by Adams, Sarah
“What do you think happened?” I ask him, clutching the front of his shirt in case it was a serial killer who cut the lights and the music and is about to have his way with us.
Nathan lets out a grumpy sigh and slowly lowers me to the ground. Through his teeth, he says, “Seems like the house blew a fuse.”
What terrible timing. It feels like someone tossed us into freezing cold water. Our magical moment is over.
In the next moment, we hear Jamal’s voice boom through the house. Something about it sounds oddly monotone, robotic, and almost…rehearsed. “Oh no. Looks like we blew a fuse! I guess we’ll have to light some candles. Nathan, you around here? Need a candle, buddy?”
Nathan mutters something under his breath, and it sounds oddly like, “Thunder-seeking jackass.”
He’s still holding me. His fingers are still clamped onto me like the prongs of a bear trap. There’s a desperation in his hold that matches the one in my heart. I want to ask him a million and two questions. I want to bombard him with declarations. But my mouth won’t open and reality sinks back in around us.
My soul is shaking.
I know a whole new side of Nathan now, and I don’t ever want to go back to what we were.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty!”
I crack open my eyes to Bree hovering over the side of my bed. Her curls are tied up in a high ponytail and draping over the side of her face. The apples of her cheeks are splotched with pink, and I wonder if I’m still dreaming. I have to be. Why would Bree be in my room right now? The sun isn’t out. She’s a figment of my imagination.
I stare at her. What’s Dream Bree going to do?
She smiles, and I mirror her. If she raises her hand, I’ll raise mine too. Her soft brows crinkle together, and so do my bushier ones. This makes her laugh. “You’re being weird. Come on, get up! It’s Tuesday.”
I really hope this dream ends with us not going on a run. I glance at the clock on my bedside table and it says 5:00 AM. Now I know I’m still asleep. Bree is always trying to get me to sleep in, so she wouldn’t wake me up before 5:30.
It’s best if I just settle in and see what happens. I put my arms behind my head and watch her as she crosses my room to paw through my chest of drawers. She selects a black Nike t-shirt and grey athletic shorts. A balled-up pair of socks hits me in the face. I don’t flinch. Bree moves to stand at the foot of my bed, her eyes roaming over me. All that’s showing is my chest and abdomen, but Dream Bree likes what she sees. The pink splotches turn to red apples. Variety: Delicious. She’s wearing my favorite pair of short turquoise running shorts and a black tank top, neon yellow sports bra underneath. She puts her hands on her fantastic curvy hips.
I love dreaming. Because in here, there are no boundaries. No friend zones. Just me and Bree as we should be.
“You look like someone should be fanning you and feeding you grapes. What are you waiting for?” she asks curiously.
“Come around here and find out.” I’m sexy in my dreams.
Those brown eyes widen, but she complies. Her sneakers squeak a little with every step. Then she’s standing beside me, and I reach out and take her hand. Warm skin.
Oh no.
THAT’S REAL SKIN, PEOPLE!
This is not Dream Bree. This is real-life, actual-consequences-if-I-pull-her-under-the-covers-with-me Bree. And I need to quickly backtrack.
I look up and see her swallow her nerves. I feel her hand trembling in mine. We might have kissed the other night, but this is different. This is alone. In my room. I have no excuses here for talking dirty or holding her hand—and what I had planned just now is definitely not on the romance cheat sheet.
I tug her down a little so her shoulders hunch toward me, and then I pretend to flick something off. “I thought you had a spider on you. It was a piece of lint.”
“And you were just going to wait all day for it to bite me?” She slaps my bare shoulder. Crisis averted. “Some friend you are.”
Okay, time to switch gears. My brain is in a fog, but I force myself to clear it out. I sit up straighter and throw the covers off, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed so I can rub my hands over my face. My breath is rank. That should have been clue number one that this is real life.
“What are you doing here this early?” I ask her, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes. I stand up and stretch.
“I couldn’t sleep. So I thoughtwecouldgoonarunearly…” All of her words end in a pileup.
