yours.

[33] Miles

We decide to spend the next few hours more calmly, playing Strike Brawl to give ourselves a break from the... kisses, and everything.

To keep things interesting, I offer to up the stakes.

"If I win, you have to tell me something embarrassing about yourself."

Jasper rolls his eyes, scooting closer to me on the floor. Our legs pressed together, he answers, "And when I win, you have to tell me something you regret."

My nose scrunches, and Jasper watches the action. "Why would you do that to me?"

"It's virtually the same thing."

"No, embarrassment passes. Regret doesn't."

"Oh well." He reaches for his controller, staring out at my monitor, which we moved to the floor for visibility. "Time for you to lose."

And he's right. He beats me, as usual. After our match, he sets down his controller, turning to me expectantly. "Fine," I sigh. I pause, thinking of something equally regrettable and non-embarrassing. "When I was fourteen," I start, "I was considering trying out for this one travel team. I decided not to, and that team ended up winning states." I shake my head, cringing. "Biggest mistake of my life."

"That's dramatic."

I shrug. "It's true." Well, partly.

Jasper picks up his controller again. "Next time, tell me something embarrassing."

We play on like this for a while, and I'm forced to tell Jasper something embarrassing (I'm always too scared to watch horror movies), something that makes me laugh (when kids at school try to act cooler than they are), something that makes me cry (pretty much nothing), and something that makes me happy (him).

When he threatens to start playing with his eyes closed, I finally give in, framing his face with my hands and kissing him until he pulls away, blushing.

Take things slow, I remind myself. I've been giving him too many kisses, way too fast. I guess it just feels so nice to finally let myself show affection -- true, unrestrained affection -- toward him, but I've been leaning into that feeling... a little too much. But I really do need to slow down. Jasper and I are still getting to know each other--

Something embarrassing occurs to me. "Hey, Jasper?" He blinks at me, and I stroke a thumb down his cheek. Then, as casually as I can, I ask, "What's your last name?" He just stares at me, and I offer a soft smile. "Just wondering."

"You don't know my name?"

"Your last name," I amend, defensive. "And you don't know mine, either." When he lifts an eyebrow -- one of the only sights that can make my stomach flip -- I continue, "Right?"

"Brown." I draw my hand from his cheek as he grins at me, smug. "Miles Brown," he says confidently. "You know how I know? It's all over your trophies, and it's on a family picture hanging by your front door downstairs, and it's on the doormat outside."

I glance away, embarrassed. "That... that's fair."

"I know better than to kiss a guy I don't even know," he says pointedly, but I know it's a joke.

I nudge his knee, and he leans in to me a little. "Well, what's your last name?" When he stays silent, I ask again.

"Be quiet. I'm considering whether I should tell you." I scoff, and he adds, quietly, "I'm kidding. It's Stone."

"Jasper Stone." I turn the words over in my mind. "That's hot." He laughs suddenly, a high, breathy sound. I like it.

"It's better than Miles Brown, I know that for sure."

"Hey," I protest, smiling down at him. "My name is cool."

He lays a hand on my chest. "Sure it is." We watch each other, soft smiles on our lips, before Jasper leans forward to kiss me gently. "I like kissing you," he says, his gaze wandering over my face. "I like you."

I take one of his hands in both of mine, turning it over to lightly trace the lines of his palm. "Would now be a good time to ask for your number?"

A shadow crosses his features, and I can feel him drawing away from me. Not physically, but mentally. "I... uh. I don't."

"You don't..."

"I don't have a phone." He glances away. "Or I do, but it's broken. It doesn't work -- I can't text. Or call. Or do anything, really."

"Oh." I wait for him to meet my eye again before continuing. "Well, are you going to get it fixed?"

He swallows, shaking his head.

"Okay. That's okay. We can just keep talking in person."

"Yeah." He turns his head again, this time to stare at the paused screen of our game. "Maybe I should be the one answering the questions. Since you apparently know nothing about me."

He offers the opportunity to move on, and I take it gratefully. "Fine, then. What's your favorite color?"

He drops his head into a hand, resting his elbow on his leg. "Seriously? That's what you start with?" Then he lifts his head, sighing, "It's gray. Next?"

"Gray?" I repeat, and he nods. "All the colors out there, and you choose gray?"

"It's calm, it's neutral, it's..." He notices my stare. "What's yours, then?"

"Blue."

"Oh, like every other person on the planet."

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "This isn't about me. What's your... I don't know, what's your happiest memory?" I expect the question to raise Jasper's spirits, but it only seems to darken them. His brow furrows, his gazing growing so distant I'm not sure I can bring him back. "Jasper?"

"I..." His expression gains a frantic edge, and he pushes away from me. "I should probably get going." I reach out a hand to stop him, but he rises to his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm sorry, I..."

I stand to join him, and my hands come to rest on his arms. He avoids my eye. "Jasper," I say softly but firmly. "This isn't going to work if you keep running away from me. If there are things you're not ready for, that's okay. But you can't keep playing with me like this."

His chin trembles, and I watch him, waiting for a response. All I get is an "Okay."

"Talk to me."

He takes one long, shuddering breath, before meeting my gaze and muttering, "My happiest memory I have is of my brother Max and me. One day, our parents just... decided it was time for us to leant to ride our bikes. Max learned before me, but he was... he was still so supportive of me. He didn't brag about learning faster, he just kept encouraging me and cheering me on until I finally got it, and I was able to ride with him." His gaze falls, and his breath catches in his throat. I stroke a hand along his arm until he continues, "We were so happy that day. And even when our parents weren't there, we still had each other. And that was more than enough for both of us." He collapses against my chest, wrapping his arms around my middle.

I vaguely remember his brother's name. I've seen it on a tag, no, a label... The moving box. It was on one of the cardboard boxes I helped him move into his house that very first day, weeks ago. I haven't heard the name since, I realize. "What happened? Are you two not close anymore?"

Jasper's arms tighten around me, and I assume this is more of a sensitive subject than I expected. Gently, I take his shoulders and edge him away from me. "It's okay, you're okay," I try to console him. He's not crying, but his eyes are watering like he's about to.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice hushed. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

He steps away from me, then starts for my bedroom door. "I have to go -- I really do. I'm so sorry, I don't... I don't think I'm ready for this yet." Then he pushes through into the hallway beyond, and I don't chase him.

I can't handle any more rejection from him.