Page 12 of The Last Dance

‘I know.’

‘There’s also something I’ve been keeping from you.’

‘What is it?’ I ask, a little nervous. He tells me everything. If he hasn’t told me something, it’s probably really bad.

‘Remember the other night, at the concert, when I, uh…?’

I nod, kind of thankful he didn’t finish his sentence. I can’t quit thinking about that night. I know exactly what it was but for some reason I can’t seem to force myself to think that’s what was actually happening. ‘I remember.’ My heart starts to race in my chest.

‘You told Claire you thought I almost kissed you.’

My jaw drops open in shock. Damn it, Claire. Of course, she would tell Ben everything I said in the bathroom that night. And Ben tells Henry everything. Even when you ask him not to.

‘I, uh, that’s what it seemed like.’ I shrug. ‘But I totally get that you weren’t.’ I lie. I’ve been kissed before; that was a build-up to a kiss if I ever saw one.

He stares into my eyes for what feels like forever. ‘You didn’t pull away either. You thought I was going to kiss you and you weren’t going stop it.’

I nod my head in a roundabout unsure answer. He picked up on that, huh? ‘OK. That’s true, but I—’

‘Thatiswhat I wanted to do.’ He interrupts me, taking a step in my direction, leaving only inches between us in my somewhat dark kitchen. ‘You make everything so much better for me, Ambri. It’s only because of you that I can hold it together most of the time. I have all these feelings for you lately and I don’t know what to do with them because as soon as I delve in—’

I kiss him. I can’t help it. I can see that’s where this is going, and I’ll save him the trouble of having to explain himself because I feel the same thing he’s starting to describe. Plus, if I don’t do it it’s all I’m going to think about for the rest of my life.

His lips are soft, and for a moment he stands stunned. I pull away when he doesn’t kiss me back.

‘Oh, my God.’ I step back, horrified that I seem to be the only one having feelings that I thought he was hinting at. ‘I’m sorry, I thought that’s where this was headed… It wasn’t, was it?’ Shit. Now what have I done?

He stares into my eyes like he’s searching for permission. A shy smile crosses his face as he reaches down, touching my face softly, sliding his hand to my neck and gently pulling me back to him, kissing me like our lives depend on it.

OK, so yeah, he feels it too.

He shoves me up against the wall, in a way I like way too much, and pulls my shirt over my head. I don’t stop him.

This is wrong, Ambri. You should really stop now before you go too far. This can’t end up good. Now is not the time for this.

Ah, who am I kidding? What’s about to happen couldn’t be stopped if a freight train were headed for us. We’re both adults, it’s not like anyone is being forced to have overwhelming feelings for the other.

*

I lay awake most of the night.Aftersleeping with my best friend. After spending the most intense, earth-shattering night I’ve ever experienced with… anyone, actually. That said, I keep having this sinking feeling that this wasn’t the right thing to do. Rory would hate me. Am I the reason he can’t seem to move on? Am I a constant reminder for him? Is that why he asked me that question tonight? Did he ask because that is exactly how he’s feeling? Those questions have played on a loop for hours. I’ve been afraid to look over at him. Now that daylight is finally peering through my blinds I know I can’t just lie here afraid to face him. He’s my best friend. I roll over; his side of the bed is empty.

I grab a T-shirt from the floor, sliding it on and making my way into the living room. He’s sitting on my couch, staring into the empty, somewhat dark room. He’s wearing only the jeans he came here in yesterday. He looks up at me when I walk in the room, his eyes tight, his expression slack. His hand resting on the back of his neck. He’s stressed, which is never what you want after spending the night with someone.

‘Hey,’ I say, walking over and sitting next to him.

‘Hi.’ He drops his hand reaching over and taking my hand in his, holding it between both of his hands, an obvious forced hesitant smile on his face as he stares down at our hands. Not a good sign.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I ask nervously. I have to ask or I’ll dwell on it forever.

‘Anything.’

‘Is us being so close what’s causing you to not be able to move on? AmIa constant reminder of her foryou?’

He sighs, resting his head on my shoulder, silence filling the air for longer than is comfortable. ‘Maybe? Sometimes.’

I jerk away from him, causing him to sit up. ‘Maybe?’ I yell it, surprising even myself. I’ve never yelled at him in anger. Not really. I fully expected him to say no there, and yet his answer is pretty much yes. ‘My God, Henry! You idiot!’ I pull the shirt down my lap, suddenly very aware that I’m sitting here practically naked. ‘I can’t believe you!’ I stand, pacing the room in front of him. ‘We sleep together and you decide thisafter? I don’t want to be the reason you never heal from this. I can’t be the girl you’re with because I am what’s comfortable and available. I don’t want tomaybe sometimesbe that constant reminder of what you’ve lost. And Ireallydon’t want to be anyone’s consolation prize.’

He stares blankly into the room for a few moments, that feel like a few hours. He rubs his face with his hands. ‘I know. This is not what I wanted to happen either. But I don’t think I can live with the guilt I’m feeling.’

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