“So are you.”
“Which is why this is a bad idea.” He brushes back a strand of hair that’s wiggled free from my ponytail.
“Is it? Because it seems harmless and fun to me.”
He cocks his head. “What exactly are you thinking?”
“I miss this. Cuddling, making out. Would that be so wrong?”
“Is that the Corona talking?” he asks, but his mouth dips toward mine so there’s barely any space between our lips.
I nod, which makes my bottom lip brush against his. He moans, and the next thing I know, his mouth is on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and part my lips to let him inside. He moans again as his tongue finds mine. Then he pulls back and says, “Are you sure about this?”
“Very,” I say, tugging him back to me.
This time his lips trail across my jaw and to my neck. He finds my ticklish spot and I squirm, but he tilts my head away for better access. My fingers clench his sides, and I feel him respond and press against me.
His lips return to mine, and I kiss him like he’s the air I breathe. He tastes like lime, and I lick his lips.
“Do that again,” he says in a breathy voice.
“This?” I drag my tongue across his bottom lip.
He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and then gently bites down on it. With his lips alone, he’s making me feel things Aaron never did. We make out for an hour, our lips never parting. I can tell he’s afraid to let this go further, and frankly, so am I. Kissing while drunk can be chalked up to being drunk. Anything more and we might have to reevaluate our friendship, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
“Nate,” I say through swollen lips.
“Aria.” His lips brush mine one last time, and then he smiles at me.
“We should call it a night.”
Disappointment clouds his eyes, but he gently gets off me, sitting on the other end of the couch and looking like if he touched me again, we’d be heading for round two. “You’re probably right. Mind if I use your bathroom before I go?”
“You don’t have to ask.” I sit up, the effects of the Corona having worn off, but not the effects of Nate’s lips.
He gets up and walks to the bathroom next to the kitchen, and I lean back on the couch and sigh. I can’t let this get complicated. I know he’s crazy about someone else. I need to tell him it’s okay. That what just happened was a drunken moment of temporary insanity and it doesn’t have to change anything.
Except I want it to.
I don’t want this feeling to go away. I want to kiss Nate again. I want to know what it feels like to have those magical hands massage more than my feet.
“You’re out of soap,” Nate says, walking back into the living room.
I jump. “What?”
“I used the last of your hand soap. Sorry.”
Hand soap. I’m sitting here thinking about his lips on mine and he’s talking about hand soap? “I have more in the closet.”
“Okay, good. I guess I should go then.”
“Wait.” I hold my hand up to stop him, but I don’t know what else to say. I can’t tell him how I feel. It would ruin everything.
He stares at me, not saying a word.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say.
“No problem. I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night, okay?” He starts for the door, just like that.
“Sure,” I say, but he’s already gone.
What just happened?
Chapter Eight
Nate
I had to get out of there. If I stayed, I would have become the guy I’m trying so hard to suppress. I would have admitted my feelings and ruined everything. I never should have given in to her. She was drunk. I was drunk. But what was I supposed to do when she was practically begging me to kiss her?
A car beeps at me, and I realize I’m swerving. I can’t drive like this. I’ve had too much to drink. I pull into Last Call, my buddy Caleb’s sports bar. His apartment is above the bar, so even if he’s not bartending right now, he’ll be around to let me crash. I park, walk inside, and head straight to the bar, which takes up the entire back wall of the place. There aren’t many people left at this hour, even for a Friday night. Caleb must have announced last call already.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Caleb wipes the bar with a rag and slings it over his shoulder. “You look like you had quite the night. Who was the lucky lady?”
“Aria,” I say, sitting down on one of the leather stools.
“What?” His eyes bulge. “You two finally...” He finishes his sentence with a hand gesture.
“You look like you’re smashing Play-Doh, not miming sex. And no, we didn’t.”
He pours a shot and slides it across the bar to me. “Tell me what happened.”
I down the shot and slide the empty glass back to him.
“That bad?” he asks, refilling it.
“No. That great.”
“So then why are you here instead of at her place?” He holds my shot captive, waiting for an answer.
“She initiated it, but she was drunk.”
“Much like you,” he says, giving me my drink. “Go on.”
“Exactly. That’s the problem. I finally kiss her, and it’s when we’re both drunk. What does that mean?”
“That you’ve suddenly turned into a chick who wants to define the relationship after one kiss?” He smirks, which makes the scar on his left cheek from a motorcycle accident more apparent.
“Dickwad.”
“Very mature.” He takes my shot right out of my hand and downs it himself.
“Hey!”
“You’ve had enough for one night.” He leans his arms on the bar and looks directly at me. “What happened when it was over? Was she freaked out?”
“No. I was. For her, this was nothing more than being buzzed and missing the comfort of a warm body.”
“She still pining over Aaron?”
“I don’t think so, but I think she misses being with someone.”
“Yet you walked out without a happy ending for either of you.”
I glare at him. “She never would have spoken to me again if I—”
“Sealed the deal?” He wags a dark eyebrow.
