Page 74 of Just Friends

“But our children could be double cousins.”

“That sounds like something out of a documentary about the deep south,” I say, and Lo snorts. I fix my gaze on her. “I can’t believe she draggedyouinto this too.”

Red creeps up Lo’s neck and into her cheeks, and Ellie yells, “It was her idea!”

I stare at both of them, wide-eyed. “I cannot believe you two.”

“We just want you to be happy,” Ellie says, her hand finding mine on the damp, sandy beach towel. “Alex makes you happy.”

I can’t help it. My gaze snags on him in the lake. Water drips over his skin that’s sure to sunburn again since he slathered sunscreen all over himself before I could even attempt to offer, missing major chunks. That’s probably for the best, with how things went with the aloe in my bathroom.

Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I turn back to Ellie and Lo, who are watching me with knowing glances. “Alex is my best friend. Of course he makes me happy.”

Even to my own ears, it rings hollow, but terror grips at me with sharp claws as I let myself consider the alternative.

Lo’s gaze softens. “I think friendship is the most important thing in a relationship. But I understand. It must be scary to consider anything else with him,” she says, her voice gentle. Out of the two of them, she would understand what I’m going through; she and Wes were friends for almost a decade before they got together.

“It is scary,” I say, and it feels like a confession to say it out loud, to admit that Ihaveconsidered it. That somehow, in the last few weeks, my best friend has transformed into something more, and I don’t know what to do about that.

Ellie squeezes my hand. “Alex would never hurt you.”

My pulse pounds so loudly I can hear it, a rhythmic beat in my ears that ratchets my anxiety up by the second. “You can’t know that.”

“He wouldn’t,” Ellie says, shaking her head, brows furrowing.

I pull my hand back, folding it so tightly with my other that my knuckles strain and pop. Even then, I’m still shaking, but I hope they don’t notice. That they can’t tell I’m about to fall apart.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” I tell them, surprised that my voice doesn’t betray me. “But I don’t want things to change between us. I’m happy with how things are.”

My eyes flick between the two of them, the early afternoon sun making them appear golden, wind rustling the ends of their hair. Lo’s bottom lip is trapped between her teeth, and Ellie’s fingers tap out a rhythm against the sand, but eventually, they both nod, and a frisson of tension releases, making my spine boneless.

“Thank you,” I tell them, and a relieved breath slips between my lips. I can feel the sun beating against my skin once more, the gritty sand on my legs, the cooling dampness of the towel beneath me.

Ellie sits up straighter, glancing around. “It’s quiet,” she says, and Lo’s eyes widen.

She barely has time to say “Oh, no,” before yells echo across the trees and the surface of the water. I spin to see Alex, Cam, and Wes running for us, and before I realize what’s happening, Alex’s arms are around me, his wet skin sliding against my own, and I’m being hoisted over his shoulders. His arm bands around my thighs, holding me in place as he sprints across the grass before it turns into wooden dock planks. I bounce against him with each step, my laugh catching in the breeze.

And then we’re airborne, time frozen for one instant before water swallows us whole. Alex’s hands leave me only for a moment before finding me under the water again, slipping around my waist before tugging me up with him. I feel rather than see when we break through the surface. I feel sun on my skin, Alex’s breath against my face, undiluted happiness bubbling through my veins.

When I finally peel my eyes open, Alex is the first thing I see. His mouth hitched higher on one side, his eyes sparking in the sunlight, looking gold and green and brown all at once. He looks the way I feel, like he’s a mirror of my soul, reflecting every emotion I have right back at me. If I could freeze this moment in time and keep usjust like this, I would. Because right now, things are too perfect to ever ruin. Too perfect to bleed and rot away and turn into something ugly. This moment with Alex is flawless, and I hate how scared I am for it to end.

Thecouchbedisgoing to be the death of me. Alex and I are staring at it, hands on hips, like we’re the disappointed parents of the angsty heroine in an eighties film. We just finished putting the sheets on it, covering the whole thing with a downy white comforter, and stuffing our pillowcases with expensive feather pillows that are nicer than my own pillow at home.

All that’s left is to actuallyget in the bed. Despite the heat, I shiver in my button-up mustard yellow muslin pajama set. I normally sleep in underwear and a tank, but I brought this set in case I ended up going over to Wren or Stevie’s when I visit home, and thank God.

“Cold?” Alex asks, his eyes confused as he looks down at me. Having his full attention on me is almost too much, making my nerve endings zing to life like I’ve touched a live wire. I feel tense and on edge—a way I never would have felt about sharing a bed with him in the past. As much as I hate to admit it, things between ushavechanged, and I’m running in circles trying to keep up with stuffing him back into the neat friend box he’s supposed to be in.

“No.” It’s not a lie. I’m onfire, and nowhere near cold.

He holds my gaze for a long moment before his eyes dip down, tracing the contours of my face and lingering on my mouth for a heartbeat too long. I feel that stare like there’s an invisible string tied to my belly button, tugging hard.

“Want to go outside for a bit? It’s nice tonight.” His voice is sandpaper scraping against my skin.

It absolutely isn’t nice tonight. The pleasant day has turned into a very muggy night. The heat hangs in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife and heavy with the promise of incoming rain. But even the soupy air outside has to be cooler than the scorching heat between us while the tiny couch bed sits like an elephant in the middle of the room.

“Yes,” I say, and my own voice comes out squeaky, but if Alex notices, he doesn’t say anything. He silently turns and heads out the back door, all long lines and fluid grace.

It’s dark as we head for the dock with only the moonlight to guide us, and memories of the day crash over me like waves. We swam in the lake until our skin was pruned, snacking on the charcuterie board Wes and Lo prepared until we needed real food, which was a joint effort between the six of us. We danced in the crowded kitchen, Ellie and me on the countertops, Cam snapping pictures of us on the film camera he’s had since high school.

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