Page 28 of (Not Really) Faking It With My Best Friend's Brother

He paused for a moment, moving closer to me with a box in his hands. “Let’s get these boxes in the car first.”

Together, we navigated our way out of the community center and toward my little blue sedan in the parking lot. As we set down the boxes in the trunk, Nate turned to me. "Okay," he said, his voice low and serious. "Let's talk."

I leaned against the trunk of my car, suddenly feeling too close to him. Too aware of his proximity. My heart pounded in my chest, and I had to force myself to meet his eyes. "On the stage...I didn’t plan for that. And I mean, not that it was bad or anything. It felt right," I confessed.

"But it was just for show, wasn't it?" His eyes searched mine for an answer. We stood there, suspended in a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity.

"I… I don't know," I admitted, my heart thudding painfully against my ribs. "I need to know where we stand, Nate. I can't keep swinging between being your pretend girlfriend and having these... these feelings."

His eyes softened at my admission, and his strong hands gently grasped my shoulders as he stepped closer. His proximity was intoxicating and heady, as if he were both the question and the answer.

"Susan." His voice was sincere and steady. "I don't want you to pretend anymore."

My breath hitched at his words. I watched as a myriad of emotions played out on his face - uncertainty, apprehension, hope.

"Are you saying…?"

His mouth tilted up in a small, uncertain smile. "I'm saying that maybe we stop pretending. Let's see where this goes."

My hands instinctively went to his arms, feeling the solid warmth beneath his flannel shirt. "Will we tell Emily? What if it ruins everything? "

Nate’s hand came up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering in a way that sent a delightful shiver down my spine. "That's a bridge we'll cross. But for now," he paused, his thumb brushing against my cheek tenderly, "I want to explore this thing between us without an audience."

"Okay," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper. He smiled, a full ear-to-ear grin as if he had just won the lottery.

Just as we were about to lose ourselves in this unexpected moment of shared confession, Baxter's bark shattered the stillness. I had tied his leash around a post on the steps while we went to load the boxes in my car.

"Guess that's my cue," I chuckled, the sound slightly shaky as the adrenaline started to ebb away. "I better get Baxter and get home."

Nate nodded, his smile softening. "Yeah, it's getting late. I’ll see you at the festival tomorrow?"

"I wouldn't miss it," I breathed, my heart racing. As I walked away, his hand slipped out of mine, leaving me longing for more. I could feel my cheeks flush as I thought about the electricity between us, and I couldn't wait to see him again.

Chapter twelve

Nate

The air was thick with the sweet scent of popcorn, cotton candy, and other carnival treats. I felt Susan's hand brush lightly against mine, a silent acknowledgment of our true feelings and the nervous energy buzzing between us.

We made our way through the crowd, past booths filled with laughing children and couples strolling hand in hand. A banner for the three-legged race caught my eye. I glanced at Susan to find her looking at me, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

"We're not doing that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though the idea of our legs bound together sent my pulse racing.

"Oh, why not?" she teased, with a wickedly innocent smile that made it impossible to resist her. "Afraid of tripping over your two left feet?"

Before I could defend my superior coordination, her hand was in mine, leading us toward the sign-up booth.

With our legs bound together, we lined up at the start of the race. Susan shot me a look of mock seriousness as she adjusted her glasses.

"And no pulling me down," she warned, shaking her finger at me, "I've got a reputation to maintain."

"As the town's most graceful librarian?" I quipped, earning a swat on my arm and a laugh that echoed around us.

Our joking was interrupted by the starting gun. It caught us off guard, and Susan let out a small yelp, almost toppling us both.

“Whoa there,” I steadied her with an arm around her waist.

We nearly toppled over more than once, saved only by my arm around Susan's waist or her hand grasping my shoulder.

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