“I’m not above punching you in the face. This is Aria we’re talking about.” I’m not sure there’s anyone I wouldn’t hit for her.
“That’s right. Aria, the girl you’ve been in love with for years. The one you’ve tried to pretend is just a friend. She’s totally hot, man. If I wasn’t engaged—”
“Finish that sentence and I will jump over this bar and pummel you.”
“Dude, you couldn’t jump over this bar right now if Aria was waiting naked on the other side of it.”
Like hell I couldn’t.
“Let’s get you upstairs. You can crash on my couch. I’m heading to Sara’s anyway.” He walks around the bar. “At least one of us is getting laid tonight.”
“Rub it in.”
He laughs. “Need help or can you walk on your own?”
“I’m fine.” I get off the bar stool and follow him to the stairs in back. I hold the railing, not trusting my legs. What was I thinking tonight? I don’t ever drink to this point, but I’ve never felt so drunk after a six-pack. It must have been the combination of the alcohol and Aria.
“You know where everything is,” Caleb says, opening the apartment door. “I’m just grabbing my overnight bag.” He heads to his room, and I flop on the dingy couch.
The apartment leaves much to be desired since Caleb put all his money into fixing up the bar below. That place looks high end. This place looks like it’s begging for a wrecking ball. I have my cell in hand when he returns.
“Please tell me you aren’t planning to drunk dial her.”
“Probably not the best idea, huh?”
“At least wait until after you puke.” He smirks and walks out, leaving me to ponder what to do next. I hate how I left her. I was a dick. Who makes out with their best friend
and then bolts? I have to call her. I dial and press the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” she answers. “Did you get home okay? I was worried you wouldn’t be able to drive.”
“I’m at Caleb’s. Driving wasn’t the best idea, and luckily I realized that. I can’t believe how drunk I am.”
“I know.” She gets quiet, and I press my fingers to my forehead, which is starting to throb with a headache. “Listen, I don’t know what came over me tonight.”
“That makes two of us. I acted like a jerk.”
“No. I’m the one who pushed things.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.” I rub my forehead, but now my chest is pounding much louder than my head. “I shouldn’t have left without talking to you about what happened.”
“It’s not a big deal. We were drunk. We made out. I don’t want this to change things between us.”
Shit. “Are you saying you want to pretend it never happened?”
“No. I...I don’t know what I’m saying.” She sighs loudly into the phone. “I wish you were still here so we could talk in person.”
“I’m sorry I left. I thought you might be a little freaked out over what happened.”
“We kissed. That’s all.”
That’s not all. It was so much more than that. It’s good that I left, because feeling this way is too much on its own. I couldn’t go through it in front of her. “Tell me what you want to do about it.”
“Do we have to do anything? I mean, we’re still friends, right? That doesn’t need to change, does it?”
The hope in her voice is like a kick to the balls.
“No, we don’t have to do anything. We’ll always be best friends, Aria. Always.” I wish I knew how to come to terms with that. Especially after having a taste of what could be.
Chapter Nine
Aria
I spend more time than I should thinking about last night. After calling my sister, Ashley, and filling her in, she offers to come stay with me for the weekend, but I tell her I have plans with Nate again tonight.
“Let me get this straight. You made out with him last night, are afraid of ruining your relationship with him, but are going to keep your date for tonight?”
“It’s not a date. Nate and I are always together. You know that.” I take the teakettle off the stove and pour hot water into my mug.
“Right, but that was before you kissed. What happens now? Do you kiss good night after dinner? Does he come back to your place? Do you have wild monkey sex and then pretend it never happened?”
“What? No!” I put the kettle down and dunk the tea bag several times. “And why ‘monkey’ sex? Nate is too hot to be compared to a monkey.”
“So you admit he’s hot!”
“Of course. I’d have to be blind not to notice.” His turquoise eyes demand attention. Not to mention the rest of him, which is perfectly sculpted. The man could be on display in a museum.
“Sweetie, I thought you were blind the first time you brought him home and introduced him as your new best friend instead of your future baby daddy.”
“Shut up. We were kids at the time. Who thinks of having children at thirteen?” I was too busy worrying about making the tennis team to think about boys. I sip my tea while she contemplates a solution to my situation.
“Oh, I know. You could be friends with benefits. I always wanted a hot guy best friend to do that with.”
“Yeah, but you married your high school sweetheart. You’ve only dated two guys in your entire life.”
She huffs into the phone. She and Neil met freshman year of high school, and it was love at first sight. Ashley was seeing a guy named Brandon but quickly ended it because she couldn’t deny her feelings for Neil. “Seriously, though, why have you and Nate never dated? You’re both good-looking and you have so much in common. You must have at least thought about it.”
Sure I have. On several occasions—but Nate always had someone else in his life. “He dated a lot, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by becoming another notch on his belt.”
“Please, you could never be that to him. He loves you, Aria, even if it’s not in the ‘want to rip your clothes off’ way. Although”—she pauses for dramatic effect—“after last night, maybe that’s changed. Or he’s been hiding his true feelings all along.”