Turning to her, I see her unblinking gaze locked on my body. Right. I sleep in boxer briefs. Kinda forgot about that when I stood up. Bree looks like she’s in some sort of pain. Her mouth is still open, unfinished words dangling off her tongue.
I step toward her, trying not to smile. “Bree?”
She’s that famous painting now. She doesn’t move, but her eyes follow me around the room. “I shouldn’t be seeing you like this.”
“Probably not.” I don’t normally feel embarrassed in my underwear. I’m pretty used to my own nudity at this point. I’ve done ads for Jockey underwear, and also, you know, that whole form issue thing where I was completely naked. But this is Bree, the woman of my dreams, staring me down in an intimate way I don’t think anyone else ever has before. It’s like she’s matching puzzle pieces together to finally see the whole picture. Nathan loves strawberry Twizzlers + ah, that’s where his tan lines live. It’s unnerving.
“You’re…” Her words end there. She’s yet to look at my face.
Before I can stop it, embarrassment slides over me. I feel my face heating. “Can I have my clothes?” I extend my hand toward the bundle she’s clutching, but she holds it up and away from me.
“Not yet.”
I sputter a laugh because I don’t know what else to do. She’s ogling me. Very openly. This is new—and I’m not sure how to proceed. This is not on the list. “Do you think I’ll get them any time soon?”
“I suspect so, but the jury is still out.” She sounds like someone hit her with a tranquilizing dart.
“Okay, enough.” I step forward to take my clothes, but she holds them behind her back. She’s not going to let me have them. “What are you doing?” I ask, sounding just as amused and confused as I am.
“I don’t know.” Her eyes are bright. Excited. Fearful.
Our kiss the other night is humming intensely between us.
“Can I…” Her words hesitate again, and she sounds like she’s trying to keep all the air in her lungs. “I just want to…”
I suck in a noisy breath when Bree steps closer, raises her hand, and presses it onto my pectoral muscle. The palm of her warm hand is directly over my heart, and I know she can feel it knocking against her skin. I raise a brow and tell everything in my body NOT TO REACT. She swallows, staring at the place her hand is touching me, and then she abruptly breaks contact, foists my clothes into my arms, and dashes through the room toward the door.
“GREAT. MEET YOU DOWNSTAIRS.” My bedroom door gets slammed shut.
The front door slams next.
I blink and look down at my crumpled running clothes. “What. The. Hell. Was. That?”
I’m pacing the sidewalk outside Nathan’s apartment. Up and down I go, back and forth. I’m contemplating just taking off running and never coming back, because…I just touched him. Nathan. Nathan’s bare body. I reached my greedy little hand right out and felt the man up. What was I thinking?! (I was thinking he was ripped, that’s what!) It was so forward of me! I might as well have taken spray paint to his wall and wrote I LOVE YOU NATHAN with a big heart around it!
The sun is peeking over the horizon just as Nathan exits his apartment building. I whip my head away from him. I can’t meet his eyes yet. I know I should be mature and apologize for what I did back there, but I prefer being childish and pretending it never happened instead.
“Ready?” I ask, bobbing my gaze anywhere and everywhere besides in the direction of his face. “Let’s go!”
I take off at a bri
sk jog and he has no choice but to catch up. In two seconds flat he’s beside me. His gaze is heavy on the side of my face, I can feel it, and I want to scream I DON’T KNOW, OKAY?! I don’t know what I was doing back there! I’m in love with my best friend, and I’ve been hiding it from him for ten zillion years, and now all of a sudden I’m deciding to not hide it and see what happens, but I’m too scared to own it, and what if he doesn’t love me back! *insert giant inhale here*
See? I’m losing it! I’ve lost too many fries from my Happy Meal!
“Hey, might want to slow down,” says Nathan, taking my forearm to tug me lightly. “We’ll burn out if we start in a sprint.” But his touch feels like positive and negative connectors to my dead battery—it jolts me to life and now I want to take off like Speedy Gonzales. “Seriously, Bree. Slow up. We haven’t even had our coffee yet. Why are we running before coffee and donuts, anyway?”
