Sienna looks briefly horrified. “Of course I don’t. I spend enough time around testosterone-fueled idiots, I wouldn’tinvite one into my home.”
I snort a laugh. “You make it sound like someone mailed you nuclear waste.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” she mutters. “Explain it to me.”
I give Emory a pleading glance, but she just snorts a laugh and raises her brows. “Go ahead, killer. Tell us why it’s not weird and how much you don’t want Tristan.”
I blow out a long breath. “I do want him.”
There’s silence, then a gull cries, then Sienna screeches, “Youwhat?”
Emory is laughing, burying her head in the cushion, her shoulders shaking.
“Of course I want him. He’s objectively attractive. I’m not aliar.” Despite my nonchalance, admitting that I want Tristan feels like I’m cliff-diving into the ocean.
“But you’ve never acted on it.” Sienna’s eyes widen before she sits up in a rush. “Or have you acted on it? Oh my god, have you been hooking up and you didn’t—”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Just—of courseI want him. Inoticed he was hot on the first day I met him. I might not get out much, but I’m not blind.”
Emory nods. “He’s tall. Smart. Bigger than Aiden. If you’re into that.” Her tone of voice makes it clear that her husband is her ideal man, and I smile to myself.
Sienna’s brow wrinkles. “I guess he’s the most conventionally attractive of my brothers.”
I wriggle my toes on the cushion and try to think about how to explain that he makes my stomach swoop but also that the swoop will never turn into anything more.
“So what do you do?” Emory asks. “You thought he was hot. He’s helping you date. Now what?”
“Nothing.” I shrug.
My friends stare at me. “Nothing,” Sienna echoes.
I chuck a grape at her, and she ducks quickly. “Guys. Come on. We danced. I met a guy. Tristan met someone too. This is not a thing.”
Sienna’s face wrinkles. “He picked someone up when he was out with you?”
“Of course he did,” I exclaim. “Marriage, remember? He’s meeting two more women today.”
Sienna looks briefly murderous. She is not taking the thought of a stranger in the family well.
Before she can argue, I hold up a hand. “Yes, on occasion I notice that he’s attractive. And yes, dancing with him felt good. But also isn’t that how it is whenever you’re friends with a hot guy? Like…there’s always a little part of you that wonders, you know?” I look between them.This is how everyone feels, right?
“Is there?” Emory asks.
“Of course there is. And usually that part is pretty small. And sometimes it’s bigger.”
“What if it grows?” Sienna asks quietly.
My stomach leaps. It grew when we danced. “You just don’t let it.”
When I woke up this morning, I went for a run alone and I did all the mental exercises I do when I need to center myself. I finished refreshed and ready tonot let itall over again.
I’m practical, not fanciful. I’ll be fine.
Emory gives me a skeptical look. “You don’t let it? That’s the secret?”
I trace patterns on the cushion’s smooth surface. “You have to keep it from growing. Or you can’t be friends.”
“And that’s better.” Sienna cocks her head.
