You Don't Get To Be Careful Anymore

[Back to Nick's POV]

He doesn't look away from me. Not once.

And I don't know how I'm supposed to breathe normally with that kind of attention. The kind that's raw and steady and almost too late but not quite.

I said okay.

I meant it.

But now we're just sitting here like a truce is supposed to undo the ache. Like a chance is a bandaid.

It's not.

I tap the table with my thumb. My knee's bouncing under it. I hate that he still makes me feel like this. Nervous. Exposed. Warm. Stupid.

"You okay?" he asks, breaking the silence.

God, his voice. Why does it have to sound like regret wrapped in honey?

"Yeah," I lie. "Totally."

He tilts his head, like he doesn't believe me but doesn't want to push either. I don't blame him. He already pushed too much. Then not at all. Now he's… here.

And I don't know what to do with here.

"I meant what I said," he says. "About wanting to try."

"Cool," I say. I sound deadpan. Too cold. But if I let warmth back in too fast, it might drown me.

He sighs. "Look, if this is gonna be weird—"

"It is weird," I snap before I can stop myself. "You kissed me and then acted like I was the one who messed up. You walked around this house like nothing happened. And now you say you want a chance?"

His face falls just a bit. "I know. I know I screwed it up. I was scared."

"You think I wasn't?" I ask. My voice cracks. Great. "You think it was easy for me? Wondering if I imagined the whole thing? If I wanted too much?"

He leans forward. "You didn't. I promise you didn't."

Something in me clenches.

"I don't need promises, Alex," I whisper. "I just… I need you to stop making me feel like I'm hard to love."

His eyes go wide. Like I said something violent.

"I never meant—"

"I know you didn't," I interrupt. "But that's what it felt like."

He presses his lips together. Like he's holding something in. Words or guilt or both.

I hate how much I want him to say something right now. I hate that I'm still so open, even after everything.

But then he speaks. Carefully. Too carefully.

"I've never done this before."

"I know," I say. "But you don't get to be careful anymore."

That surprises him.

"You kissed me, Alex. You started this. If you're in, you need to be in. No more half-steps. No more disappearing."

He swallows hard. "I'm in."

I stare at him. "Say it again."

"I'm in," he repeats, firmer. "I want this. Whatever this is. I want you."

I exhale slowly, heart stumbling.

"Then prove it," I say, barely louder than a breath. "Not right now. Not in some big dramatic way. Just… be here. Show up. That's all I want."

He nods. "Okay."

I nod too.

And then neither of us knows what to do. So we sit in it. In the strange, messy start of something real.

I should be scared. But all I feel is this weird kind of relief.

Like maybe… just maybe… I'm not going to be left behind this time.