Page 22 of Imagine Me and You

Yeah, things were normal now. And he was glad.

Sam was happily surprised at how easy dinner had been. And they were on to cake and a movie, and things were still easy. She’d picked a rom com because that was what she liked, and since she humored Jace’s need for car chases and explosions on a regular basis, he had to deal with her love of slapstick and happy endings.

They were keeping a healthy distance between them on the couch, and yeah, it was a little healthier than normal, butthat was probably good. Because clearly, things were a little more combustible between them than they’d realized. So taking precaution was a good idea, really.

The popcorn bowl sat in the yawning blank cushion space between them—not in anyone’s lap. It was just smart to do it that way. As conscious as she’d been about what was beneath the bowl that last time it had ended up in his lap, she would be a million times more conscious of it now that she’d felt every hard delicious perfect inch between her thighs, taking her to heaven faster and better than any other man ever.

He’d had clothes on, and still, comparing the quality of the orgasm she’d received to what she’d experienced with her exes had been like comparing first class to economy. A superior ride in all senses of the word.

But she wasn’t thinking about that. She was watching a movie and not thinking about it. Because she should be good. She should be satisfied and stuff because they’d gotten all the tension dealt with, so to speak, and now they were being normal.

She took a deep breath and reached for the popcorn bowl, and her fingers brushed against his. She jerked back like she’d been burned, turning to face him, her eyes wide.

Jace was staring straight ahead, his posture rigid, his eyes focused on the TV. He didn’t look like he’d just been zapped by a rush of electricity.

And she immediately felt stupid because when did she react like that to him touching her hand? Never. So why start now? Because she knew how good that hand felt against her bare skin? Because she wanted to feel that hand on her bare breast, and her butt and...and...other places?

No. Surely not. So inappropriate. And she wasn’t being inappropriate. She was being normal. She checked this time to see if his hand was in the bowl before she reached in and took another handful. She was taking no more chances.

The electricity between them was just hazardous. And she hated it. Because she couldn’t deal with it. At least, she couldn’t deal with it in a healthy, mature way that didn’t involve throwing herself on his body and breathing heavy.

It was the proximity—it had to be. It was like cranking up the heat on something that had been on a low simmer for a lot longer than she would like to admit.

And last night it had boiled over.

She turned her attention back to the movie and tried to focus except...oh, that kiss on screen was getting very passionate. And...how had she forgotten this part? How? How had she forgotten there was a shower scene? Of all things.

It was so very bad. She and Jace had just had their own, less awesomely choreographed scene in a shower, and now this was just making her think of that. Well, she was already thinking of it so it was making her think of it more.

She didn’t want to look at Jace. It would be awkward. But the more she didn’t look at him the more awkward it got because she was so purposefully not looking at it him that it was getting painful.

Oh, geez. How had this happened? How had they gone from best friends to this? To her sitting frozen on the couch afraid to move and break the band of electricity stretching around them? Because if she did, she would either snap it and things would just fizzle all to hell with the uncomfortable tension, and he wouldn’t want to sit next to her ever againever. Or worse, she would set off a spark that would ignite them both and she’d find herself flat on her back again, riding the ridge of his arousal.

But she looked at him anyway, in spite of the inner voice screaming at her not to. She couldn’t do anything else.

He was looking at the TV, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. She looked back at the screen and her skin prickled.Some serious action was happening there, and she was feeling envious and edgy.

“It’s going to get better, right?” she said.

She wasn’t going to pretend everything was fine—not when it wasn’t. She’d tried that earlier and the attempt had been laughable. He knew her too well. And she respected him too much to lie to him. She respected their friendship too much.

“This?” he asked, and she knew he knew she was talking about that invisible crackle of electricity, the one you couldn’t see. But damn, you could feel it. “I don’t know, Sam.”

“It has to. How else are we going to...live together for the next month? How else are we going to be friends?”

“It’ll get better.”

“But you just said you didn’t know it would get better!”

“I lied one of the times. Pick which one disturbs you less and call it the truth.”

“It will get better.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will.”

“Or we just have sex and get it over with.”

Jace did a literal spit take with his beer, a fine sheen of moisture coating the TV screen. “What?”

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