Chapter 12

Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have kissed Gavin like that. In my defense, that is what you're supposed to do when you find yourself on the kiss cam. I suppose I didn't have to kiss him for that long, or lean my head against his, or smile like it's the first time I've ever been happy. Except, at that moment, I was happy—truly, genuinely happy—and I can't remember the last time I felt quite so light and carefree.

Gavin's little meltdown put a bit of a damper on things, but we managed to rally somewhat in the second period. By the time the game ended, we were back to our old selves—that is, being all awkward and overly polite with each other.

I've been thinking about it all day: why things have gotten so weird between us. If I'm honest, I haven't paid much attention to Gavin's love life through the years. I mean, if he's seeing someone, I'll ask how it's going and I've met a couple of his boyfriends before. His relationships never seem to last long, though, and I've never bothered to ask why. That's a far cry from saying he has feelings for me, but there's something there that keeps niggling at me.

"Hey, thanks again for these tickets, G," I say as we inch our way out of the arena.

"No problem. It was fun."

To anyone else, that would sound like a totally sincere comment. But I know Gavin, and I can hear the tension tainting his words.

"Come on, this way's faster." He takes my arm and drags me sideways, cutting through the current of people all headed toward the subway.

Someone comes barging through the crowd, dislodging Gavin's hand on my arm, and for a moment we're two balloons in the pool, drifting away from each other. A gap opens in front of me and I surge forward, grabbing onto Gavin's arm. My hand slides down to his wrist and before I can think about what I'm doing, we're holding hands.

And not the way you might shake someone's hand where you keep all your fingers together. Oh no, our fingers are spread apart, slotting into place in between each other. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, and suddenly it feels like our hands are bound together with a force that's not of this world.

Gavin leads and I follow. Our palms are glued together. We rush down the steps of a subway station just as a train crawls to a stop on the tracks. We push our way through, shoulder our way past the closing doors, and cram ourselves onto the train along with hundreds of other passengers.

There is not one inch of air between us. His breath is hot against my neck. I have to purposefully tilt my head away so I'm not resting my chin on his temple.

His hands are on my waist, stuck there from when he was pulling me close so I could make it onto the train with him. My arms are around his shoulders, hands on his back. I don't know where else to put them; there isn't room for me to move them away. Neither of us can reach a pole or a rail or anything to help us stay balanced when the train moves. We only have each other.

My heart pounds in my chest and I'm pretty sure it's not from our dash to the train. Heat courses through my body and it isn't because we're packed in here like sardines. I don't notice any of the other people anyway. They don't exist in my mind. It's only Gavin and how he feels pressed right up against me.

"G?" I whisper. Something's happening and I don't understand what's going on. Something's growing inside me, a yearning I've never felt before. I want, but I don't know what it is I want. I crave, so much that it scares me.

Gavin's whole body is tense. "Don't." The word is nothing but a puff of air over my skin, yet the warmth of it trickles down into me, making me aware of parts of myself that I hadn't known existed before.