One of the Girls (Friendzone #1)

by Robin Daniels

  Sean snickered. “Dude. You’re whipped, and she’s not even your girlfriend.”

  “Thanks,” I replied sarcastically. “Trust me, I’m well aware.”

  We pulled in at Rocky’s. It was an old-fashioned ice cream joint, decorated fifties style: neon sign, checkered floors, a long counter with stationary barstools, and a jukebox that mostly played Elvis songs. We parked a couple spaces over from Stacie and Mia. They’d gone through a yellow light that I stopped for, so they were already waiting by the front door.

  “What took you so long?” Stacie was smirking.

  I slapped my hand to my chest. “I like to maintain prudent speeds and obey the law. Because I’m responsible.”

  “Eh, being responsible is overrated.”

  “Um,” Mia chimed in, “I’m going to agree with Nick on this one.”

  Stacie looked at Sean. “Don’t tell me you’re on Team Granny, too?”

  “Girl, I got your back.” They did their little fist bump thingy. Then Sean shocked me by holding the door open for her. I didn’t know what to think about those two. But to be fair, I’m not sure they knew what to think about each other.

  I got in line, in front of Mia this time, so I could buy her shake. But when we ordered, the manager came out and told us it was on the house. I thanked him, then promptly turned to Mia. “Do you always get free ice cream? I know all the guys at school fawn over you, but he’s a little old, don’t you think?”

  Mia laughed. “Definitely too old for me. That was Rachel’s dad. He owns this place. Every time we win a home game, he gives the cheer squad free ice cream.”

  “No fair!” Sean cried. “The football team does all the work, and the cheerleaders get the reward? That’s messed up.”

  “Yeah, but there’s only sixteen of us. There’s like fifty of you,” Mia pointed out. “Besides, you got yours free tonight because you were with us.”

  “I think he just felt sorry for you,” Stacie said. “One look at your ugly mug, and he knew free ice cream was the only sugar you could get.”

  “Oh, burn!” I laughed at Sean, even though it sounded to me like Stacie was in denial. I’d heard multiple girls say Sean was good looking. It’s possible she was a mean flirter, like him, and that’s why the tension was always so high between them.

  Mia scooted into the booth first, and I snatched the spot next to her so Stacie couldn’t. It forced her to sit by Sean, and she pulled a face. But it was almost as if she was trying too hard to look disgusted. I was beginning to think her whole act was a big game.

  “Rachel’s dad is officially awesome. Except, now I have a problem,” I said.

  “What?” Mia asked. She picked up her shake and brought her straw to her mouth. I had to purposely concentrate on her eyes rather than her lips.

  “I owe you ice cream, but I didn’t get to pay.”

  Mia shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to take me another time.”

  Sean kicked me under the table and mouthed, “Told you so.” Luckily, neither of the girls saw him say it.

  My heart was stuck in romantic purgatory. Mia could have counted tonight as payment and she didn’t. That meant either she wanted to go out with me again or she really loved ice cream. Unfortunately, whether she liked me or she liked me-liked me was still a mystery.

  Chapter 18

  I walked into Gym Stars at ten-thirty on Saturday morning. A woman greeted me from behind the counter. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  “Yes. I’m supposed to be meeting Nick Moody for a private lesson at eleven.”

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s still finishing up with his last class. But you can wait for him in the observation area. It’s right up those steps.” The woman pointed across the foyer.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  The observation area was a narrow balcony that overlooked the whole gym. I passed about a dozen parents sitting on chairs and took a seat at the end of the row. Nick once mentioned that I could come by any Saturday at eleven and he’d work with me. We hadn’t specifically made plans for today, but after last night I really wanted to see him again. And I didn’t want to wait until Monday. I pulled the brim of my baseball cap low so he wouldn’t catch me spying like an obsessed fangirl.

  Nick had a group of six kids who looked about three or four years old. They were bouncing around and hanging on him. Every time he asked a question, they blurted out random answers, most of which had nothing to do with what he’d asked. He patiently reminded them to raise their hands and praised them for being almost right.

