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If he doesn’t, this could be absolutely disastrous, both personally and professionally. I mean, I’m about to be working on his band’s documentary, which is big for both of us. If this doesn’t go how I hope it does, then that would make work incredibly awkward when he comes back from tour.
I’m either about to make the biggest fool of myself or have the best sex of my life.
My vote’s on the best sex.
There’s a knock at the door, and my heart catches in my throat. Okay, he’s here.
Time to jump.
No risk, no reward, right?
I walk briskly to the door and open it, and my breath stalls in my chest. God, has he always been this sexy? I mean, he’s always been hot, but suddenly it’s like my libido is on steroids and I want nothing more than to jump on him.
One step at a time.
“Hey, thanks for coming.”
His brow furrows in concern. “Sure. You made it seem kinda urgent. Everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. I was just hoping I could talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” he says, looking at me with all this trust in his eyes that I start to second-guess myself. What am I doing? He’s expressed more than once what my friendship means to him.
Shit. I can’t do this.
My shoulders drop and my heart aches, but I try to push it aside. This isn’t the first time I’ve been disappointed, and it likely won’t be the last.
“Want something to drink?”
“I’ll take a water.”
“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll be right back.” I watch him head to the couch, briefly admiring how his jeans hug his delicious ass, and then scamper into the kitchen and grab two glasses. I fill them with water, close my eyes, take a deep centering breath, and then head out to the living room.
Instead of sitting, Trent is admiring my view. “This is a great place.”
I smile. “Yeah, I fell in love with it instantly. It was a steal considering the view I have.”
He turns, and his smile is so magnetic, it draws me to him. I stand closer than is probably appropriate and hand him his water. My heart is racing, even if my mind has already decided I can’t pursue anything with him. We’re friends, and that means so much to him. Hell, it means so much to me too. Clearly I wasn’t thinking when I texted him earlier.
We drink our waters and stare out at the ocean a distance away. There are a couple of smaller condos and a major road that are also in the view, but now that it’s night, all you see are the glittering lights, and it looks a little magical.
“So you said you had something to talk to me about?”
Oh shit.
“Uh, yeah, you know what, it was stupid. I figured it out.”
His brow arches, and his blue eyes pierce me. My heartbeat speeds up, and I take a sip of my water, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my hands are shaking as I place my water glass on a nearby table.
“Are you okay?”
I look up at him and realize he’s moved a little closer, his own water glass sitting on the windowsill and our bodies practically touching. God, is he trying to torture me?
“I’m fine,” I say, although it comes out as a cracked whisper, and the words sound false even to my ears.
His gaze traces the lines of my face and my blood heats, my body tingling with desire so fierce it makes my knees weak. My gaze is locked on his as I watch his eyes move across my face. I wonder what he sees. Does he see the girl I was back in Texas? The girl he kissed once upon a time? Does he wish that kiss had ended differently? That we had kept going instead of stopping and laughing it off and then never talking about it again?
Does he want to kiss me now as desperately as I want to kiss him?
