Page 38 of Make Out With A Merman

But I’m not.

Not after last night.

Her skin’s still on mine. Her laugh’s still echoing in my head like a storm that hasn’t passed. And the weight of what wedid, what Ilet happen, it claws at me with every step.

I shouldn’t have gone to her.

Shouldn’t have stayed.

I curse under my breath, trying to shake her out of my head like she’s just lakewater and not the damn fire eating through my chest.

But it’s too late for pretending.

And too dangerous to keep going.

I see her at breakfast.

She’s barefoot, wearing one of those oversized shirts she knots at the waist, hair a tangle of curls that looks even better messy.

She catches my eye like it’s nothing.

Like we didn’t…

No.

Nope.

She waves a spoon in my direction and grins. “Hey, Grumpzilla. Want some coffee or are you surviving on pure angst this morning?”

I blink.

Then walk the other direction without answering.

Her grin falters.

But she doesn’t follow.

That makes it worse somehow.

Julie cornersme during equipment checks like she’s got a sixth sense for guilt.

“You avoiding your co-lead now?” she asks, clipboard in one hand, coffee in the other.

“She’s fine running the lake drills on her own.”

Julie squints at me. “Is that your official excuse, or are we pretending we don’t know what happened between you two last night?”

I don’t answer.

Julie doesn’t need me to.

“You know,” she says, “some people let themselves be happy for more than one night.”

“This isn’t about me being happy,” I snap.

“It never is with you,” she mutters, walking off before I can reply.

I stare at the equipment bin like it might explode just to end the conversation.

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