  They worked on front rolls for a while. He had to give two of the kids a push to get them all the way over, but he clapped and made a big fuss when they figured out how to do it on their own. After that, they moved to the balance beam, a low one that sat just a few inches off the ground. He demonstrated the proper way to keep balance, then lined the kids up on one side.

  Many of the students slipped off frequently but got back on. One little boy made Nick hold his hand all the way across. The tiniest girl in the group got about two feet out and stilled. Then she started whimpering, saying she was scared. He picked her up off the beam, and she clung to him. When he tried to soothe her, she hugged him tightly and refused to let go. Nick ended up holding her until all the kids were done. The way it tugged at my heart, I wished he was holding me. I felt pathetic for being jealous of a toddler.

  At five minutes to eleven, he walked the kids upstairs to meet their parents. It wasn’t until the last child left that he noticed me sitting at the far end. “Mia?”

  “Hey, Nick.” I stood hesitantly, and he walked toward me.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. Maybe I shouldn’t have shown up unannounced.

  “Sorry. I should have called first.”

  “No!” he replied quickly, “I’m glad you’re here. Just surprised to see you.”

  My cheeks got warm. “I was hoping you could help me work on my back walkover.”

  “Yes. Definitely. But I need to clock out first.” He jerked his head toward the lobby. “Come on.”

  I followed him into an office behind the counter. After hitting a few buttons on the time clock, he turned back to me, staring quizzically. “Is something wrong?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

  He grinned. “I’ve never seen you wear a hat before.”

  “Sometimes I wear them on weekends. When I don’t want to bother with my hair.” Totally bogus. I never wore hats. In fact, I had to scour the house to find this one. And I spent ten minutes trying to make my ponytail look good under it. The hat was nothing more than a disguise. But now that it’d served its purpose, I realized my hair might look worse when I took it off. Poor planning on my part.

  “It’s cute on you.” His smile made my cheeks heat again. “But you should probably leave it in here. It’s not very practical for gymnastics.”

  “Right.” I slipped it off and went straight to fixing my hair.

  I’d started to put the ponytail back in when he said, “Can you put it up high?” His face scrunched in thought. “My sisters use the term messy bun. Is that a thing?”

  I chuckled. “Yes, it’s a thing. But why a bun?”

  “Your ponytail is pretty long. It might get in the way while I spot you.” He grinned impishly. “Also, I think they’re sexy.”

  The heat spread from my cheeks all the way down to my toes. I tried to remain calm and casual as I twisted my hair on the top of my head. “Well, in that case…” After I secured the elastic, I asked, “Is that better?”

  His eyes twinkled, and he stepped close to me. Reflexively, I sucked in a breath and tensed. He pulled out a few of the wisps around my face, pretending to take great care in styling them. When he stepped back to examine his work, he tapped his finger on his chin. Then he reached out to release one more strand and exclaimed “Perfecto!” with a bad Italian accent.

  I laughed, instantly relaxing. Nick always knew how to lighten my mood. He was a good friend. But that’s all we
’d ever be if I froze up every time he got within arm’s reach. He was just so adorable, and the more time I spent with him, the more it drove me crazy. I mentally advised myself to focus harder on his friendship and not so much on his hotness.

  “You can leave your shoes in the office. Your phone and keys, too. Only employees come back here, so everything will be safe.”

  I slipped off my sandals and set my things down on the desk. Then he led me into the gym and brought me to a mat in the corner. There were only two other instructors, and they both appeared to be giving private lessons, so we had lots of privacy. “Okay, where do we start?” I asked.

  “First, we have to master your backbend. Your hand placement is all wrong, and you move too slow. It should look like this.” Nick leaned back in one fluid, effortless motion. But his T-shirt slid up, and he fell trying to pull it back down. “Sorry. I’m not really dressed for backbends.”

  I looked at my own clothes. I’d put on some leggings and a tight tank top over my sports bra. “Am I okay?”

