Peter steps back. “Yeah.” He doesn’t sound mad, just... off.
I turn away, walking straight for the living room like I need to breathe a different kind of air. This is how it always ends.
A guy likes me. Or I find someone I think I could grow to like. I try. I try so hard to make it work. But then he kisses me, and just like that, I’m out. No spark. No fire. No pull. It’s like the plug gets yanked out of the wall, and the whole thing dies before it even begins.
And this time, it’s Peter. Someone close to home.
I sink onto the couch, mind a blur, and that’s when I notice my phone is ringing. It’s Noah.
My throat tightens instantly. Why is it always you? Why does it always come back to you?
Like some kind of sickness in my blood. I want Noah. I’ve always wanted him. The world is full o
