And Then We Fell Apart (18+)

chapter 27

I don't sleep that night.

Instead I lie awake in my lonely bed with a fast beating heart, my mind running rampant in a way that can't be silenced. My heart aches— yearns for the boy in the house next door more than I can explain. It's an unfamiliar strain than what I've become conditioned to over the last five years.

My body tingles where every touch and kiss was left as if he's imprinted himself on me. Teeth and hot tongue on my neck, chest, and against my lips leave me in a state of desperation from the now almost fourteen hours without.

After we carefully and shyly reclothed our bodies after we spent what feels like lifetimes kissing and gently touching each other in the newly messed sheets on his bed, we went to the beach and treated the day as we always did. Only then, there was a strange feeling in the air between us. As we swim in the salty ocean, splashing turns into touching that turns into flushed cheeks and lingering stares. Undeniable lust and passion that swirls between us and weaves itself so tightly there that it feels like we'll never be who we were before.

But for the first time, there's no negative connotation to it. This feels really good. Safe.

Only now, we stay in our respective separate rooms and try to wrap our heads around this afternoon.

The next morning isn't any easier. As I run on very little sleep, I'm pretty disappointed to see Noah and Bennett in the kitchen at Sam's. I was hoping it would just be the two of us— selfishly. I'm quickly reminded that won't be the case for today or tomorrow, because they're staying over at Sam's tonight.

"Chandler can decide," Bennett drops his hand on the countertop.

"What can I decide?" I ask. I still haven't looked at Sam, worried my face will be the brightest shade of red and will therefore be a dead giveaway that something happened between us.

Noah sighs. "I think we should go to the beach but Bennett thinks we should stay in because it's raining."

I nod, careful as my eyes move to the boy who hasn't said anything yet. And before I can process the look on his face, I quietly ask, "What do you wanna do, Sam?"

Then, I process.

It's no secret that I'm the biggest fan of his eyes— an absolute sucker for their darkness. They're on me as he leans over the counter, as he often does, and there's a knowingness this time that's quite unfamiliar to me. A sparkle that I'm curious about, especially as it pairs with a very small, shy smile.

"Whatever you want, Chandler," he replies.

My skin feels ten million degrees the second my name rolls of his tongue. I want him to say it again, say it like he did yesterday when we were taking our clothes off, say it like he did when I was coming for him— over him. Rough and desperate all at once.

When his gaze becomes too much, I look down at the floor and shrug. He knows that neither of these options will suffice for me, he knows I'd rather repeat yesterday afternoon than anything else.

"You two are useless," Bennett rolls his eyes before I can respond. I snap my head up to him. "Can we at least stay inside until it stops raining?"

I'd try to rebut, but Noah and Bennett are already moving toward the living room before I can tell him that I'm not useless. The minimal rage flees the second I realize that their lack of patience results in Sam and I being alone in the kitchen.

"What's his problem?" I ask from across the room. It's my attempt at a neutral topic to test the waters.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Don't know. I don't really feel like keeping track of his emotions today."