One Big Mistake: a friends to lovers rom-com

by Whitney Barbetti

  “You want another drink?” Keane asked as the bartender gave him the “one second” gesture from the other end of the bar.

  I only had a few more seconds to make a decision. If I said no, we’d go home from here, this moment likely lost forever.

  But if I said yes, we’d exist in this little bubble for at least thirty minutes more. Maybe another drink would give me the courage to do what I’d wanted to do all night: kiss him. For real. On the mouth.

  I was faced with the task of making a good decision or a bad decision.

  And I wasn’t sure which one I wanted.

  He stared at me for a beat, his eyes warm and his smile doing things to me.

  “One more for the road,” I said, practically vibrating with unspent energy.

  “I think a whiskey for me,” Keane said. “And you?”

  “Whiskey for me too.”

  Keane motioned to one up on the wall. “Have you ever had whiskey?”

  “No. But had you ever had a climax before?”

  He gave me a teasing smile. “Yep. A few.”

  “Lucky you.”

  The bartender set two glasses on the bar. “Who’s driving?”

  “Neither of us,” we said simultaneously.

  “Good.” He gave us each a healthy pour.

  “Toast?” Keane held up the short glass.

  “To us,” I said. “The best of friends.”

  Keane paused just before tossing it back, eyeing me carefully. The way he looked at me made me feel squirmy, like I needed to do something. “Okay.” He brought it to his mouth and I followed suit, tossing mine back.

  Fuck. That burned. I hated that I coughed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  “Okay, maybe next time don’t take it like a shot. I promise, it doesn’t burn as much if you get to know it first,” Keane said, as if in invitation.

  “Prove it.”

  Within a minute we had two more in front of us. “This time, don’t toss it back. Smell it. Let it get to know you a bit. Take a little sip, swish it around in your mouth.”

  I was doubtful that it would burn less, since my throat was still on fire. But the sip I swallowed was significantly less harsh.

  “Do you like its flavor?”

  “Um…” I shifted on the stool. My bum was falling asleep from sitting here but standing might be a bad idea. “It’s hard to taste the flavor, I think.”

  “Okay.” Keane grabbed the straw in the glass of water we’d neglected since the bartender had placed it in front of us hours before. He plugged one end of the straw with his forefinger before picking it up and out of the glass. He held it over my glass of whiskey and let a little bit splash into it.

  “Isn’t that a bad thing? Watering it down?”

  “It makes a bigger difference, helping you taste it better.”

  I was doubtful but joined him in another sip. This time, I let it swirl around my mouth even more before swallowing. The flavor was somehow more complex, richer, and it went down a lot more smoothly. While I couldn’t name the flavors mating on my tongue, I could taste them this time. “You’re right.” I rubbed my tongue over the roof of my mouth, trying to capture the warmth of the flavor.

  “Good, right?”

  “I’m working myself up to good,” I said. “My throat is still a little angry.”

  “When grandpa and I would go out to the cabin after an elk hunt, we’d sit by the fire until it was embers and we were both too tired to throw another log on. He’d make us hot cocoa, tipping a little whiskey in both of our mugs. Told me it would keep us warm through the night. The cabin isn’t super well-insulated, so in the fall it got cold at night.”

  “Did it help? Keep you warm?”

  “I’m not sure. It helped me pass out though,” he said on a laugh.

  “So, cheers to Grandpa Colburn.” I held my glass up, clinking with his.

  “He’d probably grumble about me spending money on overpriced drinks when we could drink at the house for cheaper.”

  “But he’d be happy about what you and Asa are doing. Restoring what he gave you.”

  “I think so. I’m looking forward to it.” His eyes were warm and his mouth held a soft smile, as if he was in a memory. What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of smile aimed at me. “Ready to get going?”

  Nodding, I pulled my purse off the hook under the bar. I dug through it until my fumbling fingers found my wallet.

  “Get that outta here, Navy.”

