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She smirked. “You’re the one bragging about your talents.”
His eyes darted from her face to the TV to the archway that led from the hall into the room and back to her again. “You’re not gonna…get all girly on me after this, are you?”
Jillian drew her brow together. “‘Get all girly?’”
“Yeah.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, start acting like you wanna be my girlfriend or something like that.”
She snorted and moved slightly closer to him, her leg wedging beneath his. “Listen, Sparky, you’re cool and you’re fun and you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, but that is definitely not going to happen.”
“Okay.”
With that single word he leaned forward and moved a hand to grip the back of her neck. A swarm of butterflies beat their wings against her stomach as he inched nearer. When his mouth was a breath away from hers, he paused and she would have been certain her heart stopped beating as well if it weren’t for the loud thumping in her ears.
His lips brushed softly on hers once, then twice before his mouth clung to hers with soft, gentle motions that would have tickled if she hadn’t been lost in a moment and in a…feeling?
She moved to hold onto his shoulders and he adjusted the angle of his head, deepening the kiss slightly and tracing her lower lip with his tongue. When she looked back on that slice of their relationship, she could never pinpoint exactly how long it lasted, but the loud opening and closing of the kitchen door heralding his parents’ return ended it earlier than it would have on its own.
Despite the churning in her gut, the blood raging inside her like whitewater rapids, and the lack of oxygen in her lungs, she affected a nonchalant smile and silently hoped her best friend couldn’t see through it. Or at least wouldn’t call her out on it.
“Not too bad, Sparky. Maybe you have a future as a consultant for the next round of eligible men seeking true love among thirty women in nine weeks.”
He snorted and grinned. “I’m gonna go see if Mom and Dad need help carrying stuff in.”
Just as he rounded the back of the couch she turned on her knees and leaned over it. “Oh, see if they have ice cream!”
Chapter Fifteen
Dean
Present Day
For the fifth time Dean flipped over on the couch, trying desperately to find a position comfortable enough to finally fall asleep while knowing his insomnia had nothing to do with the sofa and everything to do with the memory of Jillian's lips on his. The reality of kissing an all-grown-up Jillian had nothing on their past teenage experiments or the fantasies he’d concocted in his own head.
Just as the first fingers of light began to stretch across the sky, Dean’s eyes finally closed and stayed that way until the strong aroma of fresh coffee teased his nose and pried his lids apart. He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow to look over the back of the couch and into the kitchen where Jillian was moving around.
She turned from the refrigerator to the island and jumped slightly when her gaze landed on him. “You’re awake.”
Dean groaned, fell back onto the pillow, and threw an arm over his eyes. “That’s the rumor.” After a few moments he summoned the energy to sit up and plant his feet on the floor. “I’ve never needed coffee more in my life.”
He padded into the kitchen, attempting to step around Jillian as she assembled two breakfast sandwiches and heaped fried potatoes onto plates. Just as he filled his cup and moved to grab creamer from the fridge, she turned and they bumped into each other.
Simultaneous “I’m sorry’s” jumbled together and ended with Jillian heaving a hefty sigh. Her emerald green eyes locked onto his and his stomach churned.
She set the dishes on the table and leaned her hip against the surface. “Time to talk, Sparky.” She pulled her chair out, sat down, and gestured to his normal place at the table.
Dean fixed his coffee and took a seat diagonal to the one Jillian occupied. “Whatcha need to talk about?” As if he didn’t know. As if he hadn’t spent his entire night reliving every caress of her lips on his. As if he didn’t want to take this chance to tell her how he really felt for her.
“We’ve both been weird around each other since last night and that’s the last thing I want to happen to our friendship, much less to have that hanging over us for this…” she gestured between the two of them “…thing.”
His lips twitched with a repressed grin. “You mean marriage. The word is marriage. Wedded bliss. Happily ever after. Riding off into the sunset—”
She held up one hand. “All right, Sparky, let’s not get carried away. You know what I mean.” She dropped the fork she’d been holding and laid her hand on top of his, squeezing slightly. “There is nothing in this world worth ruining our friendship. You’ve been the only constant in my life since I was seven years old. I…don’t want to lose that.”
Dean shoved a small mountain of ketchup-covered fried potatoes into his mouth, not pulling away from the light grip she held on his other hand. The tangy taste didn’t even register as he focused on her words and weighed the wisdom of saying the “L” word that danced on the tip of his tongue nearly every time he was in her presence.
“That’s never going to happen.” The conviction he added to the assertion belied his true feelings. The fear that going too far too fast would end with his heart not only broken because she didn’t love him, but because he’d lose his best friend.
“You are more important to me than any issue my family has. If we need to call off this fake marriage thing because it’s causing problems between us, I’ll do that in a heartbeat.”
