The date ends without a kiss. But somehow, that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t feel like a loss.
We talk until our voices turn hoarse, laughing until our stomachs ache and our cheeks burn. It feels easy, like slipping into something I thought I’d outgrown but never really did.
At some point, Jude throws out the idea of a late-night movie, grinning like he already knows I’ll say yes. And for a second, I want to. I want to drag this night out for as long as possible. But it’s late. Mom might need me. Maybe.
On the ride home, I lean into him, my cheek pressed against the warmth of his back. He rides slower than before, like he’s in no rush to get me there, like he feels it too—the ache of something ending too soon.
When we finally pull into Trish’s driveway, my hands tighten around his jacket
