Page 68 of Sure

She stuffs the rest of her taco into her mouth then dabs her lips with a napkin.

“I’m not confessing my love,” I repeat. “I just… We have these moments together where it feels more intimate. Like we’re confiding in each other. And I love those moments.”

My best friend watches me, her eyes squinting in the sun.

“So…tell me what that looks like.”

“Well…” I pause, not exactly sure how to explain it. “It’s hard to explain. We just…talk. About lots of things. His parents in South Carolina. My time at UCSB. Teddy’s new friends. Baseball. Really, we talk about whatever. It feels… I don’t know. Like more than just talking.”

“Well, here’s what I’ll say,” Leighton says, her tone suddenly becoming serious. “Don’t make a move unless you’re sure. Because you’re one of the only people I know who has her head on straight, and I’d hate for you to get too emotional about this then do something you regret that will result in, like, you losing your job or something.”

I scoff. “I’m not going to lose my job.”

Leighton’s eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t say anything else.

“I’m not.”

But the truth behind Leighton’s words stays with me for the rest of the day and the following week.

The more I think about it, the more I worry I might have been pushing myself too much at Colton when he’s just being a kind, nice, friendly boss. What if he’s just being nice to me, and I’m starting to read things into it? For all I know, he could be going out and seeing other women on Friday nights, not just August.

So that next Friday, when Colton goes out looking sexy as hell, of course all I can picture is him going to the bar and hanging out with someone like Shannon or Chloe, one of August’s friends who clearly have no problem being completely tacky and hitting on a widower.

In an attempt to distract myself from visions of Colton and some beautiful woman out on a date, I turn on a late-night movie, one of those 80s romcoms that are always on TV. I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, I hear my name.

“Emily.”

I open my eyes, but it takes a second for me to wake up from the snuggly slumber that has lulled me under.

“Emily, you fell asleep on the couch.”

When my eyes focus, I realize Colton is crouched next to me, looking and smelling as wonderful as he did before he left. My eyes track over his face, trying to identify whether or not any hands have run through his hair, if he has any lipstick marks on his skin.

“You can stay here if you want, but I thought I’d give you the chance to go to your bed.”

I lick my lips and shake my head, rising slightly. “No, I can…go to my bed,” I say, my words choppy. But then I fall back to the couch. “God, why am I so tired? What time is it?”

“It’s after two.”

My eyes fly to his. “In the morning?”

He nods.

“Are you just getting back?”

Colton seems to pause before he nods again.

I grit my teeth and nod then push myself up so I’m sitting. I run a hand through my hair, which is probably a total mess.

“I’ll go upstairs. Sorry for falling asleep on the couch.”

My words come out brashly with the knowledge he’s been out all night, the wound I feel much more raw than I would have expected. More raw than it should be, considering the fact that nothing has really ever happened between us.

When I stand, I see Colton watching me with a curious expression, but I don’t stay to try to figure out what it means. I’m through trying to figure out whether or not there are hidden messages in his words or his actions.

I move to pass him, but his hand wraps around my bicep, stopping me cold, and when I turn to look at him, our faces are just inches apart.

“Why do I feel like you’re mad at me?” he asks, his voice low.

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