“Okay, start over.”
I glared at Becca, who was lying on her stomach, sporting a freaking adult onesie with flying pigs on it.
“Which part?” I asked, annoyed.
Becca’s hazel eyes lowered. “The kiss…”
I groaned, slapping my hand over my eyes. “This is serious, Becca! Dawson basically got me pregnant with a kiss and, uh, can we talk about the fact that HE ISN’T SINGLE!!”
“Okay,” she sat up, crossing her pink, fuzzy, flying-pig legs underneath her. “He’s basically single. So, stop. I’m almost positive that Breanna has cheated on him in the past, so whatever.”
My heart hammered in my ears. How dare she cheat on him!
I felt sick. Dawson cheated on his girlfriend with me. He told me it wasn’t my fault, that he shouldn’t have kissed me (talk about a big blow to my ego), but it was my fault because I didn’t stop him right away.
I couldn’t. His mouth on mine was like silencing every sound on earth. His breath along mine, it sent goosebumps over every single inch of my body. All I wanted was more.
I would never get my fill of Dawson. Never.
But still, I knew it was wrong. I also knew that every single thought I’d had of him was wrong, as was crossing all those friends-to-lovers lines. I knew that being alone with him at the cow pasture was wrong because if I were Breanna, I wouldn’t be okay with how we were acting toward one another.
Longing stares, playful nudges, touching each other when we shouldn’t have been. It was wrong from the beginning.
I never should have stayed at his house and I never should have traveled down memory lane with him.
Even if it did feel so incredibly right.
The truth was, I never saw Dawson as my friend for life.
I saw him as so much more.
Even when we were teens and still in that awkward friend-zone place, I saw him as so, so much more.
“Just relax, Ivy,” Becca said, drawing me out of my incessant thoughts.
“I feel bad, though,” I whispered, lowering my head.
She came over and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pushing me further down on the loveseat. “But you shouldn’t. You should never feel wrong for loving someone.”
I drew back. Wait, did I say I loved him out loud?
“Who said I loved him?”
Her plucked eyebrow rose. She half laughed, “Your teenage diary.”
A small smile started to lift my cheeks. “Very funny.”
She quipped, “Well it’s true.”
“We’re different people now, though, and I’m no longer a fifteen-year-old with a massive crush on my best friend.”
Becca said nothing, which was unusual, so I peeked over at her. She was biting her lip but her eyes were doing that thing that Tyra Banks always shouted about on America’s Next Top Model: “Smile with your eyes! Smize, dammit!”
Becca was full-on smiling with her eyes.
I see you, Tyra. I get it.
“The kind of feelings that you had for Dawson, even if you were fifteen, never go away, Ivy. Even back then, everyone could tell that you and Dawson were just… it.”