Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.
TheCheatSheet?2021bySarahAdams
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproducedorusedinanymannerwithoutwrittenpermissionofthecopyrightownerexceptfortheuseofquotationsinabookreview.
FirsteditionAugust2021
CoverdesignbySarahAdams
EditingbyC.Marie
Proofreading:JuliaGriffis–TheRomanceBibliophile
WWW.AuthorSarahAdams.comContents
SensitivityNote
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Chapter30
Chapter31
Chapter32
Epilogue
DearReader
AlsobySarahAdams
AbouttheAuthorSensitivityNote
*DONOTREADIFYOUWISHTOAVOIDSPOILERS*
Readerspleasebeadvisedthaton-pagepanicattacksareportrayed.Assomeonewhoexperiencesanxietyandpanicattacks,IhopethatIhavegiventhissubjectmatterthecareandsensitivityitdeserves.Tomybestfriend,Chris.Thanksforalwaystakingjokeswaytoofarwithme,andgivingmesomuchmaterialformybooks.
Also,you’resuperhot.Sothat’sawesometoo.CheatSheet:
Apieceofpaperthequarterbackhasonhiswristbandtoeasilyreferenceplaystobecalled.
Balancingtwocupsofburninghotcoffeeandaboxofdonutswhiletryingtounlockafrontdoorisnoteasy.ButbecauseI’mthebestfriendapersoncouldeveraskfor—whichIwillremindNathanofassoonasImakeitinsidehisapartment—Imanageit.
IhisswhenIturnthelockandasplashofcoffeedartsoutontomywristthroughthelittleholeinthelid.Ihavefairskin,sothere’saonemillionpercentchanceit’sgoingtoleaveanangryredmark.
ThemomentIstepinsideNathan’sapartment(whichreallyshouldnotbecalledanapartmentbecauseit’sthesizeoffivelargeapartmentssmooshedtogether),thefamiliarcleanandcrispscentofhimknocksintomelikeabus.IknowthissmellsowellIthinkIcouldfollowitlikeabloodhoundifheevergoesmissing.
Usingtheheelofmytennisshoe,IslamthefrontdoorshutwithenoughgustotowarnNathanthatI’monthepremises.ATTENTIONALLSEXYQUARTERBACKS!COVERYOURGOODS!AGREEDY-EYEDWOMANISINTHEHOUSE!
Ahigh-pitchedyelpsoundsfromthekitchen,andIimmediatelyfrown.Peekingaroundthecorner,Ifindawomanwearingalightpinkshorts-and-camisolesleepsetpressedintothefarcornerofthewraparoundwhitemarblekitchencounter.She’sclutchingabutcherknifetoherchest.We’reseparatedbyamassiveisland,butfromthewayhereyesarebuggingout,you’dthinkIwasholdingmatchingcutleryagainstthejugularveininherneck.
“DON’TCOMEANYCLOSER!”shescreeches,andIimmediatelyrollmyeyes,becausewhydoesshehavetobesoscreechy?Shesoundslikeaclothespinispinchingthebridgeofhernoseandshehasrecentlyinhaledawholeballoonfullofhelium
IwouldraisemyhandsintheairsoIdon’tgetknifedtodeath,butI’msortofloadeddownwithbreakfastgoods—goodsformeandNathan,notMissScreechy.Thisisn’tmyfirstrodeowithoneofNathan’sgirlfriends,though,soIdowhatIalwaysdoandsmileatKelsey.Andyeah,Iknowhername,becauseeventhoughshepretendsnottoremembermeeverytimewemeet,she’sbeendatingNathanforafewmonthsnowandwehavemetseveraltimes.Ihavenoideahowhespendstimewiththiswoman.SheseemssooppositeofthetypeofpersonIwouldpickforhim—theyalldo.
“Kelsey!It’sme,Bree.Remember?”Nathan’sbestfriendsincehighschool.Thewomanwhowasherebeforeyouandwillbeherewellafteryou.REMEMBERME?!
Shereleasesabigpuffofairandletshershoulderssaginrelief.“Ohmygosh,Bree!Youscaredmetodeath.Ithoughtyouweresomestalkergirlwhobrokeinsomehow.”Shesetstheknifedown,raisesoneofherperfectlymanicuredeyebrows,andmumblesnotsoquietly,“Butthenagain…yousortofare.”
Inarrowmyeyesatherwithatightsmile.“Nathanupyet?”
It’s6:30AMonaTuesdaymorning,soIknowforafacthe’salreadyawake.AnygirlfriendofNathan’sknowsifshewantstoseehimatallthatday,shehastowakeupjustasearlyashedoes.WhichiswhySatin-PJ-Kelseyisstandinginthekitchenlookingpissedoff.NooneappreciatesthemorningquitelikeNathan.Well,exceptforme—Iloveittoo.Butwe’resortofweirdos.
