All Chapters of Something Like Elena : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“Was it also for her?”Her voice had been shaking. Shaking, damn it. I’m such a fucking idiot.After everything I told myself, everything I swore, I still went and did it. I still touched her.I told myself I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. But when Ray was right next to me, hair twisted into that soft messy bun, lips looking so pink, so ripe... I couldn’t walk away. I couldn’t not taste her.It happened in a split second. And just like that, it was too late to undo it. I kissed her. And I hurt her. In the same breath.After the almost-kiss in the kitchen that day, I knew. I already knew Ray probably had feelings for me. And it made me feel… happy. Comfortable, even. I relaxed a little when she was around Peter, knowing that she might choose me if given the chance.But that was selfish. I knew it was selfish. If I had no intention of doing anything about it, I should’ve left her alone. So why the hell did I lose my head and kiss her? Why did I give her something only to rip it away? I confused

I know what I said. What I agreed to.But I didn’t think it meant having fucking Peter in my house.All that speech Ray gave at the cemetery when we accidentally ran into each other? All that heat and emotion? It’s nothing now. Watered down to nothing the second she shows up at my doorstep, with him.Well, her doorstep too, technically. She lives here. But right now, I’m so keyed up I can’t think straight, I’m literally pacing.Peter used to be the only friend I’d say came close to what I had with Ray.Not really, but close. We saw eye to eye once. Same wavelength. Now? He’s got that smug, city-boy vibe like he just got back from someplace better. That careless swag, the I’m-better-than-you energy radiating off him, it pisses me off.I can’t stand how casual he is. The way he talks, the way he laughs, like everything’s a joke and you’re just slow if you don’t get it. And what grates even more? Ray won’t stop laughing. I want to say something. I want to tell her he’s not that funny. I

It’s happening again.Peter is such a great guy. He can be a little boastful sometimes, a little too confident, but he’s funny. We have a lot in common, so many inside jokes, the same sense of humor, but even all that doesn’t bring the sparks I want to see. The sparks I only ever seem to feel with Noah.Ever since Noah came to my room that night, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About how every nerve in my body tenses and lights up when he looks at me. How my breath changes with his every move. When I think he’s about to kiss me. When his eyes land on me like I’m the main course and he’s starving.I melt every time. And that feeling, I’m afraid I’m addicted to it. Because I don’t feel it with Peter.We’re at Peter’s place. Music plays low through the speakers, something soft and romantic. He’s got red wine on the table. I don’t drink red wine. I prefer white. I tell him that.“Just try it, babes. This isn’t the usual brand stuff, it’s very delicate, barely any alcohol st

I feel like a madman. Like the sane version of me’s been locked away somewhere, gagged, cuffed, out cold, and now this obsessive, stubborn, rude bastard has taken over. I don’t care. Not tonight.My tires skid a little as I hit the brakes in front of the Paxwell place. Big-ass duplex with a gate that screams private property. Ray’s not outside.I climb out, slam the door harder than I mean to, and stab the doorbell. My patience is hanging on by threads, barely holding. I don't even know what I’ll do if no one answers, but knowing how I feel, it’s probably something reckless.The door opens. Peter. He steps out like he wasn’t expecting me in a thousand years. “Noah? What the hell are you doing here?”“I came to get Ray,” I say, tilting my chin toward the house. “Get her for me.”He blinks. “Man, come on. Get her? She’s not a kid, she can leave when she’s ready.”“Peter.” I lock eyes with him. “Get her.”My voice isn’t lou

If shame was something that could be worn, I was wearing it. I wake, limbs tangled with Noah’s on my bed. My desperate wish that last night was all a dream, a broken, fever dream of a very desperate, desperate girl, dies the moment I see Noah still asleep, in my room, on my bed, arms thrown over my waist, holding me close. I swallow, stay perfectly still while my breath tries to escape my lungs permanently. What did we do. What did we do. I’m panicking. Oh my God. Noah and I, how could I… I feel like crying, feel like running away, but I lick my lips, blink my eyes, and start to pull out of reach, out of his arms. It’s unforgivable that even as I pulled away, even as I felt shame and regret like heat on my face, I still ached for his warmth. Still wanted it around me. I’m crazy. Absolutely crazy. What am I thinking at this moment? I need to be out of this bed before Noah wak