Page 48 of You Had Me at Chocolate

Their sizzle didn’t count.

“And might there be a situation where you could be more than friends? You are living together after all.”

Clem glanced up from her brownie, startled. “We’re not living together.”

Rhonda’s raised eyebrows called bullshit. “What would you call it then?”

“He’s a… house guest. He’s staying with me until he can find a rental.”

“He being Jude Barlow, ex-celebrity chef and all-round hottie?”

“We’re friends. And even if we weren’t, I have enough on my plate right now, don’t you think?”

Those eyebrows drew together. Rhonda had never understood holding back—in anything. Where Clem was measured, her bestie was impulsive. “You have to acknowledge he is a hottie, right?”

Good lord, Rhonda had no idea. A hottie with skills. “Yes.”

“So… ever heard of friends with benefits? I know Clem 2.0 is open to a holiday fling, why not a Marietta fling?”

“Because we’re—”

“Friends,” Rhonda finished.

“Yes.” She frowned at her bestie. “And when I leave next year, and he stays and the fling is over, how do we get back to what we had before?” They’d managed one night okay but a fling was a whole other kettle of fish.

“You and Reuben seem to manage okay.”

“Reuben and I weren’t—”

“Yes, you were,” Rhonda interrupted. “You were friends before you started dating.”

“We were friendly, not friends.” And they’d fallen into a mutually convenient sexual relationship but it had never been anything too serious. Sure, the sex had been good and it had been nice to have a plus-one to accompany her places but they were much better friends—now—than they’d ever been as partners. “Not like what Jude and I had. Have.”

There was too much history in their friendship to survive a romance gone wrong.

“Now…” Clem continued, “if Jude had just been passing through for a few days or a couple of weeks and then gone again… maybe a dalliance could have worked.” She took a beat to let the delicious possibilities of that sink into her brain. “But he’s making Marietta his home and I’m on my way out. We both have things we want to achieve. It would be stupid to derail that now we’ve finally figured those things out.”

“It could be even stupider to not let it play out.”

“Until it came to the end and we wrecked a perfectly good friendship.”

“What if”—Rhonda leaned in on her elbows in a conspiratorial fashion—“it didn’t have to end? There are these things called planes and you know, the internet. There’s even,” she lowered her voice, “phone sex. New York’s not that far away, Clem, and long-distance relationships can work.”

Clem refused to give the lure of such thoughts any oxygen. She couldn’t start anew, move forward, while looking back. If she was serious about switching up her life she had to embrace what was in the future and give it a fair shot—not be pining over something she’d left behind. Right?

“What I really need is him to be a friend right now. And I need you to drop it.”

“Okay, okay.” Rhonda threw her hands up in surrender as she flopped back into her chair. “Fine.” She picked up her spoon then casually asked, “Do you mind if I have a crack then?”

Clem blinked, stunned, at the question. She shouldn’t mind—Rhonda was a great person who she loved dearly. And, objectively speaking, she and Jude would probably make a great couple. But, yeah, she minded.

She seriously freaking minded.

“Oh my god.” Rhonda burst out laughing. “You should see your face right now.” She shook her head. “Friend my ass.”

Then she grinned and stabbed her fork into the brownie.

*

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