I didn't know what it was about midnight.

Something about the pale light of the moon, or the intoxicating thrill of being awake until the next day that didn't dissipate, despite never going to bed before midnight anymore. Maybe it was because I'd tried to sleep for almost an hour—Knight and Kaelin were already snoring lightly beside me—and all I'd managed to do was tangle the sheets around my legs.

Everyone had been tired after the festivities of the previous night. After Daria's second birthday cake had been passed around, half of our friends had immediately passed out. I was equally as exhausted, but I couldn't coax my mind into exhaustion.

But something within me was unsettled. My mind hadn't stopped whirling since I'd left the beach; Daria's words echoing like a broken record in my mind. It doesn't look like it means nothing.

I looked up at the ceiling. It means nothing. Does it mean nothing? It means nothing. But does it? I harrumphed in annoyance, blowing a strand of hair away from my face. It seemed that the plaster above me had no answers for my questions. Deeply inconsiderate of it.

Kicking at the blankets around my legs, I sat upright with a sigh. Sleep was not coming any time soon, it seemed.

I was not the kind of girl who believed in inaction. I needed to act, to react. I couldn't simply have an epiphany and sit with it, mull it over. I needed to address it immediately. Sleep would not come to me tonight because, in the quiet stillness of midnight, I had come to realise something.

I maybe kind of sort of liked Jace Hartley. And not just as a friend.

I had no idea how, exactly, I felt about him. All I knew was that he had kissed me, on three separate occasions, and all I could think about when he was around was if we would have the chance to do it again.

With a groan of frustration, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I knew what I was going to do, but I already hated myself for it a little bit.

I padded to the door, giving one cursory glance backwards to ensure that Kaelin and Knight were still asleep, before slipping out into the hallway. The Air BnB had four rooms, and was designed to sleep twelve. There were only ten of us, and no one wanted to miss out on the fun by being stuck in a room alone, so the master bedroom sat empty.

Jace was bunking with Callie and Daria; the two girls shared the double bed, and Jace was in the accompanying single bed. Their room was next to mine. I hesitated for a moment, my hand resting on the doorknob to Jace's room. Did I have to do this? Could I wait until tomorrow, next week, never? Then I thought about lying awake for hours, asking all of these questions to an unhearing ceiling, and I twisted the knob.

The room was dark. I could just make out the steady rise and fall of Daria's chest; Callie was facing away from me, toward the window. Jace's bed was at the far end of the room. He was still and silent.

I didn't have to wake him up. I could leave the room, steal out and return to the warmth of my bed. I knew I would regret this later. But I still stepped further into the room.

I almost immediately tripped over Callie's suitcase, cursing under my breath as the sound reverberated in the silent room. Callie stirred slightly, mumbling something under her breath that sounded suspicious like Alex's name, before falling back into a gentle slumber. I exhaled softly, trying to make as little noise as possible, before creeping over to Jace's bedside.

Now, how to wake Jace in the least terrifying and uncreepy manner? I didn't want him to wake up screaming bloody murder, alerting the girls. Because, really, how could I explain my presence at the Jace's bedside in the middle of the night? Sorry, girls, I was looking for a phone charger under Hartley's pillow. I didn't think they—or Daria, at least—would buy it.

I put my hand forward. My hand hovered over Jace's shoulder. I could go forward, or I could retreat. I could change everything about my relationship, my friendship, with Jace Hartley, or I could slink back to bed, hiding from the truth I could no longer to deny.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook lightly. "Hey, Jace?"

He stirred slightly, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. He had gorgeous eyelashes, really, for a boy. The kind of envied. Long and delicate, gently brushing against the tops of his cheekbones. They would almost be pretty, if you could apply such a word to a guy who looked like Hartley; tall and handsome, gorgeous in the sunlight and beautiful in the moonlight.

Oh, god. I really did like him, didn't I?

"Jace?" I whispered.

His eyes were bleary as he peaked them open. "Lena?" he replied, his voice croaky and thick with sleep. As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, recognition began to dawn as understanding crept into his expression. He began to sit up slowly. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?"

There was an urgency in his gaze. Of course he thought something was wrong; what other reason would he have to think I'd seek him out during the night? Nothing I'd ever done would indicate to Jace that I would wake him up to... what, talk?