Good question. Answer: because I’m everything all wrong and backward today. I woke up this morning like it was Christmas. TUESDAY! It’s been two whole sleeps since our kiss in the hallway, which was also the last time I saw Nathan. I’ve been busy with dance and he’s been busy with practice and a photo shoot after practice yesterday, so basically, I’ve been dying. (Not to be dramatic.) But when my eyes popped open this morning (at 4:30 AM), I couldn’t wait any longer—I had to see him. I had to see if all the heat and zings I experienced during that kiss were still there or if he was faking it for the dating facade. I highly doubt it though. He’s a terrible liar—also so fun to play poker with—so I’m thinking he’s into me.
Now, before, this would have sent me screaming in a frenzy and overanalyzing every move he makes. Not the new Bree. The new Bree isn’t worried that Nathan is only into me as a passing fancy. The new Bree isn’t even thinking about that (yes, I am). The new Bree is going with the flow! Seeing where this sexy little fling takes me. LAYING IT ON THICK!
I force myself to slow down so I can toss him a normal smile. He frowns, so it probably wasn’t so normal. “Just wasn’t in the mood for donuts.”
“You’re unwell,” he states flatly, so shocked. I couldn’t have told a worse fib. “Come on, let’s take it easy today and go down to the beach.” He veers left, and I have no choice but to follow.
We jog together down a boardwalk and kick off our running shoes when we reach the sand. It’s so early in the morning that the air is still chilly, and the beach is relatively empty. No one is here to watch us or take photos—which makes it all the more startling when Nathan intertwines our fingers and pulls me with him down toward the water. We both stand so that the tide can wash over our feet and ankles. The icy water prickles my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of holding Nathan’s strong hand.
He audibly sighs, making me look up at him. His wavy brown hair flutters around his brow, and the salty air makes the strands at his nape flip up with an extra ounce of rebellion. The wind catches his t-shirt, pushing and pulling it around his abdomen, once again drawing my attention to his perfectly sculpted form. A soft smile curls the side of his mouth as he stares out over the water where the sun is just starting its day.
“I miss the ocean,” he says quietly, and then he looks down at me. “We don’t come down here enough.” His dark features are a direct contrast to the soft blue sky behind him, and yet they somehow complement each other perfectly.
“Life is busy.”
Well, truthfully, his life is busy. Mine is too, but it’s a different sort. I have built-in breaks and days where I kick back and watch TV for no good reason in the middle of the afternoon. I don’t work myself to the bone like he does.
I blink back toward the water. “Confession…I was down here yesterday morning.”
“You were?”
I shrug.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice sounds sad.
I point up at his face. “That’s why! You turn into a sad puppy when you find out I’ve done fun things without you. I don’t like to rub it in when I know it’s not something you can swing.”
His hand squeezes mine and he pivots slightly to look down at me. “That’s very sweet on your part—and super pathetic on mine.”
I chuckle. “You don’t like to be left out. Nothing wrong with that.” I stare up into his eyes, feeling the space between us close a fraction. The same magnets that pulled us together in that hallway are working now. His thumb glides up and down my hand. I ache to tell him how perfect this feels between us.
“You’re not annoyed by my faults?” he asks, sounding perfectly serious.
“I don’t see it as a fault. It’s just you. Sort of how you never tell me to sort the piles of random crap in my apartment.”
He grins softly. “Who am I to mess up your system?”
“See, that’s why we work so well together. Best f—” I cut myself off and clamp my mouth shut. No more constant reminders of our friendship. I want more. And I’m pretty sure the first step is not claiming an old label.
He hums in suspicious amusement at my cutoff sentence. Then his eyes crinkle in the corners. “Well, you’re right. I don’t like missing out on fun with you. So let’s go swimming now.”
I shriek at that thought. “No way! It’s going to be so cold, and—AH!”
Nathan scoops me up in his arms and runs full steam ahead into the water. I scream and kick and think he’ll stop at the last moment and tell me he’s only kidding then take me back up to the beach. Nope. He dunks us both under the frigid water. The temperature can’t be more than 60 degrees, and I’m going to murder him! But when we resurface and he flashes me his sunshine smile, I lose my rage. He is happiness embodied. He is also sexiness embodied. His dark, wet shirt molds to him, and water droplets slide from his hair down that square jaw.
