Chapter 65 (1/2)

“I was talking about soccer. You don’t watch any sports?” I ask. I know Tessa doesn’t.

Nora shakes her head. “Nope. I’d rather cut my own eyes out and eat them with ketchup.”

I laugh at her very detailed and fairly morbid reply.

“Well, then.” I reach for a scone that she already covered in icing and she stops my hand just before I grab it.

“You have to let the icing cool,” she explains, her hand still on mine.

“Just like three minutes,” Tessa adds.

Nora’s hand is so warm.

Why isn’t she letting go?

And why don’t I want her to?

I was supposed to be forgetting about any sort of attraction I have to her. I was supposed to get used to my spot in the friend zone. It seems pointless to keep asking myself these stupid questions about why I feel this or feel that, but I’m trying to feel slightly more in control of myself, and asking questions seems like a way to do that.

I need to constantly remind myself to stay in the friend zone. It’s hard to do this when she’s sitting here, looking at me like this, touching me like this, wearing that.

I glance down at our hands, hers darker than mine, and when my eyes catch hers, she seems to remember that she shouldn’t be holding my hand like this; friends don’t hold hands.

Tessa’s phone rings and Nora jumps. Her cheeks flare, and I want to reach for her again, but I can’t.