Page 20 of Someday Not Soon

“How’d it turn out?” she asks, leaning across the center divide to peek over my shoulder. When she sees the picture—beach hair, no makeup, and in my gigantic sweater—she laughs. “Oh my god. You should’ve told me I look horrible.”

“El, you look gorgeous.”

She rolls her eyes, not believing me. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know I’m average at best.”

I look up at her, making sure she hears me perfectly clearly. “I’m not lying. I love you like this.”

She stares back for a moment, and something unspoken passes between us. A mutual understanding that this little friendship we started at the beginning of summer has now evolved into an entirely new connection.Something better.

Nudging me with her elbow, she quietly asks, “Take one with me?”

I spin the camera around, pointing it in our direction. Closing the space between us, she lies her head on my shoulder and scrunches her face into the world’s most adorable smile.

Snap.

The flash blinds us, as a picture spits out the top of the camera.

“One more?” I ask, my voice hoarse and not sounding like my own.

She nods, looking at me and then back up to the camera. The sight of her takes my breath away. Deep brown waves cascade over her shoulders, round hazel eyes filled with a silent wonder, and cheekbones that catch the golden sunlight. If only she knew what kind of chokehold she has me in. The miles I’d drive, and cliffs I’d jump, so long as it meant I got to be with her.

In that very moment, any sense of inhibition snaps. Internally I decidefuck it, take the damn leap.I lean in, kissing her cheek as I take the next picture. While it’s casual, it’s still a physical line we’ve always tiptoed around. I feel her freeze when my lips brush her skin, surprised that I’m doing something like this. My blood runs cold that I’ve fucked up our entire friendship.

Rushing to make amends for making her feel uncomfortable, I say, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

When she turns to me, her eyes are fixated on my lips. And before I can get my next word out, she crosses overthe threshold of the arm rest, and closes the distance—her mouth crashing into mine.

In that instant, I know I’m a ruined man. The feel of her lips, the needy press of her chest, my fingers tangling in her hair, and the little breathy exhales that escape her—every single detail is etched into my brain, cementing itself and rewriting my DNA as if it’s now part of my being.

Ella Thatcher may think she’s ordinary, but to me, she’s remarkable.

Chapter Eleven

Jude

Present

All damn weekendI’ve watched Levi pull out every stop to try and win Ella over. Acting a damn fool to humor her and attempt to draw her out of her shell. Pulling out her chair, and bringing her a cup of overly sweet coffee that I know she’ll hate. Pasting on his annoyingly charming frat boy smile that normally gets him laid.

If I liked him as a person and wasn’t insanely jealous, I’d offer to help him out. Maybe tell him her favorite flower, or band, or some way to help the guy connect with her. The problem is that Ididknow her like that. Ten years later, I’m not so sure I know the answers to those questions anymore. Things change. People change, and what they like and want evolves. Being blunt with myself, I need to face the fact that I may no longer know her at all anymore. And that thought kills me because it’s what I’veprided myself on for years. The fact that even though we didn’t get the chance to take our relationship to the test—at least I knew her better than anyone else. It made me special. And it made our connection different. Like I had those final pieces of her to hold onto.

That dull irritation morphs into full-on annoyance as the day wears on. Every time I try to talk with her, there’s Levi butting his way in. I make a comment to her about a new movie coming out, and then he’s there suggesting he take her to see it. I offer to help hang the bright pink and gold bachelorette banner, but here he comes with his little step stool.

Ella and I exchange a look every time. Everyone except for Levi is fully aware that he’s interrupting. But I back off, letting him go at it, so long as she doesn’t seem to mind. If she looked uncomfortable like she did yesterday, I’d refuse to leave. Now, it’s as if she’s come to terms with something about him. Like she’s embraced being the center of his attention and is possibly open to something more between them. The assumption makes my stomach sour.

By mid-afternoon, Levi and most of the house have gone back to the beach to play volleyball. I opted to stay behind, in order to finish my online continuation course and review case studies while the house was quiet. Two hours and a headache later, I finally exit my room, in desperate need of a break.

When I wander into the uppermost family room, I find my sister, Delaney, and Ella lounging on the upscale furniture, chatting over cups of coffee andchocolate chip cookies the size of my head. My sister spots me instantly and grins. “Well, well, look who finally decided to emerge from their cave.” She pats the spot beside her on the couch, conveniently right next to Ella.

As I sit down, scooting into the space they’ve made for me, I can’t help but notice the way Ella immediately tenses up. It wasn’t like this ten years ago. Back then, I was one of the few people who put her at ease. Now, it seems I have the opposite effect on her, and it cuts deeper than I’d like to admit.

My sister shoves a cookie into my hand. “You need to stop working and relax. We’re at the beach, for chrissakes.”

“It’s not work, it was reading,” I clarify.

With a mouthful of cookie, she mumbles, “Let me guess. You were reading case studies.”

“It’s technically still reading,” I reply, shrugging her off.

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