Page 10 of The Best Friend Power Play

"Thanks for the lift, man," I say a few minutes later as he brings his Range Rover to a stop in front of Hannah's bungalow.

"No problem."

He cuts the engine and looks over at me with a smile, which is odd because neither one of us has said anything funny.

His eyes flick to the front door then back to me. "It's nice you're surprising Hannah by showing up a couple of days early."

"That's because I'm a nice guy," I say, keeping my delivery dry, unsure where Fraser is heading with this.

"How do you know she's not at home?" he asks.

It's Sunday, the one and only day Hannah doesn't work at her flower shop.

"I texted Chester a few minutes ago." I hold up my cell phone. "He told me she went to the grocery store."

"So once you drop your luggage off here, you're?—"

"Going to surprise her at the grocery store, yes. Hey, look out the window, Fraser. See that tortoise? It's going to reach wherever it's going faster than you are. I assume you're trying to make a point."

"No, I'm not." His smile broadens. "Okay. Maybe I am."

"Help me out and use some words."

He turns sideways so he's facing me. "I'm going to paraphrase what a doofus once told me."

Why do I get the feeling that doofus is me? "O-kay."

"This will require accompanying hand actions."

I hastily jerk my hands back and out of his reach.

He laughs. "My hands, doofus. Not yours. Here. Let me make my point."

"Please do. I'd like to get to the grocery store some time this year."

He lifts his right index finger into the air. "You."

He lifts his left index finger. "Hannah."

He smooshes his fingers together. "Point made?"

I press my head against the headrest. He's throwing back at me the same thing I said about him and Evie in their early days. The only difference is, I was right about them. He's wrong about this.

I've lost count how many times I've had to explain to people that Hannah and I are not a couple. Why can no one accept that a man and a woman can just be friends?

"First of all, no." I shoot him an unimpressed glare. "Second of all, no."

He snickers. "Look. I know we've had this conversation before, but I've been picking up on…signs."

"What sort of signs?"

He drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "Remember the night we lost the fourth game in the third round of the divisional playoffs and you, me, Evie, and Hannah went to the diner afterward?"

"Yeah."

"They were talking, and you and I were talking, and then Hannah overheard you mention something about possibly spending the summer here. Her eyes lit up."

"So? We're friends. Friends like hanging out together."

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