  “No way, friend.” I pulled out a few twenties—or what I thought were twenties. Those damn numbers were so small, how could anyone see them when they weren’t drunk?

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to figure out if this is a twenty or a fifty.” My contacts were dried out from the long night and the smoky bar, and I realized I didn’t have eye drops or a contact case for them. Oh well.

  “Well, does it matter? I’ve already paid.”

  “What? When?” Was I really that drunk that I was losing entire chunks of time?

  “I started a tab when we got here.”

  “Oh.” I felt my cheeks warm. “Let me leave the tip then.”

  “I already did.”

  “How much was the damage?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” His hand covered mine and gently pushed my hand into my purse until I let go of the wallet. “Let’s get out of here. I’m sure we both need to use the bathroom anyway.”

  “But you said we couldn’t use this one,” I murmured as we started toward the exit. Holy cannoli, my legs reminded me of watching a baby deer walk for the first time.

  “We’re going next door. I’ll send for a car there.”

  “Good idea.” I leaned heavily on him as we stepped outside. “Whoa, fresh air.”

  “I had no idea we were eating cigarette smoke the last couple hours until now.”

  “I didn’t even know there were still bars that allowed that here.”

  “I think that’s the only one.” Keane led me across the alley to the convenience store next door, but every step on the ever-changing ground was a test for the strength of my ankles. I wasn’t even wearing heels, but it sure felt like I was.

  “Are you not as drunk as I am?” I finally asked when we safely arrived onto the sidewalk in front of the store.

  “Oh, I’m just as bad,” he said. “I’m just bigger, so I can lead better than you can. Like two giant toddlers learning to walk together.” He swayed us into a newspaper stand and I laughed as it rattled. “Spoke too soon.”

  “I don’t even know where the bathrooms are in there,” I said on a laugh. I’m gonna take out a whole aisle of convenience snacks in my search.”

  “I’ll take you to the ladies' room before I go to the men’s room.”

  “Good thinkin’, partner.” We entered the convenience store and both of us squinted under the horrifically bright lights. “Does this place have a dimmer switch?” I asked as we swayed and slid our way to the restrooms.

  “Go pee and don’t go outside without me, okay?”

  It was the least sexy thing he could say to me, but that was okay because I did have to pee after drinking however many shots I’d pounded. There was still time for sexy.

  As I washed my hands after, I stared at my reflection until three Navys merged into one. As far as my makeup went, it wasn’t too bad. My hair looked worse, the top bit plastered to my forehead and the rest of it coming undone from the lazy bun I’d made hours ago.

  Fuck the bun. I pulled the scrunchie out and put it into my purse. But as my hair settled, all I could smell was cigarette smoke. I needed to fix this.

  Thankfully, my bag was basically a dumpster of a billion hair and face products. After applying some dry shampoo, perfume, and face mist to freshen my skin, I finally exited the bathroom.

  “Car should be here in four minutes,” Keane said from where he’d been waiting in front of the bathroom.

  “Oh good. We can get a snack.”

  “You’re hu
ngry?”

  “I’m not hungry. I’m snacky.” On wobbly knees, I ventured down the aisle of brightly lit beverage coolers, I saw nirvana. “Keane,” I said on an inhale, all breathy and soft. “Look.”

  “Cookie dough.”

  “And brownie batter.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “If you’re thinking that we’re about to buy both and then demolish them, then yes. Absolutely yes.”

  “That’s why you’re my girl,” Keane said and swiped the two pints of ice cream from the cooler.

  “Then let your girl pay for these,” I insisted. “I am sure it in no way compares to what you just lost at Bunny’s, so let me do this.” I said it so fast to keep him from refusing that it probably sounded like one, long slur of sounds.

  “Uhh.” That answered my thought. I took both from his arms and wobble-marched my way to the register, swiping a plastic spoon along the way. I knew I only had twenties or fifties in my purse, so I gave her one of them. My hands gripped the counter unsteadily before I felt Keane come up behind me and cage me in so that I could safely lean on him.