  “Yes, you’re perfect,” he said, then clamped his mouth shut. For some reason, we had an awkward tension thing going this morning. He reworded his statement. “I mean your clothes are perfect.”

  This was a prime opportunity to act more like a friend and less like I was about to swoon. I gave him a little attitude. “Wait, are you saying I’m not perfect?”

  He grinned. “No. I’m saying your clothes are perfect and your backbend isn’t. I refuse to comment on anything else.”

  I hummed. “Smart man.”

  “I try.” He shrugged. The banter made things feel more normal. “There’s a reason people wear tight clothes to do gymnastics. It’s much more practical. Guys can get away with baggy shirts if necessary, but girls? Not so much.” That was an understatement. If my shirt crept up the way his had, the whole gym would get a show.

  “Do you normally wear something different?” I asked.

  He looked down at his top. “This is my employee shirt. If I’m practicing, I wear a tight tank. I only wear T-shirts to cheer so nobody teases me.”

  “I doubt any of the girls would tease you for wearing a tank top. Especially when it shows off your big old muscles.”

  Nick chuckled. “It’s not the girls I’m worried about.”

  “You could always practice shirtless,” I joked, even though I was half serious.

  “I don’t know about that.” He paused. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll ditch the shirt right now. It’ll just be distracting and uncomfortable.”

  Eek! He might not be distracted, but I sure as heck would be. “That’s fine,” I replied coolly. He pulled the shirt over his head and threw it beside the mat, then tightened the drawstring on his basketball shorts.

  I was wrong. It was so not fine. He was fine. He was more than fine—in the hottest way possible. But now I wasn’t fine. I was hot in the worst way possible. Where was an ice machine when you needed one? Couldn’t a girl get a fan up in here? I’d never be able to concentrate with that gloriously tanned and toned torso begging me to stare at it.

  Nick clapped and rubbed his hands together. “First, I want you to try a backbend. I’ll spot you so you don’t worry about falling on your head.” He stepped close and placed his arm behind my low back. His naked chest was mere inches from my naked shoulder. We were totally decent, but it still felt like a whole lot of naked. “Ready?” he asked.

  Danger, danger! My brain screamed. System malfunction. Core overload. Extinguish heat source immediately, or risk possible meltdown. According to the computer in my head, I was most definitely not ready. I reminded myself that ladies always maintained composure. I took a deep breath. “Ready,” I replied.

  I arched my back and eased to the mat, slow as molasses. I thought Nick was going to help lower me, but he didn’t give me any support. His arm merely hovered behind my back. He never actually touched me.

  “Good,” he said. “Now do it again, but faster. Don’t fight gravity; use it to create speed.” I dropped awkwardly on the ground. After straightening all my limbs, I rolled over and pushed myself up. Nick laughed. “That was quite the ordeal. I could have written my British lit essay in the time it took you to get up.”

  “Okay, Mr. Muscles. Not all of us have abs of steel.”

  “Mr. Muscles? That has a nice ring to it.”

  I snorted and shook my head. “Don’t expect me to use it regularly.”

  “I’m not saying you have to use it. Just that you have permission to use it.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He snapped and pointed to the floor. “Now do another one.”

  I tried again. It wasn’t any better. This time, when I started to drop, Nick grabbed me around the waist with both hands, gracefully pulling me upright. I gave him an annoyed look, though secretly I was impressed. I wasn’t heavy, but I wasn’t a lightweight, either.

  “I could have done it myself.”

  He winked. “Yes, but my way’s faster. Try again.”

  “You sound like Stacie,” I grumbled.

  He gave me a playfully sharp look. “And it’ll get worse if you don’t speed up.”

  I made five more attempts, and none of them were fast enough. “Ugh. I suck.”

  “You don’t suck. You’re being a wimp. What are you scared of?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Falling.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “It’s not that I don’t trust you personally. It’s more like I don’t trust your ability to spot all one hundred and thirty pounds of me with one scrawny arm.”

