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Trying to act casual, I watch as Charlie bends down, taking the roasting pan out of the oven. The muscles in his arms tense and define from the heavy weight of the dish. He bends over, and his own T-shirt slides up as his jeans hang down just enough to reveal the top of his black boxer briefs and lower back dimples.
I shouldn’t, but I do. My eyes linger, following the lines of the muscles on his sides that lead to his abdomen. A couple of drops of tea land on my chest, and I startle.
“Missed your mouth.”
Flustered, I look up and see him pointing at my chest. Embarrassed, I become defensive to stop the nonsensical emotion. “Yes, I guess I did. My mind is on other things tonight.”
So confident and cocky . . . and sexy, he asks, “Like me?”
“You’re not going to get me to blush tonight.” I snap at him, my words clipped. I’m well aware that I was the one busted this time.
Charlie walks close, so close, and drops his arms forward on either side of me. He’s trapped me between them, and although I shouldn’t want this with a friend, I do with him. I want it more than I should. I love being this close to him, but instead of giving in, I hold my own, standing my ground—shoulders back, straight face in place. His head moves even closer to mine, but he keeps our bodies apart on purpose.
“I bet I can.”
I stare into his blue eyes. My heart is pounding in my chest as his breath hits my face. I like that I can smell a trace of mint. It makes me think he freshened up just for me. I often find myself reacting to him in ways that I wouldn’t to others. Maybe it’s because I like these games we play, the ones that involve our heads and our hearts.
“I dare you.”
His lips are on mine as soon as the words leave my mouth.
I want to kiss him back. I want to lose myself in him and this kiss and the moment, but my heart is still pounding, and the fear of losing him as my friend wins out. I tilt my head down, leaning forward and resting my forehead on his shoulder for a moment, feeling the heat between us overwhelming me, and take a deep breath. Hoping to clear my head of these thoughts of more with him, I duck under his arm and scurry into the living room.
I don’t stop until I’m on the balcony in the warm air of the evening. Is a cool breeze too much to ask for? I need to douse this fire burning inside me. A cool breeze should help me wrangle these crazy ideas that are shouting inside my head to be heard. Ideas that maybe, just maybe, I should risk our friendship and date him, or at least kiss him some more. But it’s August, so I’m out of luck.
Bending forward over the railing, I close my eyes and take another deep breath.
“I can’t back down from a dare,” he says from behind me.
“You cheated.” I don’t look at him. I’m teetering on that line, and seeing him, seeing his handsome face will weaken my stance. I’ll ruin everything by jumping him, and that won’t be good for either of us. Couch snuggles, Saturday afternoon cupcakes, beer, and movies I watch just because he wants to—all of it will be gone if I don’t control myself.
“How so?” he asks, joining me, a safe distance separating us. His back is to the railing as he watches me, waiting for me to say something that will argue the fact that he made me blush.
If I were being honest with myself, he lit a blaze, not just a blush, but that’s too much reality for me to admit.
“That was a cheap shot.” I shift onto my right foot and try to hold steady, though I’m unnerved.
“It wasn’t a shot. It was a chance I took.”
“I don’t like being used to prove a point.”
“Who said I was using you or proving a point?” He inches closer, keeping his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps are distracting as he advertises them so flagrantly in front of me.
“You weren’t?” I ask. I already know the answer. “You took advantage of the fact that I haven’t been kissed in a long time. It’s been forever, which is too long. I think it’s been since you, if you must know. So throwing temptation like that in front of me is cheating, not to mention that you knew exactly how to get the reaction you wanted.” I huff defiantly.
“I kissed you because—” The sound of a knock on the door interrupts us. “I’ll be right back.”
I find relief in the distance between us, but I’m disappointed I don’t know what he was going to say. I’m so screwed up when it comes to him. I’ve had so many new feelings, maybe old feelings—the ones that I tamped down months ago. Like Charlie, I can’t ignore them any longer.
