Page 34 of Friends Don't Kiss

“You will be. How long is it?”

I take a beat, Colton’s faith in me hitting me hard. “Three months.”

He looks at me intently, making me almost squirm. “Okay.” His voice comes out low, yet strong.

I don’t know what“okay”means right now, so I stand up, collect our dishes, and take them to the kitchen area.

I hear his chair scrape the floor behind me. “I’ll take care of this, you go pack.”

Not five minutes later, his footsteps sound in the short hallway. “What are you wearing tonight?” he asks once in my bedroom. From the corner of my eye, I can tell he’s just as lost as I am, looking at all the clothes accumulated on my bed.

“Hell if I know.” What do you wear to your evil twin’s engagement party?

“Where’s your red dress?”

“My what?”

He produces something from the very back of my closet. An old memory jumps at me, from a time that seems to be slipping away—real fast.

“I can’t wear that.”

“Why not?” Colton asks.

This is the dress I wore to the prom-like party the community college organized after our little graduation. I’d never been to a prom, and I was so full of hope for the future. I can’t say that my life turned out bad—it didn’t—but at that time, I still had some pretty unrealistic expectations. I thought by now I’d have my own legit business with employees, a storefront, and a state-wide reputation. Turns out having seed money can be crucial to getting a start in life, and seed money doesn’t grow under the foot of a runaway teenager. Others in our class had their lucky breaks. I’m still waiting for mine. I’m hoping the all-expenses-paid training in Paris might be that.

“D’you think I could Airbnb my apartment?” Nowthat’san idea to make some extra cash while I’m gone.

“Don’t change the topic, grasshopper. Why can’t you wear that dress?”

“My body changed,” I declare.

“Not that much,” he answers straight away, making me blush slightly.

I huff but don’t move. I am not trying this clingy dress on, and certainly not for Colton.

“Come on.” He holds the dress at arm’s length, toward me. “There’s gonna be dancing. This dress moves real nice on you.” He gives it a little shake as if to prove his point.

“How would you know?” I’m not looking for trouble with my question—just for answers.

He frowns at me. “That’s the dress you wore at the party the community college organized for us. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Don’t thinkanyonefailed to notice.”

Heat flushes my face. “You spent the night with whats-her-face.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I wasn’t sleeping with anyone at the time.”

I cross my arms. “That’s not what I said.”

He frowns, his mouth setting in a thin line. “I asked you to come with me to that thing, and you said something about not shitting where you ate.”

This isn’t going well. “See, this is why we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“This what?”

“This blurring the lines. We’re great as friends.”

“The only person blurring the lines is you. You go all jealous on me because years ago I danced with some chick I don’t even remember but clearly you do. Wouldn’t have happened if you’d gone with me. We would have danced together, had a good time. Instead you turned me down. Rudely. Hurt my feelings a little,” he adds with a smile that belies his words.

“And we wouldn’t be friends anymore.”

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