I bet I just look like a wet cat.
Nathan eyes me and my shivering body, and my suspicions are confirmed about how I look when he chuckles. “Are you cold?”
I glare at him. “No, I’m incredibly w-w-w-warm, you jerk!”
“Awww, I’m sorry. Come here.” He stretches out his long corded arm and pulls me up close to him, wrapping both arms around me as we are swayed by the water. I’m pressed against the hard planes of his body, and now I don’t feel so cold anymore. It’s a miracle!
I swallow, wondering for the hundredth time in the span of a few days what this is, what it means…
“Hey,” Nathan says, breaking through my thoughts and pushing my sticky wet hairs back from my face. “Are you happy, Bree?” His eyes trace the line of my mouth. I don’t know what this moment is exactly, but it feels important. My heart trembles.
“Very. Are you?” My gaze darts to his mouth and back up.
“Right now? Yes. I’m always happy when I’m with you.”
My lips part on an inhale. We’re going to kiss again. I can see it in his eyes, can feel it in his fingertips pressing me closer to him. The waves splash against our sides, and I wrap my arms around his neck, rising up on tiptoe to reach him. Our lips are just about to meet when Nathan’s head turns abruptly to the side.
For one terrible second, I think he just rejected me. I’m ready to slip away from him and swim into the ocean, never to return again, when he pivots both of our bodies so his back is to the shore. His eyes are stormy now when they look down at me.
“Paparazzi found us. A guy with a long lens is hunched down by the boardwalk snapping photos.”
“Oh!” I say in a relieved rush, happy to know I don’t have to become queen of the crustaceans. “That’s…bad? I thought we wanted paparazzi to see us being coupley?”
Nathan shifts me behind him, ducking his head and shielding me as much as he can as we make our way out of the water. Which I’m beyond grateful for since my clothes are practically painted on my body right now and that’s really not the image I want my dad to see when he’s shopping for milk at the grocery store tomorrow.
When Nathan’s voice reaches me, low and quiet, I almost think I’ve heard hi
m wrong. “Yeah, but that was when it was just fake.”
Nathan and I are soaking wet and jogging back to the apartment. The paparazzi was relentless, following behind us all the way down the boardwalk, snapping away even when Nathan asked him to stop. Nathan’s jaw was flexing in a way that made me worried for his teeth, and he kept his arm tucked protectively around me until we were back to the main sidewalk and could head back to his place.
This time, he seems determined to run at the breakneck speed I was encouraging earlier to get us back to privacy. Only problem, I’m now wearing sloshing clothes that I’m sure are going to leave a terrible chafe on my inner thighs. I feel like I’m running in weights. Sure, Thor over there runs in weighted vests all the time. Not this gal, though, so I am horribly unprepared for this level of physical endurance. It also doesn’t help that my mind keeps wandering back to what Nathan said in the water. That was when it was only fake.
Because it’s not now?
The next thing I know, I’m tripping over my own feet and hitting the pavement hard. Instinct has me protecting my bad knee by landing mostly on my good one, my hands, and my elbows. Everything stings—but nothing as bad as my pride.
I curl up in a ball and wrap my arms around my smarting knee as Nathan crumples down beside me. “Bree! Are you okay?” He’s fussing over every inch of me. “You’re bleeding. How’s your other knee?” He immediately assesses it like he’s a doctor and knows what he’s looking for.
“It’s okay. I didn’t land on it.” Tears fill my eyes, making me feel like an idiot. I don’t want to cry in public over a few scrapes, but my body seems to have other plans. “I’m fine, Nathan! Just look away for a second!”
“Why?” His voice is tender, which only heightens my emotional state.
I cover my face with my hands. “So I can cry like a little baby.”
He doesn’t laugh, but he does smile softly. He takes my face in his hands and forces my leaking eyes to meet his. “Bree, you can always cry with me.”