Page 74 of My Star-Crossed Summer

“That’s okay.” He gives me a tiny smile. “We can talk about anything. Or nothing. That part doesn’t matter.”

I nod, even though I’m not sure that’s true.

Chapter Twenty-Three

NOAH

Iran three miles this morning to get Victoria off my mind—specifically, the look of panic on her face last night when I told her how I felt about her.

It didn’t work.

Now my muscles are screaming, I’m a sweaty mess, and my brain still helpfully reminds me approximately every three minutes that Vic is about to leave me.

Again. This time for a job she told me doesn’t even make her happy.

It was impossible to sleep last night, because I had about a million things I wanted to say to her—but I didn’t know how to say them without sounding completely selfish. She’d told me she wanted to give this a try, to go on a real date together after camp was over. And the idea that she wanted to give us another chance had me feeling hopeful for the first time in ages. I thought she felt the same way I did, but now she’s throwing all of that away.

This hurts even more than it did the last time she left.

I need a shower before today’s morning meeting with Roxy, but I need coffee more. Caffeine soothes me, and right now I feel like crawling out of my skin. It’s ten minutes before seven andthe kitchen staff’s busy getting ready for breakfast. Taylor Swift’s blasting from a radio somewhere behind the kitchen doors and at least three people are singing along with her, woefully off-key but with admirable enthusiasm. When I slip over to the coffee station by the bank of windows and fill my mug, Victoria steps up next to me.

“Hi,” she says. “You get some rest?” She’s wearing a green tank top that draws my eye straight to her tanned sculpted shoulders and shorts that make her legs look a mile long. Her hair’s curlier, a little wild from the humidity, and all I can think is how soft it would feel against my chest.

“Not much,” I admit.

“Me either,” she says, taking in my sweaty running clothes with a flick of her gaze—but her eyes take a leisurely path back up to mine. “I need about a gallon of coffee before this day starts.”

“Same,” I tell her. “Departure day is always hectic. I need all the help I can get.”

She bites her lip, and for a moment I think she might say more about last night, about her plans. I want her to tell me that she’d rather explore what’s happening between us than settle for a job that sounds great on paper but takes the sparkle out of her eyes. I want her to tell me that she feels the same way I do, that she couldn’t sleep because she was thinking about us, and picturing all the things we can do together as soon as we’re off this mountain and not in charge of a group of tweens anymore.

I’ve given a lot of thought to that last one.

Instead, she takes a sip of coffee and flinches. “Ugh. Are we certain this isn’t siphoned straight from the pond out there?”

“As long as there’s caffeine, I don’t care much where it came from.”

She smirks at that, because she knows full well I’m picky about my coffee and brought a French press here with me. This was just the faster option.

She pours two more coffees into paper cups and hands one to me. “Roxy called a little while ago to say she and Sophie were ten minutes away and desperate for coffee that wasn’t made in a hospital.”

As I follow her outside, a buzzing fills the air between us. She shoves the extra coffee cup into the crook of her arm and pulls her phone from her pocket. Frowning, she stares at the screen, at the incoming call fromDiana.

Diana the real estate agent, with the career-changing job offer.

“You need to take that?” I ask.

She shakes her head as we approach the entrance to the main building, where Sophie and Roxy are waiting.

“I’ll call her back,” she says, silencing the call. That furrow is back in her brow as she shoves the phone back into her pocket.

“Look,” I tell her. “I know it’s not my decision and I don’t get a say, but I hate to see you settle when I know that you could soar.”

Victoria stares at me for what feels like a solid minute, and then her lip trembles.

“I have plenty of other selfish reasons why I think you shouldn’t go to Florida,” I go on. “But that’s the biggest one.” I sip my coffee, hoping that might force down the giant lump in my throat, but it doesn’t. This feels like one of those now-or-never moments and I don’t want to be anywhere close toneverwith Victoria.

I don’t know why it’s always been so hard to be truthful about the scope of my feelings for her—maybe because I was just afraid that the truth might reveal a gap too wide for us to navigate. I decide right then and there, lukewarm pond-watercoffee in hand, that I’m done holding things back from her. Life’s too short, and I’m done keeping my feelings buried so deep. She deserves the truth, even when it comes out messy. After all, the best parts of life are messy sometimes—we have to take ourselves apart and put ourselves back together to fully experience this life and all the beauty and the challenge that comes with it. And there’s no one else I’d rather rearrange myself with than Victoria.

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