Wait

He was standing in the doorway, his dirty blonde hair matted in clumps against his forehead, droplets of water rolling down his nose and cheekbones. The scent of the ocean clung to him like a second skin that he never managed to shed.

She tried not to pay any attention to him, tried so desperately not to let her eyes drift over his body, but it proved to be harder than she thought. Water pooled into a puddle at his feet, dripping from the pair of bogged down swim trunks that hung loosely on his hips. If it were anyone else, she'd be a little pissed, but some part of her just couldn't muster up the frustration to be angry with him.

Frances was trying to appear disinterested as she read her book on the window seat, but she wasn't sure if he was buying it. Acting was how he made his living, so she was almost convinced he could see right through her. She clung onto the hope that love was blind, that maybe his admiration blurred his perception of her.

Though Frances returned his feelings, she'd never let him know. The timing was just never right for them to be together; he was often away filming his show, and she had persuaded herself long ago that she was too busy with school to get into a relationship.

But love didn't follow a schedule; it always came too early or too late.

A part of her knew that she was lying to herself, she just didn't want to come to terms with the real reason she denied her feelings for Kendall. She didn't want to get hurt, and to truly be in a relationship with someone, you had to expose the deepest, most genuine part of yourself and trust that your partner wouldn't take advantage of that vulnerability. Frances wasn't at that point yet.

She caught a glimpse of his bare arms from the corner of her vision, and her mind trailed off imagining what it would be like to feel them wrapped around her. She could hear the pad of his wet feet against the hardwood floor, but she still didn't look up at him. Those blue-green eyes would make her melt in an instant.

The squawk of the seagulls gathered outside the window startled Frances from her thoughts, and she immediately looked to Kendall.

“Hey,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, raspy from not being used all morning. His features softened as they made eye contact, his stare became a little less intense and the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a faint smile.

“Hey,” she replied, returning his smile. She slowly folded down the page she had left off on and closed the book, tucking it into the corner of the window seat. She automatically sat up, leaving a space for him to join her.

The cushion dampened as soon as Kendall sat down, but neither of them seemed to notice. They both sat staring at their laps, two hearts pounding in two chests, two pairs of palms growing clammy, two sets of lungs slowly expanding and collapsing with every breath. Time seemed to stretch out in front of them, it was just a matter of who would make that first move.

Kendall was the first to break the silence.

“So…” his voice trailed off as he tried to ease the awkward tension. “Where we gonna go from here?”

She hesitated before answering. “I'm not sure.”

A drawn-out sigh escaped his lips. “I'm just so tired of being stuck. All I want is to just be with you, Frances. Why can't you see that?” He couldn't look at her as he spoke, his eyes focused on the creases and marks on his knuckles.

“I know…I know.” For once, she was at a loss for words, so instead, she relied on her actions, gently pressing her lips against his as she grasped his damp hand in hers.

Every bone in her body and every voice in her head was telling her to stay away, but in her heart, she knew that she couldn't wait any longer.