  I shoved my change into a random pocket in my purse and let Keane lead me out.

  “God, cookie dough.”

  “We used to take turns picking all the cookie dough pieces out of it, do you remember?”

  “Yeah, and then we microwaved the leftover vanilla ice cream and drank it like a warm milkshake.”

  “Ah!” I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing. “I’m so glad you remember.”

  “Of course I do.” He squeezed me harder, so I squeezed him even harder—both of us taking turns until he squeaked. “Okay, you win.”

  “Car’s here,” I said, recognizing the glowing light on the dash.

  By the time we made it back to Keane’s house, the world was still spinning but I wasn’t quite ready to go inside. Luckily, Keane shared the same thought.

  “I don’t want to go inside just yet. Everyone might still be up, and I don’t want to deal with them.”

  Spying the trampoline in the backyard, I turned to Keane. “Wanna lay out on it and eat our ice cream?”

  “Hell yeah.” We trudged through overgrown weeds and over the volcano rock landscaping, only falling a couple times in our journey to the trampoline.

  “Do you even use this thing anymore?”

  “No, but Mom wants to keep it for any kids that come over.” He held the netting open so I could climb through the door and handed me the bag from the store before he jumped in himself, sending me several feet in the air.

  “Shiiiiiiiiiiiit,” I hissed, collapsing onto the tramp on my back. “I might be too drunk for actual jumping.”

  “Yeah, me too. That was a bad idea.” He army crawled to where I sat in the center and pulled out the first pint. “Only one spoon?”

  “We can share,” I said, popping the plastic lid off. “Me first though.” I dug one generous scoop of cookie dough and popped it into my mouth. “Mmmm. Holy Hannah, that’s good.”

  Keane took the next spoonful and groaned alongside me. “Do you think it’s actually this good, or it just seems good because we’re drunk?”

  “Does it matter?” I took the next spoonful and closed my eyes as the vanilla melted in my mouth. We took turns sharing until we were sure that all that remained was vanilla.

  “It’ll melt if we just leave it in the bag,” Keane said and dug into the next pint. “Here.” He gave me a large bite of brownie batter and, thoroughly satiated, I laid back on the trampoline as I let it slowly melt on my tongue.

  “There’s a lot of stars out tonight.”

  Keane laughed. “The stars are there every night. And some of those aren’t even stars; they’re planets.”

  I squinted, as if that would give me the vision of a telescope. “Which planets?”

  Keane put the lid on the ice cream and laid beside me. I turned my head, watching him study the sky. “There,” he said, with an arm vaguely pointing.

  I needed to get closer, so I scooted toward him, putting my head on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around my back and his head touched mine.

  “There,” he repeated. “See that very bright star there? That’s Jupiter. Third brightest object in the night sky.”

  “Where? How can you tell?”

  He grasped my hand and brought our heads so close that our eyes were immediately next to one another. “There’s Ophiuchus and just below that is Jupiter. Looks like a super bright star.”

  If I closed my blurry, contact-less eye, I could see it. “Isn’t it so far away?”

  “It is, but it’s bright. Not as bright as Venus, but bright.”

  “What’s Ophiuchus?”

  “Latin for serpent bearer. Looks like a bad ass, if you google it. The constellation itself is kind of boring in shape.” He dropped our hands but held me close. It felt so good to snuggle him and in the cool evening air, I wanted to be closer to his warmth. I draped a leg over his as I side-cuddled him.

  “Tell me more,” I said, even though I’d closed my eyes.

  “But you’re not even looking.”

  “I don’t need to look. I just want to hear you talk about them.”

  So he did, talked so long that I felt like falling asleep. So I did.

  “Naaaavy.”

  My eyes slid open.

  “Hi.” Our faces were so close.

  “Hi,” I said, but my voice was hoarse. I swallowed and attempted it again.

  “I bored you to sleep.”

  “Lulled me to sleep,” I corrected. I was that relaxed kind of sleepy, right into my bones. Everything about me felt heavy and warm; comfortable and cozy with my leg and arm still draped across his body. “It was nice.”

