Page 34 of Someday Not Soon

The corner of her mouth lifts in the faintest, saddest smile. “I loved you too.”

Her confession sets every nerve in me alight, no different than if she told me she currently loves me. My heart is a total fool around her, unable to distinguish between the past and the present, forever caught in the thrill of her words.

Standing up a little taller, I let the knowledge soak in that our miscommunication made us miss out on so much good. That the whole fiasco could have been cleared up if I hadn’t been too chicken shit to talk it out. There’s nothing I can do about it now though besides clear a path forward.

“I want you in my life again, El.” I extend my hand out to her. “Friends?”

“Friends,” she replies, grasping my palm as we shake on it.

It’s the biggest lie I’ve ever told. Because I have no interest in beingfriendswith her.

I want to take care of her without trying to hide it. I want to wake up to her face every single morning. And most importantly, I want to love her with every part of my being, without any pretenses or barriers, for the rest of my life.

But friends is a start.

Chapter Eighteen

Ella

Past

Jude leavesfor school next week. It feels like an approaching storm on the horizon—visible and inevitable. Yet we refuse to prepare for it. We’ve been savoring our little bubble of make-believe, ignoring the reality of what’s to come. Losing him will feel like a part of me is missing, as if he’s become an inseparable piece of my life.

He seems too good to be true, like a dream man crafted to fit every wish I’ve ever had. He’s patient, caring, and wears his heart on his sleeve. In the afternoons, we take spontaneous drives, winding down side roads until we reach the ocean, where the waves stretch endlessly before us. We stroll along the beach, stopping to pick up every rock or shell that seems even remotely unique. In the evenings, we read dog-eared novels over dinner, side-by-side in comfortable silence, swapping books as soon as we’ve turned the last page. These ordinary moments are vivid and full of life. Doing absolutely nothing, yet it feels like everything.

Suddenly, the front door slams open with such force that it crashes into the wall behind it.

“I’m home, bitches!” Madi yells, her voice echoing through the small house.

Half of me is thrilled that my best friend is back from road-tripping across the country with her boyfriend, while the other half is filled with dread. She has no idea that my relationship with her brother has shifted from friendship to something romantic. I plan to tell her everything later tonight, but springing the news on her the moment she walks through the door feels like the worst kind of welcome:Surprise, I’ve been naked in your brother’s bed for the last three weeks!

I run to the entryway to greet her, and she jumps into my arms. We hug each other so tightly it’s as if we’re trying to crush each other’s ribs. A pang of guilt hits me square in the gut. She’s the sister I never had, and now I wonder if she can smell the betrayal all over me.

From her backpack, she whips out a miniature Statue of Liberty and a NYC shirt, thrusting them into my arms with the kind of excitement that makes it feel like she’s handing me a piece of New York itself. She’s been out there, thinking of me and picking up cheesy souvenirs she knows I’ll love. Meanwhile, I’ve been betraying her trust back at home, leaving her in the dark about my relationship with her sibling.

As if summoned by my anxious thoughts, Jude walks in and takes a seat on the small loveseat next to me. He looks effortlessly sexy with his perfectly tousled hair and a tight navy blue shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders. Being around him instantly calms me, parting the clouds of disarray in my mind.

He fills up most of the loveseat with his broad shoulders, so it doesn’t seem odd that his arm is pressed against mine, while we listen to Madi recount her adventures of road-tripping from city to city, her hands gesturing wildly while she talks. Mid-story, her phone rings, and the strains of a classic Britney Spears song signal that it’s Delaney calling.

Seizing the moment, Jude leans in and whispers, “So, remember last night?”

I elbow him, trying to shut him up before his sister overhears, but it’s impossible to keep a straight face. I’m trying, and failing, to suppress a huge grin. Because of course I fucking remember the way he made me come—multiple times.

He leans in again, his smirk widening. “Did you like it? I mean,fourtimes, so I’m guessing yes.”

I bump him again, harder this time, which only makes him huff a silent laugh. “Don’t get a big head about it, but duh, yes. I liked it a lot, obviously,” I whisper.

Finally, I meet his gaze, his boyish smile radiates with a hint of smugness.

Pretending to be deeply fascinated by my freshly painted pink fingernails, I ask, “Did you? Like it?”

“Lovedit,” he replies immediately.

My stomach flips at the word love, and it hits me.

I think I love Jude.

Shit.

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