fifteen. can never have you

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THERE'S A FAINT smell of familiar cologne on my pillow when I wake up in my bed alone. I sit up, a dizzy feeling immediately washing over me. Looking around and adjusting to my surroundings, I realize I'm the only one here. I furrow my eyebrows, turning my head to stare at the spot on my bed next to me as if it'll give me the answer to what happened last night.

I remember going to a party with Adrian and hanging out with his friends before I started doing shots with Rocky. My memory's a little blurry after that. I don't know how I got back home or even back here in my room.

And why the fuck does my bed smell like Jeremiah?

Laying back down, I face the side that is cold. I don't know why after all these years of liking him, I'm still so affected by him. Is this what it would be like to wake up beside him every morning? With the soft aroma of lemons and soap filling my senses so that all I feel is warm and all I hear is my heart pounding in the silence.

I move my hand over the other half of the bed, swiping it back and forth on the sheets. I narrow my eyes at the side of the bed, wondering what the hell happened because something obviously did.

Sighing, I lean closer so that my nose is against the sheets. I close my eyes as if that will ease my embarrassment from trying to memorize his scent on my bed. It doesn't.

I quickly move away and get up from the bed, pretending I didn't just sniff him. Looking at my phone, I realize it's nearly two in the afternoon. I wash my face and brush my teeth before walking out of my bedroom door.

Hearing voices, I walk further down the hall and see Belly and Jeremiah around the corner. My heart stops. Not only because they're here together alone but also because he's shirtless, and my head is sending me images I'd rather not be seeing right now. I catch the tail-end of their conversation.

"How come nobody ever wants to play with me?" Jeremiah asks with a cute expression on his face.

Belly chuckles and leans forward to touch her finger on his nose. "Later."

She turns around to go back to her room and closes the door. Jeremiah is still outside her door, and from the side, I can see his smile before it slowly drops. He looks down with his eyebrows knitted together and lets out a soft sigh.

I don't have time to hide before he turns and his eyes catch mine. His face is neutral, a mask he has spent the last two years perfecting, and I can't help but desperately wish I could see through it. We stand there staring at each other, unable to move or look away.

I watch his throat bob up and down, his jaw tight with emotion that I can't decipher. Suddenly, he looks away and starts moving in my direction. At first, I think he's coming to me but then I realize he's walking past me. I don't mean to, but I notice him swerving just enough so that no part of his body brushes mine.

Before I even know what I'm doing, my hand shoots out to grab his wrist. He freezes. My eyes widen. Shit, why did I do that?

Slowly, he turns around and looks at the ground for a moment before raising his gaze to my face. He lets my hand sit there on his wrist, completely unaware of his skin burning mine. My heart speeds up, and I wonder if he can hear it. He doesn't look mad or upset. Just confused.

His eyebrows are scrunched together adorably as he stares down at me through his thick lashes. I have no idea why he isn't pulling away. I let my palm stay on his wrist for a few seconds more before I remove my hand and let it fall back to my side.

I'm not sure if it's just my eyes playing tricks on me, but I could swear that his face falls for just a minute before the mask covers it once again.

I clear my throat. "Um... what... what happened last night?"

𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, jeremiah fisherOpowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz