . for something.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I glance back at the door I came from before fixing my gaze on the wall in front of me. My heart pounds just thinking about what it was like having him close to me. The depth behind his eyes as he looked down at me. How he was so sincere at first, but then that devilish smirk came out. He knew how he was affecting me.

He knew I wanted him to kiss me. He had to.

“You’re just standing out here?”

I jolt at the sound of his voice. Looking down the hall, I see him walking toward me. “I was about to knock,” I say, but I’m pretty sure my cheeks betray me.

He lets out a breath of laughter, seeing through my bluff. “You don’t have to hide from me, Red. I can take the rejection. Just do me a favor and don’t write about this in your blog.”

My nails dig into my palms because he’s back to calling me Red again. “I wouldn’t—wait.” My hands unclench. “You read my blog?”

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