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“I’ve been feeling something as well,” I said.
“Really?” she asked skeptically. “Are you just saying that? Is this you trying to make me feel better and less humiliated.”
I laughed. “Really. I’ve felt the same way. I wasn’t mad about that kiss.”
“You told me to stop,” she said.
“No, I said we didn’t need to rush things,” I corrected. “We were on a terrace ten feet away from about twenty people. I didn’t want to get caught making out.”
“Really?” she asked again.
I took a deep breath. It was time to come clean. “Something started to shift recently for me as well. I started to realize that I cared about you on a deeper level than just friendship. I found myself thinking about you more often, wanting to spend more time with you, and just generally feeling a desire to want to be around you.”
“Are you just saying this?”
“No,” I said firmly. “Not at all.”
“I guess I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I’m stunned.”
“At first, I tried to ignore the feelings, thinking that they were just a passing phase. But the more I tried to suppress them, the stronger they became. It was like a switch had been flipped, and I couldn’t turn it off. I didn’t see you as my friend, Emmy. I saw you as a woman I wanted to, well, do things we’ve never done before with.”
She laughed. “I’ve had some of those thoughts.”
“Do you regret the kiss?” I asked.
“Do you?”
“Not even a little.” I grinned. “I regret not talking to you for two weeks. I regret that I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me.”
“It wasn’t that,” she said. “I just felt so silly. I lost control in an instant. I was so embarrassed to have kissed you without talking to you about it first.”
“For the record, I think I kissed you. I leaned down and started the kiss. And I don’t think a conversation before a kiss is all that romantic. I was very pleased with the way it unfolded. I don’t think I would have been nearly as pleased with it if it had been choreographed. I like spur-of-the-moment. I think it’s more natural. We didn’t have to hash it out like we were planning a football play. That’s not exciting.”
“Definitely not,” she said with a laugh.
“Are you worried we might ruin our friendship if we do that again?” I asked her.
“By that, do you mean kissing?” she asked.
“Kissing and other things,” I joked.
“I guess I would need to know what exactly we were talking about,” she said. “Kissing you was good, but I never had any doubt it wouldn’t be good. You’re a good kisser. You’ve had lots of practice.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said with a grin. “Did you just call me a ho?”
“Maybe a little.” She grinned. “But I don’t mind. I quite liked your kiss.”
“Good.” I nodded. “I would like to kiss you again.”
“But,” she prompted.
“But I guess I am worried I might lose you as a friend,” I said. “I don’t want to cross a line that we can’t go back over. You’ve been my best friend for most of my life. I want to kiss you and take you to bed, but your friendship is more valuable. I can find sex elsewhere. I’ll keep my feelings locked down. Whatever you think is right.”
“I think we would definitely be crossing a line,” she agreed. “I do worry about that as well, but I think in this situation, it’s important to lay out the plays. If we do this, we can’t do that, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded. “We make a pact right now that we’re friends. Period. No matter what happens, we’re friends.”
“And if we were to pursue these feelings, could we agree that we are exclusive?” she asked softly. “I know you aren’t big on commitments, but I’m not the type that likes to be casual. I don’t want to be wondering what you’re doing with some other woman.”