"Uh, I'm sorry," I said, backing away from the edge of his bed. His golden eyes were luminous and clear, the drowsiness dissipated completely as he watched me. "This was a mistake. You should go back to bed."

I turned and left the room, almost running, as quietly as I could. The corridors were wooden, and I had to make a concentrated effort to avoid creaky floorboards. I slipped downstairs to the kitchen, where I could make noise without waking the others. I was breathing heavily as I bent over the sink, turning on the taps to throw water over my face.

What had I been thinking? What was I going to do, wake Jace and tell him I was confused and desperate and strangely lonely. That I had no idea what I thought or felt about him, but could he please kiss me again, because if I knew anything, it was that I wanted that? I couldn't say that. Jace was my friend, we were friends, and I didn't know what he wanted, but it was not that.

I had known I would regret it, but the hollow feeling at the pit of my stomach was something I hadn't expected. It felt surprisingly like rejection, though Hartley hadn't said anything of the sort. And he couldn't reject me. And I had no feelings to reject. I liked the feeling of Hartley's lips on mine, and the sound of his laughter and the glint of gold in his hair; but I didn't like him, like him.

"It wasn't a mistake," came Jace's voice from behind me.

I whirled around. Jace was wearing a white shirt and grey tracksuit pants, and his hair was mussed from the pillow.

I grinned mirthlessly at him. "You don't know what my mistake was."

"I don't need to," said Jace firmly. "Whatever it was, it wasn't a mistake. Not going through with it; that would be the mistake."

"I kissed you," I said abruptly.

Jace looked amused. "I know. I was there."

"Did we ever revisit the conversation about you not quitting your day job to pursue comedy?" I asked. "Because I'm just reminding you; you should not do that."

"Did we ever have a conversation about you avoiding the question?" Jace challenged. "Because I think you should just be straightforward for once."

I couldn't look at him as I spoke. Couldn't handle the rejection in his eyes if he wasn't on the same page as me.

"I kissed you three times."

"Did they finally teach you to count?" said Jace. He was grinning, but there was something he antagonistic in his tone.

My chest bubbled with resentment. "Oh, so now that I'm trying to tell you something, tell you something because you've been nice to me; now you go back to being snippy?"

Jace looked chastened. He held a hand up to my cheek apologetically. "I'm sorry, Elle. I didn't know what you were going to say, and if it was bad, I wanted to get in first." He shrugged. "I'm sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you been going to therapy? That sounds like a therapist apology."

"Not exactly," said Jace. His grin was a little abashed, though. "Uh, football team mandated counselling."

I laughed quietly, the sound echoing in the tiled kitchen. Jace's head was tilted slightly, his gaze open and curious. I took a deep breath. "I kissed you three times, and despite everything I have said otherwise; I liked it."

"So, is this little rendezvous for a debrief on my kissing skills?" said Jace with scepticism. "Because, you know, when you kissed me a second time, I kind of got the impression that you didn't hate it."

I ploughed a hand through my hair. This was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do, to admit. I had lived in a world of denial since that first day, when he'd been furious and it had called to something deep inside me. And that is what I'd told myself; it was the heat of the moment, that fiery, molten hot rage that gave way to something else. The second time, I'd told myself that it was vodka and embarrassment and a need to escape. The third time; that was harder to justify. The moment had hardly been heated and spurred on. It had been soft and gentle and sweet and had felt something like being safe; like forever. Like a feeling I had no words to describe.

"I liked it, and I can't stop thinking about it," I said softly. "And I want to do it again."

Jace's eyes melted. "You do?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "I know that we're friends now, and I don't want to mess that up." Jace nodded slightly, his movements slow and careful, as if he were standing next to a deadly animal and didn't wish to disturb the peace. He was careful and patient. I took a deep breath and continued. "But a few weeks ago, you asked me to tell you what we would have to be to do it again, and I'm telling you that all we have to be is this, because I need to do it again and I don't think I care about the ramifications."

I couldn't say I liked him. Couldn't even figure out if I did like him, or if I just liked the way he kissed me. But I could admit this; my back ramrod straight, my chin tilted upwards in defiance, as if to say, you can reject me and I won't care. But I did care, so very much.

