{Song of the Chapter :- Adore You - Harry Styles}

Of course, I had to say we should forget about the kiss, even though it killed me. I've never been one to back down from something I want, but with Isla? It wasn't that simple. It never was. Forgetting about the kiss was supposed to protect us—to keep everything from falling apart. Because if we crossed that line, there was no going back.

We've been best friends for as long as I can remember. And I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about her that way before. Hell, I've thought about it more than I'd like to admit. But crossing that line? It was never part of the plan.

Yet here we are.

I don't know what came over me that day. One second, I was holding her, trying to comfort her, and the next, it was the feeling of her lips against mine. Soft. Warm. Familiar in a way that knocked the wind out of me. She tasted like coconut chapstick, and the faint scent of vanilla from her shampoo clung to the air around us. It was the same scent that always lingered when she hugged me, but this time... it was different. So damn different. I breathed her in like I couldn't get enough.

Because I couldn't.

I've replayed that moment a thousand times since then. The way she pressed closer, the way her hands fisted in my shirt like she needed me as much as I needed her. For a second, everything felt right. Like maybe this was how it was always supposed to be. Me and her.

But then reality slammed into me. I knew if we kept going down that road, things would get complicated. Too complicated. So, I did the only thing I could think of to keep from screwing it all up—I pretended like it never happened. I told her we should forget the kiss, but not before she iced me out for days. That scared the hell out of me. Isla pulling away? It felt like losing her.

And that's a loss I can't take.

Now, I can't stop thinking about her. About how easy it would be to kiss her again. To pull her into my arms and finally tell her how I've felt for years. But I can't. I won't. Because the second I admit that to her, the second I risk it all, I could lose her forever. And that? That's not an option.

The door to the living room swings open, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see her walk in. Isla. Of course, it's her. She's wearing one of those soft, oversized sweaters that drives me insane, her hair loose and falling over her shoulders in waves. She looks like she walked out of a dream, and I swear, every time I see her, it feels like my chest gets tighter, like there's not enough air in the room.

I clear my throat, trying to act like I haven't been thinking about her nonstop.

"Luna."

She glances at me, her eyes rolling, but there's a smile tugging at her lips. "Theo, come on. Haven't you packed yet?"

Oh, right. We're heading to Isla's beach house for the last few days of summer before we all head off to Harrington in a month. I should be excited. I should be looking forward to spending time with everyone. But the thought of being around her all week, pretending everything's normal, is already making my head spin.

I get up from the couch, forcing myself to keep it light. "We don't leave until seven, why are you being so bossy?" I tease, making my way over to her. "Plus, Lewis and Becca won't even be here until five, and it's..." I glance at the clock on the wall. "Twelve, Luna. You're insane."

She smirks, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. "I like being prepared. Unlike some people."

I shake my head, smiling despite the way my heart is hammering in my chest. "Yeah, well, some people know how to pack in under an hour."

We head into the kitchen, and I do my best to keep it easy, keep it normal. But there's that undercurrent between us, the one that's been there since the kiss, the one that makes every look and every touch feel like something more. I don't know if it's just me, or if she feels it too. But it's there, thick and unspoken.

I grab us both drinks, and as I hand hers over, our fingers brush for just a second. It's nothing. But it's everything. There's no way she didn't feel that—I can tell by the way her breath catches, just for a split second. But neither of us says anything. We keep pretending.

This is how it's been for the past week. The awkward dance of trying to stay friends while pretending like my heart isn't in my throat every time I'm around her. And I can't keep it up much longer.

I want her.

I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.

But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lose her. And losing Isla? That's not an option.

"Are you nervous?" she asks, suddenly breaking the silence.

I glance over at her. "For the trip?"

She shakes her head, her eyes meeting mine. "For Harrington."

Ah. The real question. "A little, I guess," I admit, shrugging. "It's gonna be weird. New place, new people."

"Yeah," she says softly, staring down at her drink. "It's crazy how everything's changing."

I nod, and we both fall silent again. The weight of her words hangs between us, and I can't help but wonder if she's talking about more than just the future. About us. About what happened.

I push off the counter, taking a few steps closer to her.

The tension between us crackles like a live wire. Her gaze stays locked on her drink, but I can feel her heartbeat in the space between us, as if her thoughts are loud enough to hear. My pulse races, my feet rooted to the spot, even though every instinct screams at me to move, to close the gap and say what's been sitting heavy in my chest since that kiss. But I won't.

Because if I do, there's no coming back.

"Luna."

She looks up, her eyes searching mine, like she's waiting for me to say something more. Something real. But I hold back because that's what I do. That's how I've always played it with her. Friends. Nothing more. No matter how badly I wish it were different.

"You're thinking too much," she teases, her lips curving into that smile that never fails to wreck me. "You always get that furrowed brow when you're overthinking."

I huff out a breath, trying to laugh it off. "Yeah, well, you make it hard not to." I don't mean to say it like that, to let the truth slip through the cracks, but it's out there now, hanging in the air between us. I wait for her to laugh it off, to brush past it like we always do.

But she doesn't.

Instead, Isla shifts, her body inching closer until she's standing right in front of me. Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off her. Close enough that the familiar scent of vanilla wraps around me like a second skin, suffocating in the best way. Her eyes flicker down to my lips for a second—a flash so brief I almost miss it. Almost.

And now, I can't think about anything else.

She hesitates for a beat, long enough for me to wonder if she's about to say something, confess something.

The sudden buzz of her phone pulls her attention away. She reaches into her pocket, her movements slow, like she's trying to ground herself after whatever unspoken thing just passed between us. Her brows pinch slightly as she looks down at the screen, swiping her thumb across it before glancing back up at me.

"Becca just texted," she says, the corner of her mouth twitching into a small smile. "They'll be here in an hour."

She slips her phone back into her pocket, her tone casual, like everything's fine. Like the tension that's been building between us all week isn't suffocating the air around us. I nod, forcing myself to act just as unfazed, even though my pulse is still racing from how close we just came to crossing that line again.

I nod, trying to match her casual tone even though my body is anything but. "Guess I should start packing then."

She smirks, pushing off the counter and giving me one last look that sends my mind spiralling. "You really should."

As soon as she leaves the room, the tension crashes over me like a wave. It's been like this all week. Teetering on the edge of something more, only to pull back before it goes too far. I keep telling myself I'm protecting her, protecting us, but maybe I'm just scared. Scared of what happens if we stop pretending and face what's been between us all along.

Because if I admit that I'm in love with Isla, then everything changes. And I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

But I'm not sure I can stop myself anymore either.