Not Supposed to Feel Like This

Brielle couldn’t remember the last time she had held someone’s hand and felt it everywhere in her heartbeat, in her breath, in the warm ache low in her stomach.

Jaxon’s hand was large and sure around hers, but gentle. Like he was asking for something without speaking it. Like he was testing whether she’d pull away.

She didn’t.

They walked past the bakery and down the quiet side of Willow Creek, where the houses were spaced apart and the trees framed the road in a soft, golden tunnel. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the branches, painting warm streaks across Jaxon’s shoulders.

He finally broke the silence.

“You always used to walk this route,” he said. “Every day after school.”

Brielle blinked. “How do you remember that?”

He huffed a laugh. “Because I used to walk behind you. Not in a creepy way I just ended up going the same way.”

“That sounds creepy,” she teased.

He bumped her shoulder lightly. “You know what I mean.”

She hid a smile. “I guess.”

“You’d always put your headph