Page 46 of Head Under Water

“What are you⁠—”

“I almost forgot.”

Another beat, his breath still there.

“Happy birthday, Opal.”

His mouth lingers close enough that I feel the shape of his words against my skin. Close enough that if I turn my head, our lips might brush.

It takes several seconds to process what he’s said, for my mind to form a fist around it, and when I do, when I finally turn, he’s already gone. Moments later, I hear his door close down the hall.

He remembered.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AGE 19

Back on campus after the conference, Will meets me in the library to begin preparing our presentations. We lay out pages of our notes, put together a plan, and set to work.

Our knees bump under the table almost immediately. Neither of us moves or acknowledges it. It’s accidental. A mistake.

It’s also not.

It’s all business between us suddenly, like the escape room and that night never even happened. Like we didn’t almost cross a line we’ve been pretending doesn’t exist for years. Like I didn’t feel his mouth inches from mine. Like he didn’t look at me as if he was deciding something irreversible.

Like I didn’t want him to.

Whenever he leans over to read my notes, his shoulder brushes mine, and each time, I stop breathing for a few seconds. At first, it’s frustration. Anger. Then it’s…something else. Yet he always goes on pretending he doesn’t notice.

“You’re wrong about section three,” Will says quietly. He doesn’t look at me when he says it. He just slides my notebook back toward me, fingers grazing mine in a way that feels charged, like we’re both seconds away from…

What exactly?

“Am I?” I don’t pull my hand away.

Neither does he.

“Yes.” His thumb brushes lightly over my knuckle before he lets go. Everything in me ignites. Electric.

I hold his gaze a second too long. “Guess I was a little tired when I was compiling those notes. I’d had a long night.”

He stills. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I shrug, turning the page in my notebook. “The asshole next door had a noisy sleepover.” My tone sounds casual. Almost bored.

It is neither.

He leans back in his chair. “Funny. That asshole waited for someone who never showed up.”

My fingers tighten around my pencil. “Really? Glad she was so interchangeable then.”

He puffs out a breath of disbelief. “Interchangeable.”

“Just saying. Clearly you had fun. Good for you.”

“You can’t seriously be mad.”

I copy down a section of his notes onto my page. His eyes follow my every move. “I’m just happy we all had a great time. Clearly, whoever you were waiting for would’ve been a huge mistake. Sounds like you both realized it, and…and it all worked out.”