Page 46 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

It’s not much longer until she heaves a sigh and wrinkles her nose. “I think my legs are going to give out if we skate anymore.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” I glance toward the benches. “Come on, let’s sit down. I bet there’s a booth where we can get some hot cocoa. What do you say?”

This part? The gentle part? It’s new to me. I don’t know what I’m doing, but something about Wren makes me want to try anyway.

She looks up at me like I’m the sun and she’s the moon, quietly orbiting. “That sounds perfect.”

I grab the cocoa while she takes off her skates. When I return, we sit together in the stands. As I settle next to her, she slides closer without hesitation, her eyes locked on the hot cocoa in my hands.

“For me?” she asks.

My lips tip up. “For you.”

I hand it over. Our fingers brush. She doesn’t even seem to notice that she’s leaning against my shoulder as she sips. I don’t move. I grip my own Styrofoam cup with both hands, afraid that if I shift, I’ll ruin the moment.

“This is good,” Wren murmurs, taking another sip. “I think I needed this. Maybe I had a little low blood sugar or something.”

I smile and glance up at the drifting constellations. We sit like that for a long time. Silent, but close. I don’t quite knowwhat’s happening here. This kind of quiet wouldn’t be something I’d aim for on a normal date.

Not that this is a date.

But Wren makes the silence feel easy. Companionable. I don’t have to impress her. I don’t have to be funny or smooth or try at all. I can just be myself.

That’s a strange sort of relief.

We stay quiet on the drive home, too. The good kind of quiet. Her head tilts toward the window. My hand flexes on the steering wheel like it wants to do something dumb.

What, I don’t even know. Maybe touch her. Maybe something worse. My hormones are trying to get me killed.

I pull into the driveway beside my house. She unbuckles her seat belt but doesn’t move to get out. I stare straight ahead, uncertain. I don’t want to ruin tonight. I don’t want to argue with her, either.

How do I talk to Wren without something stupid falling out of my mouth?

“Thanks for tonight,” she says softly.

“No problem.” I hesitate, then add, “It wasn’t a date, though.”

“Obviously.” But still, she doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

The silence should be awkward, but it’s not. It’s heavy. Charged. Like the pause before a crash… or a kiss.

We just sit there, staring at the windshield, breathing the same space. After a long moment, I glance over. She’s already looking at me. Long red hair, glossy pink lips, green eyes wide and steady.

Before I can stop myself, I reach out and brush her cheek. Her lips part slightly. I know, before I even lean in, that I’m going to kiss her again.

This one is different. My lips find hers, soft and searching. She sighs into the kiss, then her hand curls into my hoodie, pulling me closer, deepening it.

Like she means it.

Like she wants it.

Her lips are soft, but there’s hunger in the way she kisses me back. It guts me. Because this isn’t just a kiss. It’s something bigger. Something I’m not ready for.

God, I want to find out if that could possibly be true. But I can’t. She’s off-limits in her very special, very dangerous way.

I untangle myself gently and pull back.