“You didn’t see how quickly he ran out of here.” At least I was able to save face by playing the drunk card. He has no idea I wanted to take things further—that I still want to.
“Give it time. And hey, worse case scenario, get drunk at dinner tonight and have a repeat of your make out session.” She laughs, but it’s obvious she’s only half joking.
“Yeah, I don’t think so. I should go. I’ve wasted most of the day thinking about this and Nate will be here in an hour. I need to get ready.”
“Shave. Everywhere. You can’t be too careful.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “Bye, Ash.”
“Good luck, little sis.”
I hang up and head to my bedroom to pick out my outfit. Alejandro’s isn’t too fancy, but it’s not exactly a pizza joint either. I flip through my tops, not happy with any of them. It’s warm enough for a sundress, even though it’s early June, so I settle on one with a low neckline. I slip it on and assess myself in the mirror. I don’t exactly have the biggest boobs in the world, but I’m a solid B-cup and the dress makes them look more like Cs. I second-guess my choice as I fix my hair and makeup. Maybe this is too much. If we’re taking things back into the friend zone, I shouldn’t be trying to entice him with my boobs. I start for the closet again when I hear my name.
“You decent?” Nate calls from the living room.
I should really start locking my door. I check the time on my phone. Why is he a half hour early? “Um, just a sec. Still deciding what to wear.”
He walks into my room with one hand over his eyes and the other reaching in front of him to feel along the wall so he doesn’t bump into anything.
“I have clothes on. You can look,” I say, laughing at how adorable he is.
He lowers his hand, and his mouth drops. “Wow. New dress?” He clears his throat.
“Yeah, bought it last weekend when I went shopping with Ashley.”
“It’s...great.”
I follow his gaze to my chest and cross my arms in front of me, but that only makes my boobs pop out more. I lower my arms again and move toward my closet. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right for tonight.”
“Why? What’s tonight?”
Crap. Why would I say that? I’m implying this is more than us hanging out. “Nothing. I just mean it might be too chilly for this. The nights are still a little cool.”
“Grab a sweater then.” He moves toward my closet and goes for my favorite black sweater. “Here.”
What can I do now? If I protest, he’ll know something’s up. “Good idea. Thanks.” I take the sweater and put it on, except my body temperature is skyrocketing.
He brushes a thumb across my cheek, and my body goes still. “Eyelash,” he says with a smile. “You ready?”
“Yeah, let me grab my purse.” I take deep breaths as I walk over to my bed where I left my purse and phone. “Why are we leaving so early?”
“I thought we could go for a drink first. Caleb’s working tonight, and he said he hasn’t seen you in a while.”
Drinking may be the only way to get through tonight, but what if it lowers my inhibitions like it did last night? Can I really go through that again? Feeling Nate’s lips on mine, on my neck...and then pretending it never happened?
“What’s wrong?” Nate steps toward me, so close I can feel his body heat on my back.
“Nothing. I was reading a text,” I say, holding up my phone. “Sorry.” I shove my phone in my purse before he can realize the screen is black.
The drive to Last Call is awkward, but luckily, it’s short. Caleb walks around the bar with a big smile as soon as he sees me. He’s kind of like my honor
ary big brother.
“Hey, squirt. Long time no see.” He wraps me in a bear hug. The guy has muscle a weight lifter would be jealous of.
“I’ll be twenty-six in a matter of days. When are you going to stop calling me ‘squirt’?”
“When you’re older than I am.” He steps back but keeps his arms draped around me.
“You have one year on me. That’s it.” Caleb repeated sophomore year after having to take time off to take care of his dad, who had a stroke. It all worked out in the end because he and Nate became inseparable.
Caleb lets go and looks at Nate. “Speaking of, what do we have planned for Aria’s birthday? I’m assuming you’re in charge of the festivities as always.”
“She hasn’t told me what she wants to do yet. I was planning to get it out of her at dinner.” Nate smiles at me. “I think it should be something big. You are officially breaking into the other half of the twenties.”
“Yeah, I think I see a gray hair.” Caleb reaches for the top of my head, but I swat his hand away.
“Very funny. Not five minutes with you two and I need a drink.”
“What will it be?” Caleb asks. “Something sweet or something sour?”
“Sour,” Nate and I both say.
Caleb looks back and forth between us. “Sickening. You two seriously share a brain.”
If only. Then I wouldn’t have to hide my feelings because Nate would be feeling the same way.
We head to the bar, Nate’s hand on my lower back, guiding me. I try to remember him touching me so much. Maybe he always has and I never noticed because I knew he saw me as nothing more than his best friend. It’s like the kiss last night has me questioning everything, no matter how small.
I take a seat at the bar, and Nate slides onto the stool next to me. Caleb already has two drinks—Tom Collins, if I had to venture a guess—already waiting for us. His regulars never actually order drinks by name. Caleb asks, “Sweet or sour?” That’s all. Then he works his magic from there.
I sip mine, noting an extra sour flavor. “You added something,” I say.
“You like?”
It Was Always You (Love Chronicles Book 1) Page 5
