Page 36 of The Best Friend and the Shortstop

She stops in her tracks, and I catch up to her in seconds. I step in front of her and glance over her shoulder before looking her in the eyes.

“What, making sure Omar and Brian aren’t around to see you talk to me?” She folds her arms over her chest and pops out her hip. Fuck, just like her mom. Like my mom!

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. I have to be honest with her. That’s something that never can go away between us.

“Yeah, shit. I’m sorry, I was. I just—” I lift my chin and meet her eyes, the hurt even more obvious now, thanks to the tears pooling in the corners.

“Dammit,” she huffs, running her sleeve over her eyes. Always the tough girl.

“No. That look on your face? That’s my fault. And I know it. I’m just struggling.”

I shake my head and shrug. Her eyes narrow.

“I asked you,” she says.

My stomach tightens, and I know what she means, but I don’t answer because I swore I’d be honest here. And I don’t want to be honest. The truth is going to sound awful, but I swear it’s not.

“You know what I’m talking about, Alex! I asked you if you regretted what we did. And you said no. But is that not the truth? Do you? Do you regret kissing me?” She steps in close and drops her hands.

“Seeing me? All of me?” Her voice is raspy. I did that to her too.

I lick my lips and mine my soul.

“No, Nikki. I do not regret what we did. And if we went back in time right now, I would do it again. And I wouldn’t regret it again.”

She chews at her lips that are held together tight.

“But?” she finally lets out.

I swallow.

“But . . . I don’t know what’s next.” There, that’s as close as I can get to explaining this churn of uncertainty.

“What do you want to be next?”

That question lands in my stomach like a brick. I’m living a dream. Nikki has always been in a box, one I’ve built and kept tidy and been very careful not to mess up. Now there is no box. And what if that means she disappears?

“How do I be your friend, and also—” I widen my eyes and tilt my head.

“See me naked?” she laughs out.

I huff and turn around, grabbing the back of my neck in frustration.

“Don’t make this a joke,” I demand as I shuffle my feet until I’m facing her again.

Her expression doesn’t read joke. Her frown has softened, though. She moves into me, pulling my arm down and skimming her palm down my forearm until she takes my hand in hers and flattens it on the center of her chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says. And for the first time since I left her room this morning, my shoulders relax and my stomach pauses its churn.

“No?” I stare deep into her eyes, not a hint of anything but resolve in them.

She shakes her head then slowly inches closer, moving her other hand to the neck of my hoodie as she lifts up on her toes.

I suck in my bottom lip and nod before kissing her, soft and sweet, nothing like the rabid animal I was last night. Her lips are like a gift, and just having her touch me somehow makes things better.

“Now, are you coming to this party with me? Or not?” Her mouth lifts on one side.

I roll my eyes, then swing an arm around her and coax her to walk alongside me, stuck to me like glue.

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