Page 6 of Rumi: The Hawthornes

“Alright then,” Nana said happily, starting the car.

A million things ran through my head as she backed out of the parking space. It was one thing to chat with someone you figured you wouldn’t see again, but now he was here, in our car, going with us to the freaking river. He’d just invited himself like it was no big deal! I wished I had that kind of confidence. I wanted to look back at him and say something cool and funny and awesome, but my mind was completely blank.

I jerked as his hands settled on my shoulders and squeezed. “Hell, yeah,” he whispered excitedly in my ear. “River!”

Rumi invited himself over to hang out every day for a week. The week after that, we started actually inviting him. By the third week, we just kind of assumed that he’d show up at some point. He became my best friend. If he sometimes looked at me in a certain way that gave me the roller coaster feeling or accidentally brushed up against me, making my skin tingle or said something that made me blush beet red, well, I just ignored it. He became too important. Two truths guided our relationship—boyfriends always left, but best friends didn’t… and I was irrevocably in love with Rumi Hawthorne.

Chapter 1

Rumi

I’d like tosay that alcohol had clouded my judgment, or weed had made me a bit too hazy, or use literally any other excuse as to why I’d royally fucked up and slept with my best friend—but I’d be lying. As I pretended to sleep, my face half buried in a pillow and my ass hanging in the breeze, I could hear her quietly searching for her clothes.

I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to find her bra. I could feel the underwire wedged between my thigh and the mattress. The nice thing to do was put her out of her misery and hand the stupid thing to her—but that wasn’t going to happen. If I tried that, she’d know I was awake. She’d look at me with those big blue eyes and I’d know everything she was feeling. The embarrassment. The remorse.

I didn’t want to know. And yeah, maybe that made me a coward, but I didn’t fucking care. My head was throbbing and my guts felt like they were going to turn inside out at any minute, and I really,reallydidn’t want to have any kind of awkward discussion with Nova about what we’d done. After years of ignoring the spark between us, I’d gone and stuck my dick in her and now everything was going to be shitty and weird, and I only had myself to blame.

“Jesus,” Nova muttered, her voice getting closer. Without any warning, her hand slid between my hip and the bed.

“What the—” I yelped, realizing a second too late that I was supposed to be sleeping. I belatedly rubbed at my face and looked at her blearily. She was already dressed in her jeans and tank top. “Nova?”

“You could’ve told me you were laying on my bra,” she griped, pulling it from beneath me.

“What?” I was still trying to play it off, but she saw right through me.

“Stop acting like you were asleep,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re such a fucking coward.”

“What are you talking about?” I pulled the sheet up to my waist. I’d been fine with her getting a good look at my ass, but not while we were talking. That felt weird.

“You think I don’t know when you’re sleeping?” she asked dryly, turning away. My mouth watered as she pulled her tank top off until it was hanging around her neck to put the bra on. “You snore.”

As soon as she was done, she turned back around. “And you fart.”

“I do not.”

“Not while you’re awake.” She shrugged. “You bust ass all night when you’re sleeping.”

I choked on my own spit, staring at her in horror. “I do not.”

“You do,” she said flatly, walking over to my dresser to grab the ratty backpack she took with her everywhere. “Your brothers warned me about it years ago, and sure enough…”

“You’re so full of shit,” I argued, sitting up.

I’d done a lot of gross shit in front of Nova—scratched my balls, hawked loogies, shot snot from my nose, gotten ripe as fuck when we went camping for a week and I’d refused to shower, but never, not once, had I ever farted in her presence. “You’ve spent the night a thousand times. You would have said something before now.”

She just shrugged, walking over to the edge of the bed. “I didn’t want to embarrass you,” she said with a sympathetic grimace. “Sorry, man, you fucking stink.”

I would’ve been horrified. Embarrassed to my fucking bones. But then I caught the twitch at the right side of her mouth.

“You’re a fuckin’ liar,” I yelled, pointing at her as I barked out a sarcastic laugh.

She lost all composure as she watched me. Her laughter filled the room.

I lunged.

“Rumi,” she screeched as I yanked her onto the bed.

“You were the one busting ass,” I said as we wrestled around on the bed. I was stronger, but she was flexible as hell and fast. As soon as I’d pinned an arm, she had it free again. When I’d wrapped my arms around her in a bear hug, she dug her pointy shin into the spot just below my shoulder.

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