Start of the heat

Your voice was steady, but inside? You felt it—an icy rush, cold but cutting, like you had just slashed a thread that had been holding you and Jen together.

“He ain’t my boyfriend.”

“He never was. We were never together.”

Jen froze, the air between you suddenly feeling heavier—like he was holding his breath.

You could see it in his eyes.

The realization shattered something behind his gaze.

“Wait…” His voice cracked, and there it was. The tiniest hint of hurt. “So all that with Seth… it’s just—what? Nothing?”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the moment more than you wanted to. You weren’t trying to break him, but that was exactly what you had done by telling the truth.

“I’m not playing anyone, Jen. Not Seth. Not you.” You ran a hand through your hair, looking down at the ground. “It’s complicated, alright? I’m complicated.”

You could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. He was fighting something.

Maybe anger.

Maybe jealousy.

Maybe all of it.

He stepped back, putting space between you. It was a move you weren’t expecting. You thought he’d push. Demand answers. But instead, he was… withdrawing.

“So what does this mean, then?” he asked, his voice almost inaudible. “What are we, Moon?”

You could hear the weight of the question hanging in the night air, as if everything was on the edge of falling apart or coming together.

And for a second, you almost reached for him. Almost let yourself close the distance.

But you didn’t.

You stayed right where you were, heart pounding in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “But I’m not going to pretend anymore. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

Jen’s eyes burned into you.

It was real now.

No more pretending. No more games.

You’re standing there. The cool night air swirling around, the empty space between you and Jen almost unbearable.

And that’s when it clicks.

You take a step closer, eyes locked on his—no more running, no more hiding behind words. The truth’s out there now, but so is the spark you’ve both been dancing around.

Jen’s chest rises with a breath, his hand reaching for the skateboard at his feet. But he doesn’t move. Not yet. Not until you do something.

Instead, you take another step closer. So close, you can feel the heat of his body, the way his breath quickens when you’re near. His fingers twitch, like he’s trying to figure out whether he should hold himself back or just lean in.

So you reach up—your fingers brushing against his jaw. A slow, deliberate move.

"You want me to keep you waiting, Jen?"

"Or do you want to finally find out what happens when you stop pretending?"

He doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t need to.

You feel the heat build between you, the chemistry sparking like it’s been waiting for this moment to light the whole damn place on fire.

And then you lean in.

Just enough for him to feel your breath on his lips.

Just enough for him to know you’re not running anymore.

“You want a taste of me, or are you still gonna play it safe, skater boy?”

[siim]

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