Page 59 of Just Friends

“Of course,” Wes says. “I don’t know why we didn’t think to invite him from the beginning.”

“I’m sure he’d love to,” I say, running my hands over my thighs to warm them against the blast of AC that just kicked on. “Are you sure there’s enough room?”

Wes and Lo exchange a look, as if mentally calculating and wordlessly communicating. Then Lo turns back to me, a smile playing on her lips. “Plenty. Please come.”

Nodding, I say, “I’ll ask Alex.”

Mykeysrattleinthe lock as I let myself into Alex’s apartment for movie night. After my meltdown to Lucy a few hours ago, she tried to convince me to hold out for more, but it only strengthened my decision.

“Honey, I’m home!” I yell into the vast abyss of Alex’s huge apartment, my arms laden down with bags of takeout.

Since the paper bags are tall enough to cover my face, I can only hear his footsteps. They’re echoing down the hall because there’s not a stitch of carpet in the ultramodern space, only thin, pure white rugs that Alex has to have professionally cleaned every three months because he’s clumsy.

When Alex is close enough that I can smell the starched linen scent of his cologne, the heavy load in my arms is lifted. Brown paper is replaced by dark eyes and a messy flop of wavy hair.

“Hey,” he says, one corner of his mouth curving.

That smile feels like warm liquid spreading through my stomach, making my body heat and my skin prickle. It’s disarming, my reaction, but it’s also like hot cocoa on a winter night, comforting and soothing and delicious.

“Hey,” I say back, and he gives me one more dazzling grin before spinning on his heel and heading back down the hall.

“How was your day?” he asks over his shoulder, leading us into the kitchen.

His apartment is basically one large living area, with two bedrooms and two bathrooms off the living room. The kitchen, dining area, and living room are all one space, tastefully separated by strategically placed furniture.

The lighting from the floor-to-ceiling windows covering the expanse of the wall is an artist’s dream, but Alex wastes it. Everything in here is minimalist and bland, although expensive and high end. I’ve been sneaking over trinkets and decor to add pops of color every time I come over. Some of it disappears, showing up back in my apartment a week later, but some stays, like the tiny butterfly painting I set on his stark white shelves a few months back and the little cactus I bought that one time we visited the plant nursery last spring.

“It was good,” I say, not mentioning my heart-to-heart with Lucy as I slip a colorful boho home decor book from my purse and onto his coffee table.

The paper bags rustle as he sets them down on the counter and starts unloading our tacos from the truck down the street. I wander into the kitchen, pulling glasses from the cabinet.

“Wes and Lo came into the coffee shop today,” I tell him.

Alex pulls the last of our dinner from the paper bags. “Oh yeah?”

“They’re pretty much finished with the lake house. They invited us and Cam and Ellie to come down in two weeks to check it out.”

“Really?” Alex asks, turning around to lean back against the island, his hands propped on the counter at his hips. His eyes roam my face. “You want to go?”

I shrug. “It sounds fun. We’d have to miss that date, though. And then I’m going to Fontana Ridge for three weeks. So we’d miss a whole month of dates,” I say, wondering if he can read the ambivalence in my voice.

Alex watches me for a long moment before saying, “I’m fine with it if you are.”

A breath of relief escapes me, and I don’t let myself examine what that means. “Yeah, I’m fine with it.”

Alex smiles, then. It’s the one I love—one side first and then the other. “A lake weekend sounds fun.”

“I thought so too,” I say, moving around him to get my food from the counter. Tacos in hand, I head for the couch. “What are we watching tonight?”

Alex’s footsteps echo behind me, and the couch shifts beneath his weight as he settles next to me, his shoulder firm against mine. “Plus One.”

It’sSaturday,andAlexhas chosen kayaking as our next date. Not what I would have chosen, but it at least gave me an excuse to shop for a new outfit. And I didn’t do it alone. I took Alex’s blind date with me.

Marie Smith. She has possibly the most generic name in the English language, but she’s spunky and vibrant and fun. And okay, maybe she’s not necessarilyAlex’stype, but after I met her at a concert a few months back, I’ve been meaning to reach out for a friend date because I feel like we would get along really well.

We had the best time scouring the thrift store last night in search of kayaking-appropriate gear. I’m sure either of us could have found something stuffed in the backs of our closets, but I ended up with the cutest little mustard yellow hiking shorts that I paired with a floral bikini top, a white linen button down, and a khaki bucket hat. It’s outdoorsy chic, and I ended up taking thirty-seven mirror selfies before Alex walked in on me, shaking his head at my antics.

“Maybe this isn’t such a terrible date idea,” I say as we turn into the gravel parking lot at the kayak rental location. The windows are down, letting in a steamy summer breeze, and my feet are kicked up on the dash.

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