  “Oh, yeah?” His hand came to my face and for a moment, I thought he was rubbing my cheek affectionately. But then I felt cold and wet left behind when he moved his hand.

  “Did you just put a fingerprint on me again?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.” I turned my face like I was going to rub it into his shirt, but he stopped me by holding me still. That time, I felt a distinct trickle down the side of my face. “Did you seriously just put more ice cream on my face?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I only do fingerprints. But you almost wiped it on my shirt.”

  “Well, then you have to clean it off.”

  “Fine.” He laughed and leaned over me, and for a second—a brief moment—I thought he was about to jump past me and leave me all alone.

  I turned my head to stop him just as I felt the tip of his tongue and the heat of his breath on my cheek. As my head turned, his tongue swiped over my lips.

  We both froze, neither of us moving away from one another. His mouth hovered over mine for several long, thudding heartbeats. In the dark, the unresistant trampoline under me, I felt the distinct weight of him dipping me further toward the ground.

  His mouth opened, and I waited in suspense for him to say something, my impatience growing thin. When he said my name, “Navy,” I didn’t let him end the word before pressing my mouth to his.

  He didn’t hesitate, kissing me back just as strongly as I kissed him. One of his arms slid under my back, as if he was afraid I’d slip right through the trampoline and fall away from him. My arms came around him, anchoring us to one another. I waited so long for this; I wasn’t ready to let go already.

  The kiss was slow, seeking and searching. My heartbeat was fast, anxious and excited. Somehow, we kissed like it was natural, like this was something we’d done together for years instead of something I’d only dreamed about. His lips fit perfectly over mine, as he released and kissed me, released and kissed me, until I was breathless with want and sick of waiting.

  He pulled inches away and the springs holding the trampoline to its frame squeaked a deafening sound. In the dark, I could make out the squint of his eyes. “Fuck,” he said. And I didn’t know if he was talking about the noise that interrupted our moment or the moment itself.


  “That’s loud,” I said, prompting a confirmation.

  He nodded, sighed, and laid his forehead on mine as his uneven breath shuddered over me. The hand under my back clenched into my shirt, pulling it taut in the front. My own arms around him hadn’t let go.

  I was eager to find out if the kiss was so great simply because I’d waited a long time for it. I was willing to try it again, to see if it was still just as incredible the second time. And, if it was still so wonderful thanks to the newness of it, I was prepared to try again a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. And as long as it took, until we felt nothing anymore.

  Because I knew that was impossible. My feelings for Keane weren’t temporary, and if anything this kiss had only solidified that fact.

  “Navy,” he said again. “I-I don’t know what to do. Where we go from here.”

  In all the years since I’d first realized my crush for Keane, I’d imagined moments like this one. But I had never imagined what he might say, and, of course, what I’d say in return. I summoned all my courage and said, “Just keep kissing me. We’ll figure it out.”

  7

  KEANE

  I couldn’t argue with her statement. Kissing was the best way to figure things out, romantically.

  Well, I guess talking too. But we were both in too deep to press pause and talk this through. And besides, I didn’t want to talk it out. I wanted to keep kissing Navy. My best friend. Whose lips were the softest I’d ever touched.

  I leaned over her, taking her shadowed face in for the first time in the dark. Her dark hair fanned all over her head, her dark eyes twinkling in the night. Her rosy lips curved in a way that made me wonder if I’d ever really looked at her before. If I’d ever observed all the little things that individually made Navy absolutely breathtaking. It was enough to sober a man.

  This time when I kissed her, I didn’t do it just to taste. I kissed her slowly, taking my time learning what kissing Navy was actually like—and quickly I understood that kissing Navy was unlike anything else. I teased her lips with my tongue, opening her mouth fraction by fraction until she opened more for me to explore deeper. I couldn’t get her close enough to me, and our fronts were fully pressed together. I felt every curve and angle of her body against mine and it was not enough, but also it was everything.