And that's why it was a relief when he grabbed my arm and pulled me into him, tucking my head beneath his chin as his arms came around me, his face buried into the curls at the top of my head. The circle of his arms was warm, and comforting, and I smiled into his chest as he played with a curl at the end of my hair. "I didn't realise hugs were on the table too," I said, my voice muffled into his chest.

Jace tilted my chin up, his eyes boring into mine. "They are," he said firmly. Then he smiled. "I like being this." And then his lips slanted over mine, and the rest of the world fell away.

This is what I'd wanted, exactly what I had wanted, since the first moment we kissed, and a strange feeling of rightness centred me. To kiss Jace Hartley with no pretences, no walls, no excuses; just the simple truth that I wanted it, and I would cling to it with both hands.

My hands were raking through his hair, pulling him down, pulling him closer, as my body pressed upwards so that every line of mine was pressed against every line of his.

I could feel him smiling slightly against me; clearly Jace had wanted this too.

When I pulled away from him and grinned, it was almost shy. "C'mon," I said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind me. He was stumbling slightly and grinning and I was giggling and giddy.

I pulled him up the stairs, stopping halfway to press him against the banister and press a light kiss just behind his ear, and I smirked when he shivered against me. "You can't just do that," said Jace, his eyes dark.

I winked, and continued climbing the stairs. "Watch me."

"Believe me, I'm watching," he said, following me up.

On the first left once we were atop the staircase, the master bedroom sat empty. I grabbed Hartley's arm and dragged him in, laughing slightly under my breath. Jace's eyes were wide as I pulled him to me again, stepping back so that I was against the door and he was pressing into me.

"Elle?" said Jace carefully, almost with disbelief. That hand came up again to flick the ends of my curls, as if it were the only tangible reality Jace could find. "You didn't finish explaining what you meant."

"Yeah, I did," I said, pulling him down to kiss me again.

And he did, languid, confident, exploratory. Then he pulled back again. "There may be some ground we still have to cover," he said. "Because I'm still confused about what exactly you want from me."

"Just this," I whispered. And when I pulled him down again, he had nothing else to say.

He kissed me, and it sent every fibre of my being careening. I had never reacted to anyone the way I reacted to Jace. His hands were both gentle and desperate, soft and punishing. The feeling in my gut was indescribable, was calling out; I didn't just like the way he kissed me, I liked him. I liked him so much I thought I could burst with it. I would never again hate Jace Hartley. How could I, when the sight of his face and the feeling of his hand as it grazed my side hurt my heart?

But we were just friends. I mean, for gods sake, he had been on a date with Callie so recently. And McKenna; I mean, the love between them was palpable. Other girls existed on the periphery of Jace's life; I was just the girl who had hated him, who was now his friend, and who woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him I needed him to kiss me. There were a thousand reasons why not, and a thousand reasons why never, and I just wanted to drown them out; wanted them to stop existing in this moment.

I pulled him over to the bed, smiling cheekily, lying back to pull him down over me. We'd lain like this only a few weeks ago, when he'd pulled me onto the roof. He obliged easily, and the smile I saw on his face was one of surprised awe, of divine reverence. His fingertip traced the planes of my face, running along my cheekbone, the curve of my jaw, as if enraptured by it.

I smiled slowly. "Hey," I whispered.

"Hey," he whispered back. "Whatever this is, I like it."

"Me too."

I bent up to kiss him slowly, tenderly, and I couldn't help but smile. All of those reasons didn't matter; not right now. Only this mattered.

We stayed like that for a while. It could have been hours, or it could have been seconds, or it could have been eternity. Kissing slowly, then kissing faster. Everything was Jace; every thought, every feeling. It was late before he finally pulled away, and the smile on his face was gentle. "Hey," he said again.

"Yeah?"

"It's late," he said, brushing the hair away from my forehead with a soft touch. "And you need to sleep."

"Okay," I whispered.

I saw the question in his eyes. What do you want me to do? I couldn't answer him; couldn't put words to it. Asking him to kiss me was one thing, but asking for this was another. So, I didn't ask. I just held his wrist and fluttered my eyelashes closed, asking without asking. Stay.

And as I drifted off to sleep, I felt Jace lying beside me, his arm slung across my waist gently, and the hard warmth of his body against me was comforting as I let the darkness take me.