  “Scrawny?” He arched his eyebrows. “I thought I was Mr. Muscles?”

  “Can you curl a one hundred and thirty pound dumbbell one handed?” I challenged.

  “They don’t even make one hundred and thirty pound dumbbells.” He rolled his eyes. “And that’s not how spotting works. I’m supposed to be there if you need help. Not do the work for you.”

  I huffed like a spoiled kid. “I’m not saying you have to do the work for me. Just hold on a little so I don’t feel like I’m going to break my neck.”

  “I can’t hold you while you bend. It’ll restrict your movement.”

  “You hold me when you pull me up,” I pointed out.

  Nick tipped his head to the side, thinking. “That’s different. It won’t work on the way down.”

  “How do you know?”

  He blew out an exasperated breath. “Okay, fine. We’ll try it your way. But if you don’t go fast, I will drop you on your head.” He sounded mildly frustrated, and I felt bad for being such a chicken.

  “Just once,” I promised. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll do it your way.”

  Nick walked to my side and tried to wrap both arms around my waist. He shook his head and stepped back. “That’s not going to help.”

  “Try it from the front,” I suggested.

  He moved so he was facing me and snaked his hands around my stomach. “Like this?” he asked. But now that he was standing so close, I had a momentary loss of thought. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Clearly, standing toe-to-toe didn’t have the same effect on him as it did on me.

  “Yes,” I finally answered. I looked confidently into his eyes, because honestly, I had no clue if my way would work. I just didn’t want to be wrong.

  It was my hard stare that sparked a reaction. His gaze dropped to my mouth, then down to his arms around my waist and back to my eyes. When he looked up again, his expression had softened, and his voice turned husky. “If I stand like this, you’ll pull me over when you lean back. You should move your feet so that they’re straddling mine. That way I can redistribute my weight. You need a wider base anyway.” The words were very technical. The way he spoke them was anything but.

  Nick tightened his grip as I repositioned my stance. It forced us closer together, like we were preparing for a steamy tango. If I were taller, we’d have been nose to nose. I had to tip my he
ad back to look at him. When our eyes met this time, he swallowed hard. My heart sped up. “Now what?” I asked breathily.

  He looked at my mouth again. Oh my gosh, was he going to kiss me? I’d never wanted anything so bad in all my life. I almost repeated his words from the night before: Don’t think, just do it. But I didn’t want to force his hand. I only wanted him to kiss me if he wanted to kiss me.

  Nick licked his lips and cleared his throat. His gaze dropped to my mouth one last time, and I went stiff. It felt like we stood that way forever. Then he blinked a few times. “Put your arms up,” he instructed. When I didn’t do it right away, he nudged my elbow with his forearm, and I raised them over my head. “Now go.”

  Go how? Like go into a backbend, or go ahead and kiss him?

  “Anytime,” he murmured, eyes still trained on my lips. “Do you need some motivation?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Please motivate me.”

  “Okay.” Nick ran his right hand up my side, and everything felt like it was in slow motion. My nerves were short-circuiting, my skin burning under his touch. When he rested his hand on my shoulder, my knees buckled. But instead of kissing me, he smiled. Not a sexy smile, a wicked smile. He loosened his grip on my waist and gave me a shove.

  It wasn’t particularly hard. Under normal circumstances, it probably wouldn’t have tipped me off balance. However, I was currently experiencing a spaghetti-like sensation in my legs. That, combined with his arm pinning my lower half against him, sent me plummeting toward the ground, headfirst and faster than I’d ever attempted to go on my own. Nick quickly moved his hands to grab my hips. He leaned forward to steady me as I went back. Once my own hands were firmly planted, he let go.

  “I did it!” I gasped.

  “Only because I pushed you.” He laughed, then kicked my leg out from under me. I toppled to the ground with a thud.

  “So what?” I stuck my tongue out at him. “I still did it.”

  “Yes, you did it. But it only counts if it wasn’t a fluke. Which means you need to get up and do it again… The right way this time.” Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. “You think you can stop freaking out now?”