Aparri x reader ~our love~

Two pt. 3 (last and long chapter)

  Made-up answers raced through my mind, and I had to close my eyes and count to fifty to calm down. Fifteen minutes after everything changed was too soon to start obsessing about the what-ifs of the future.
Back outside, warm and giddy in front of Dad's bonfire, I spent the rest of the night not touching Julian, not laughing too hard at his jokes, not looking at him, afraid that someone would read the thoughts written on my face. After the fire had faded to a soft glow and I'd opened all the gifts, it was time for them to head back to their houses. I said my goodbyes and thank-yous to Mia and looked at my feet when it was Julian's turn.
"Thanks for the cake," I said. "And the journal." He knew how much I loved my diaries – as much as he loved his books. It was the best present ever. Well, second best.
"Happy birthday, (Y/n)" he said, picking me up and spinning me around in a giant hug, telling me with a wink that he'd see me tomorrow, just like he'd done on a thousand other nights. "Write something for me tonight."
To everyone else he was regular Julian, the big brother part of the inseparable best friend triangle, the boy who used to bury our Barbies in the backyard and read us adventure stories when we couldn't sleep. But to me, he'd become something else as soon as he pulled my hair at the kitchen sink.
Something other. Something that would never be the way it was before.
You awake? Julian's text message lit up the phone on my night table later that night.
Ya.
Of course I was awake. In the hours since the party, my heart hadn't slowed its furious beat. Sleep was out of the question.
Meet me out back, k?
K. 5 min.
I pulled on a sweatshirt, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a loose ponytail. I started to dig for my eyeliner but decided it would look a little strange (and obvious) if I showed up behind the back deck at one in the morning in full makeup. Instead, I opted for hair down with a little mango-flavored lip gloss
– casual but cute.
It wasn't sneaking out, exactly. I mean, it was my own backyard, and if I saw any of the upstairs lights go on, I could duck back into the kitchen and pretend I was snagging the last piece of cake salvaged from the birthday battle.
Julian was waiting by the stairs when I tiptoed out the back door. My bare feet hadn't even touched the dewy grass when he pulled me against the side of the house.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he said, kissing me again, this time with a purpose and intensity I'd never seen from him in the long history of our friendship. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck as his mouth pressed against mine. I must have been shaking, because after a minute he stopped and asked if I was cold.
"Just – surprised," I said. "And happy. And scared." It was barely a whisper, but I hoped it communicated everything I was thinking. Scared of getting what I wished for. Scared of hurting Mia, since she likes him. 
Scared of losing my two best friends. Scared of undoing everything the three of us had known and loved since we were kids.
"Me, too," he whispered, breathing hard. "(Y/n), did you ever–"
Before he could finish, a square of light fell on the grass from Mom and Dad's bathroom window upstairs.
"I have to go," I said. "Tomorrow?"
He grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him, a whisper brushing against my cheek.
"Tomorrow."
Then he kissed my neck, his lips alighting on the skin below my ear like a spark from the bonfire that burned long after I crept back to my bed.

He called the next day.

"Hi."
"Hi." I was still dazed from the late-night backyard encounter and kiss-induced insomnia.
"Mia and I are going for ice cream. Come over?"
Mia.
"Sure," I said. "But Julian, should we – I mean, did you say anything to her?"
"Not – exactly. "
Does that mean he doesn't think it's a big deal? That we can just go for ice cream like any other day, like it didn't happen? Like it won't happen again?
"I want to, (Y/n)," he said, reading my mind. "It's just – she's my best friend. And you're her best friend. And now you're my – I mean – we need to look out for her, you know?"
And now I'm your what? "I know," I said.
"Don't worry,  I'll tell her, okay? Just let me think about the best way to do it."
"Okay."
"Promise me? Promise you won't say anything?"
"Don't worry." I laughed. "It's our secret, right?"
I spent an hour getting ready, obsessing over hair and clothes and things that never used to matter so much. I couldn't calm the butterflies in my stomach about seeing Julian again, about feeling his lips on me, about telling Mia, about the rest of the summer, about the rest of always.
When I first got to their house, I climbed in the backseat of Julian's car and avoided eye contact with him, worried either that he'd already told Mia, or that he hadn't. We rode the whole way not looking at each other, Mia chattering in the front seat about their upcoming California trip, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the whole world had changed the night before. It wasn't until we got inside Custard's Last Stand and Mia forgot her purse in the car that we finally locked eyes.