Page 10 of Faking the Play

“Thanks.” She seemed to settle into the couch. “Right now, I just want to not think about it. Not about Jason or school or what’s going to happen tomorrow when classes start. I just want to turn off my brain.”

“That calls for classic comedy,” Ryan said as he pulled up one of our streaming apps. “I hope this is still one of your favorites.”

The momentThe Princess Brideshowed on the screen, a smile broke out across her face, so wide and bright that it was like seeing the sun come out from behind a cloud.

“It is,” she said. “I just haven’t seen it in a long time.”

I didn’t know about the other guys, but I remembered exactly when the last time was that I saw this movie. It was the weekend before the three of us decided that hanging out with our brainy little friend would ruin any chance we had at fitting in with the rest of the football team. After the movie had ended, Ryan’smom drove Amelia home and then that was it. I’d never been able to bring myself to watch it again.

Even if I hadn’t admitted it back then, I knew we were assholes.

AfterThe Princess Bride, we swapped pizza for ice cream and continued the nostalgia theme by watchingThe Goonies. Yeah, it came out before we were even born, but Ryan’s mom had a collection of movies that she’d loved as a teenager, so most of what we’d watched back then had been from the eighties.

As we watched, we talked, but not about anything serious. Definitely not about what had happened, or about the bad part of our past. Instead, we did the whole “walk down memory lane” thing, covering the things we hadn’t touched on earlier today. We were on the subject of mementos when Ryan said he needed to call it a night since his first class was early tomorrow. Logan had already been asleep in the chair for nearly twenty minutes.

I should have offered to take Amelia back to her dorm, but instead, I stood and held out my hand.

“Can I show you something?”

She took my hand and let me help her up, but it took her a moment to let it go, making me wonder if I was the only one who felt that spark whenever we touched. I didn’t bring it up as I led her back to my room.

We sat on my bed next to each other as I reached underneath and pulled out a box. My heart pounded, but I knew she wasn’t going to make fun of me. “The guys still don’t know about this.”

When I opened the box, she gasped. “Is that…?”

I lifted out a notebook and handed it to her. “Our notebook of fanfiction.”

“Did you ever finish the one with Starfire and Aquaman?” she asked as she began flipping through it.

I shook my head. “I couldn’t write any of it without you, but I didn’t want to get rid of it either. I haven’t looked at it in years.”

I stretched out on my bed and she moved up next to me, resting the notebook on our laps. The two of us were really into superhero comics when we were kids, and at some point, we started writing fanfiction about our favorite characters. It was only ever a thing for the two of us, and I hadn’t let myself admit how much I’d missed it until this very moment.

How much I’d missed her.

As we read through our old stories, I found myself looking at her more than at the page, and I realized that I’d do anything to keep from losing this again.

Chapter six

Amelia

Ifloated on a warm cloud, drifting comfortably. Far more so than usual, which was strange. While I’d become accustomed to my dorm room mattress, I still wouldn’t describe it as comfortable. Dorm room. Right. I was dreaming.

Except dreaming didn’t explain why the mattress was so fluffy, or why the sheets were so soft.

Or why there was something poking me in the middle of my back.

A soft sound behind me had my eyes flying open and my entire body going stiff as my brain scrambled to wake up enough to figure out where I was and what was going on.

Light gray walls with football paraphernalia didn’t really narrow it down to anything but “not my dorm room.” Thick mattress with soft cotton sheets. Again, no help.

And there was an arm around me.

My pulse kicked up as I looked down at the muscled forearm resting on my waist. A small burn scar on the tanned skin told me it was Ethan’s arm. Which meant I’d fallen asleep in Ethan’s bed last night.

And, unless I was mistaken, that was Ethan’s erection pressing against my back.

Shit.

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