Page 35 of Charming my Best Friend

His eyes looked up at me, but he kept his head down. “I want you to just sit there and look pretty.”

“I said I would though.”

“You need to concentrate on your drinking,” he said. “You still have a ways to go to catch up to me.”

“True,” I said, lifting my beer to my lips.

I watched him grab some cheese and jalapenos out of the fridge before pulling an unopened bag of Tostito’s scoops from one of the cabinets.

“Scoops!” I said. “Scoops are my favorite.”

He laughed. “I know. You explained their merits to me at length one night, and ever since then all the other tortilla chips seem horribly ineffective.”

“Did I?” I tilted my head. “I don’t remember that.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. It was the first night I ever saw you drink cheap vodka straight from the bottle.”

I felt my eyes go wide. “When was that?”

He dumped some chips on a plate. “Around the time your first fake got taken away.”

I shook my head. “What a rip off that thing was.”

He laughed. “I thought you made a good Monica Applebottom.”

“Shut up.”

“What were you supposed to be? Thirty-two?”

“Twenty-eight. From West Virginia.”

“Oh, yeah.” Aiden pulled a knife out of the drawer and sunk it into the block of cheddar.

I was pretty sure I couldn’t see that much better than he could, but the slices he was cutting were as thick as his fingers and liable to choke someone who’d had as much Jack as he had.

“Let me do that,” I said, sliding down from the barstool and walking around the counter.

“Are you just being nice or do you think I can’t melt cheese on chips?”

“I’m being nice,” I lied, nudging him out of the way.

He handed me the knife before scooting to the side and grabbing his beer. After he took a sip, he slipped the taquitos in the preheated oven and resumed leaning against the counter beside me.

“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling his eyes on me.

“No, I’m good,” he said. “Just watching.”

I laid the thin slices of cheese over the top of the chips and went to the sink to wash the peppers. I gave them a quick rinse and looked over my shoulder. “Do you have a paper towel or something?”

Aiden handed one over my shoulders and I grabbed it, drying the peppers over the sink. When I turned around, he was standing right in front of me and my heart jumped in my throat.

For a second, he just looked at me, and I stared back at him for what felt like five minutes but was probably closer to five seconds. He was making a face I’d never seen him make before, and if it had been any other guy on the planet, I would’ve recognized it as the universal, “I’m going to kiss you now face.”

But it was Aiden. And it was me. Making nachos. I needed to get a grip.

“Can I use the bathroom?” I asked, laying the peppers down on the counter and excusing myself.

He didn’t say anything as I disappeared around the corner.

By the time I closed the bathroom door behind me, I was out of breath.

I looked in the mirror and smacked my cheeks. I was freaking out for no reason. After that many drinks, I should’ve been relaxed, not agitated.

I was just making a snack with my best friend after a drinking session, or mid drinking session if I didn’t ruin our good time. It was nothing out of the ordinary and something we’d done hundreds of times. I was supposed to be a friendly distraction and nothing more.

So why the hell was I so flustered and thinking inappropriate thoughts about his fingers and reading into everything like a total nut case? How many times did he have to tell me that he just wanted me to hang out and look pretty before I believed him?

The guy just broke up with his girlfriend for chrisssakes!

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