Page 48 of Here's to Now

She doesn’t respond, so I step on the gas and head that way.

“What’s got you in such a cheerful mood?”

“What?” I say, crossing over the threshold and into Haley’s apartment, swinging a bag toward her. “Can’t I just smile, be happy, and bring my favorite best friend something delicious?”

Her eyes narrow. “Depends on your motive.”

“No motive,” I say as I continue into the apartment and crash down onto the couch. I hear the crinkle of the bag and listen for the squeal of delight.

I’m not disappointed.

“You’re thebestbest friend ever! Oh, man! How’d you know these were my favorites?”

“Favorites? Plural? No way, sweetie. One is mine.”

“Good luck prying them from my hands.”

I shoot her a look. “Did you just practically beg me to wrestle you while you’re nearly naked in your pajamas? Why do you always have to make things sexual?”

Her cheeks flash red, her mouth gaping open. “I-I did…I did not!”

Winking, I reach for the remote and press the little red Netflix button. I’m feeling feisty tonight. My evening with my siblings couldn’t have gone better, and now all I want to do is tease Haley, watchAmerican Horror Story, and eat the delicious ice cream I brought over for her. “I know you want me, doll. All you have to do is say the word.”

“You wish!” she calls from the kitchen.

“Grab me a big spoon!” I holler back.

I queue up the next episode, listening as she slams around the kitchen, muttering about how she can’t believe her “best friend” is a total pig. Then she switches over to something I’m so not expecting. She’s lamenting on how poor her sex life has been lately, how she wishes she’d have just picked me up for a one-nighter and called it good.

Hold the phone a minute.

Haley wanted to pick me up for a one-night stand? No. No way. That’s not even close to what happened. How could that have been her intention?

It wasn’t. I heard her wrong. She just wanted company. She said so herself.

I’m still trying to process everything when she plops down next to me, shoving my ice cream into my hands. “Here.”

I glance over at her, noticing for the first time how haphazardly her hair is pushed up into a bun, how short her pajama bottoms are, and that her slouchy silly Disney shirt is so long it covers her ass so it looks like she’s not even wearing the short shorts. With zero makeup on, she truly looks like she gives no fucks about her appearance. And yet, she looks gorgeous. Everything about her is alluring. The fact that she doesn’t just see some young punk kid running amuck and causing trouble when she looks at me makes her even more desirable. She seesme. I like that. I likeher.

If I wanted to, I could kiss her right now. I bet she’d turn to putty in my hands. She’d mewl and paw at me, beg me even. I’d start slowly, kissing her at just the right speed, pressing our lips and eventually our tongues together with the perfect amount of pressure. It’d be sensual and intoxicating—and she’d love every second of it. I’m not being an egotistical asshat; I’m just a really good fucking kisser, and I know it.

But I can’t. I don’t want to go there. She’s a friend, someone who’s quickly become a good friend. I don’t fuck my good friends.

No matter how tempting they are.

Instead, I settle for an easy grin and tease, “What? No sprinkles?”

She rolls her eyes. “Grow up and press play.”

“You know you love having me around.”

“I’ve known you for like two weeks, Gaige. I don’t hate having you around, but you can’t throw out the L word just yet.”

“But we’re best friends!” I argue.

“Worst best friend ever,” she says flatly.

Nudging her with my elbow, I sink lower into the couch, making myself comfortable, digging into my ice cream and effectively ignoring everything inside that’s screaming against the idea ofnotkissing her.

It works. It’s still working over an hour later. Ice cream eaten, a blanket thrown over us, and snuggled up together in the most platonic way we can be, we’re still chatting away and frequently pausing to dissect the episodes as we go.

In the last few hours, not once has a smile slipped from my face, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. Too long. It feels…amazing.

I could get used to this.

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