Page 67 of Late Nights

See? This was why staying friends was the only option. We weren’t even in a relationship, and I was already screwing up.

Me: I don’t want to lose you, Demi.

Demi: You won’t.

Demi: Good night, Cannon.

Reading her words gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t realized I’d needed since we’d gotten back from Lake Tahoe. I’d become so good at keeping people out that I worried I didn’t know how to let people in. But despite my hang-ups and my fears, Demi had made her way into my life, and I couldn’t risk giving that up. Not when she’d become one of the very few people I cared about. She meant too much to me.

I just had to hope that someday the feelings I had for her would subside.

Me: Good night.

21

Demi

Friday nights at The Bridger were always chaotic. I bet I walked five miles going back and forth from one end of the bar to the other. My feet were killing me, and I couldn’t wait to take a shower and relax.

Opening the door to the apartment, I wasn’t surprised to see Cannon on the couch playing Call of Duty. His dark hair was mussed and slightly damp. He always got home before me because after the bar closed, I had to stay behind and clean up.

He looked back over his shoulder, his smile making my legs go all jelly, and it had nothing to do with having been on them for the last several hours.

I hadn’t made any progress on getting my head or my heart to get on board the friend-ship. Pun intended. Not that I expected my feelings to go away in a matter of days, but I had hoped they would begin to lessen, but no such luck. I’d also thought that staying away from him would help, but that hadn’t either. If anything, it had made me miss and want him more.

“Hey, I’m glad you’re home,” he said, his voice wrapping me up like a hug.

Ugh. Did he have to be so cute? It was a normal thing to say to your friend or roommate, but hearing him say it made me want to go sit next to him and snuggle into his side. That wasn’t what friends did, though, so I refrained.

I gave him a small smile back. “It’s good to be home. Tonight was brutal.” I shucked off my shoes, shuffling toward the bathroom. I bet I looked more like a zombie than a human right now.

“Yeah, it was crazy busy tonight. You seemed to handle it well, though.”

“I didn’t look like I was barely surviving and trying not to fall over?” I asked.

He laughed. “No, not at all.”

I loved his laugh. Neither of us had been laughing as much as we usually did with each other, and it was nice to hear his laughter again.

I took a shower, rinsing off the remnants from working at the bar. I threw on a silk lilac pajama short set and was about to get in bed like I’d been doing the last several nights, but thinking of Cannon sitting on the couch a few feet away with his charming smile and swoon-worthy laugh had me opening my door to go out and join him.

After we’d texted the other night, I had felt better about our situation. Cannon had his own struggles he needed to work through, and I wanted to be there to support him, even if it didn’t push us in the direction of a romantic relationship. I wanted him to be happy.

Stepping out into the living room, I was glad that he was still there and hadn’t gone to bed himself. It was past two in the morning, and the fact that he stayed up late every time I worked had my heart doing a happy dance. It was thoughtful and sweet and made me want to wrap my arms around him.

I mentally smacked myself. That was the second time in less than thirty minutes I had thought about cuddling up to him. I needed to get a grip. Having a game controller in my hands should help keep them off Cannon. Hopefully.

“Hey, do you have room for me over there?” I asked.

His eyes left the screen, landing on me, his gaze raking over me. My skin felt feverish from his stare alone.

“Always,” he said, his voice gravelly and oh, so sexy.

I had to work not to sigh. Was it awful of me that I loved how I had such an effect on him? Even in my pajamas, no makeup, and wet hair, he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

When I sat down next to him, I made sure to leave at least half a cushion between us, hoping it would stop me from reaching out and touching him while we played. I had a reputation for not being good at keeping my hands to myself when we played video games together.

We joined a new game of Call of Duty, and although I had gotten better over the last month, I still died way too many times. At least now, the group chat didn’t blow up with how awful I was, so I was definitely improving.

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