Page 71 of Unforgettable

He continues tapping at his phone in silence, with the other hand fiddling with the loose stitching on my pants.

“Hello. Earth to Oz.”

He looks over at me but struggles to meet my eyes. “I don’t know… there’s still a chance that nobody gives a shit, and this could all blow up in my face. And I’ll truly be the disappointment my parents think I am.”

The vulnerability in his voice cuts me deep. Regardless of the blog’s success, he could never be a disappointment. And I wish he knew that.

I slide my feet off his lap and bring my knees to my chest.

“Why’d you move?” He reaches for my legs, but I push his hand away.

“Listen to me,” I say seriously. “What is it about twenty thousand followers and counting that makes you think people don’t want more from you? Or that this won’t take off?”

“Look.” He throws his cell to the side, grabs my leg, and drags me to him. “You’re sexy as hell when you’re serious. So fucking sexy. And I get it, you want what’s best for me. Which, for the record, is also sexy.” He pulls me closer and situates me astride him, his hands sliding up my shirt. His eyes are a whirlpool of desire and reverence. “I’m so grateful for you.”

I rub a hand over my aching chest. “You can’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asks hoarsely.

Like you’re falling in love with me.

“We keep ending up with me sitting on top of you,” I say, trying to climb off of him. “This goes against our no touching rule.”

Oz holds on to my waist, making it impossible for me to move, his eyes still locked on mine. “Yourno touching rule,” he says firmly.

“What?”

“It’s your no touching rule,” he repeats. “I would touch you all the time, if you let me.”

“Oz,” I breathe out. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Come on, Reeve,” he says gently. “We’re not fooling anyone.”

“And that’s why we’re supposed to be…” My hands flail between us. “Not touching.”

Determined, I push at his chest and untangle myself from his body, standing and putting some distance between us. “If we can’t keep it ‘friendly,’ I’ll go home.”

The words come out a little too harsh and are very much like an ultimatum. One I had no intention of issuing, but it’s one I still don’t take back. His face blanches as if I’ve slapped him, and I feel his shock and hurt ricochet in my chest.

“You can go home if you want.” The dejection in his voice is unmissable. “If you’re uncomfortable—”

I interject. “Stop. That’s not it.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair. “You know that’s so far from the truth.”

With a heavy sigh, he moves forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “What is the truth then?”

I slip my hands into my jeans pockets and rock on my heels. “I’m just trying to make the goodbye easier.”

“The goodbye easier,” he echoes. “And is it working?” he asks almost knowingly.

“I have to at least try.”

Oz stands and takes small strides toward me. He clasps my face in between his hands. “I get it. But you don’t need to go home. I don’twantyou to go home.” When I don’t answer, he adds, “I’ll behave. I promise.”

After a long, silent minute, I concede. “Fine. But I’m taking the other couch.”

Oz winks at me and then drops his hands from my face. “Take your seat and find something to watch. I’ll get drinks and put something together for dessert.”

“I can help.”