Next to You (Next, #2)

by Hannah Bonam-Young

Anxiety creeps up in many forms, but most often, it feels like exhaustion. I’m an electric vehicle running on two AA batteries. Sure, it could run for a little while – but it’s not a permanent solution.

I’ve never slept over or even considered a future with anyone I’ve been with. But for the last year, it’s been a near constant stirring. An under-current of wanting that I haven’t been able to satisfy – and haven’t bothered to try. It’s a person out of reach when all you need is a hug.

But lately, when I’m watching my friends in their little bubbles of giddy love, it feels like maybe I’ve actually wanted it all along. Possibly so much so that I’ve rejected the idea to make it easier on myself. Bracing for the inevitable loneliness by giving up early. Because it can’t happen. I won’t let it.

‘Are you flirting with me?’ I ask. Or at least I think I do. His soft, single laugh surprises me. ‘For more than a year now. Thanks for noticing.’ He kisses next to my ear.

‘I love you, Lane. I want you to know that, even if it changes nothing. It should change nothing. But it matters to me that you know. I know you don’t want me to wait – but I can’t imagine a world in which this feeling just goes away.’

‘Because I hate making decisions.’ ‘Why?’ Her lips press together until they’re tight and pale. ‘Because it feels selfish – to decide what I want for myself.’