When he looks up at me, I feel the air charged between us, and his words have a contradictory mixture of heaviness and lightness. Like whipped cream. So light and fluffy but decidedly full of calories. “Sounds good. I don’t want to lose our friendship either.”
“Does that mean you’ll do the calendar?”
Unamused, he chuckles. “I do not follow that leap of logic.”
“Just um…” I nibble my bottom lip and feel his eyes pick up on the movement. “Just that you’re my friend and friends help each other.”
“Sure.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to say—or do—more, but then he pushes himself off the wall.
And I don’t know if I’m disappointed or relieved that he didn’t do what he was going to do. All I know is that I do feel like I need to curl up in a good blanket right now. Not sure what that means.
“Okay. See you tomorrow then. Be ready.”
“Yup.” But he’s off grabbing his water bottle. “I’m gonna do another set.”
A beat passes.
“What? You gonna watch?”
Oh ya. About that. C’mon feet, let’s go.
“Oh, no.” Fake chuckle. “See ya.”
Smooth. Real smooth, Summer. It’s super clear that you don’t want to date him and that you just want to ogle him. Since when? And um…when will these urges go away? Possibly when I photograph half-naked men all day tomorrow. Yup. That should do it.