Sheturnsherheadslowlytome,hateburninginherdelicatebabyblues.“Yes.He’sintheshower.”
Beforeourrun?
Kelseylooksatmelikeitgrievesherdeeplytohavetoexpound.“IaccidentallybumpedintohimwhenIcameintothekitchenafewminutesago.Hehadhisproteinshakeinhishandand…”Shemakesanannoyedgesture,lettingitfinishthestoryforher:IdumpedNathan’sshakedownthefrontofhim.Ithinkit’skillinghertoadmitshedidsomethinghuman,soItakepityonherandturnawaytosetthedonutboxdownontheridiculouslylargecenterisland.
Nathan’skitchenisfantastic.It’sdesignedinmonochrometonesofcream,black,andbrass,andanexpansivewindowwalloverlookstheocean.It’smyfavoriteplaceintheworldtocook,andexactlytheoppositeofmydumpylittlegarbagebinfiveblocksdowntheroad.Butthatdumpylittlegarbagebinisaffordableandclosetomyballetstudio,soallinall,Ican’tcomplain.
“I’msureitwasn’tabigdeal.Nathannevergetsupsetaboutthingslikethat,”IsaytoKelsey,wavingmywhiteflagonelasttime.
Shetakesouthersamuraiswordandslicesittoshreds.“Ialreadyknowthat.”
Alrightythen.
ItakemyfirstsipofcoffeeandletitwarmmeunderKelsey’sfrigidstare.NothingtodobutwaitforNathantosurfacesowecangetgoingwithourTuesdaytradition.Itdatesallthewaybacktoourjunioryearofhighschool.Iwasasortofself-designatedlonerinthosedays,notbecauseIdidn’tlovepeopleorsocializing,butbecauseIlivedandbreathedballet.Mymomusedtoencouragemetoskipdanceoccasionallytogotoapartyandbewithmyfriends.“Thesedaysofgettingtojustbeakidandhavefunwon’tlastforever.Balletisn’teverything.It’simportanttobuildalifeoutsideofittoo,”shesaidtomeonmorethanoneoccasion.Andofcourse,likemostdutifulteenagers…Ididn’tlisten.
Betweendancingandmyafterschooljobworkinginarestaurant,Ididn’treallyhavefriends.Butthenhehappened.Iwantedtoincreasemyendurance,soIstartedrunningourschool’strackbeforeschool,andtheonlydayIcouldmakethishappenschedule-wisewasonTuesdays.Ishoweduponemorningandwasshockedtoseeanotherstudentalreadyrunning.Notjustanystudent,butthecaptainofthefootballteam.Mr.HottieMcHotterson.(Nathandidn’thaveanawkwardphase.Helookedlikeatwenty-five-year-oldatsixteen.Sounfair.)
Jocksweresupposedtoberude.Chauvinistic.Fullofthemselves.NotNathan.Hesawmeinmyscuffed-upsneakers,curlyhairpiledonmyheadinthegrossestbunanyonehaseverseen,andhestoppedrunning.HecameoverandintroducedhimselfwithhishugetrademarksmileandaskedifIwantedtorunwithhim.Wetalkedtheentiretime,instantbestfriendswithsomuchincommon,despiteourdifferentupbringings.
Yeah,youguessedit—hecomesfromawealthyfamily.HisdadistheCEOofatechcompanyandhasnevershownmuchinterestinNathanunlesshe’sshowinghimoffonthegolfcourseinfrontofhisworkfriends,andhismomprettymuchjusthungaroundandbadgeredhimtomakeittothetopandbringherintothelimelightwithhim.Theyalwayshad
Soanyway,thusbeganourTuesdaytradition.AndtheexactmomentIfellforNathan?Icanpinpointitdowntothesecond.
Wewereonourfinallapofthatveryfirstruntogetherwhenhishandcaughtmine.Hetuggedmetoastopthenbentdowninfrontofmeandtiedmyshoe.Hecouldhavejusttoldmeitwasuntied,butno—Nathan’snotlikethat.Itdoesn’tmatterwhoyouareorhowfamousheis;ifyourshoeisuntied,he’sgoingtotieitforyou.I’venevermetanyoneelselikethat.Iwassogoneforhimfromdayone.
Wewerebothsodeterminedtoachievesuccess,despitehowyoungwewere.Healwaysknewhe’dendupintheNFL,andIknewIwasheadedtoJuilliardandthentodanceinacompanyafter.Oneofthosedreamsbecameareality,andonedidnot.Unfortunately,welosttouchduringcollege(fine,Imadeuslosetouch),butIserendipitouslymovedtoLAaftergraduatingwhenafriendtoldmeaboutanotherfriendwhowaslookingtohireanassistantinstructoratherdancestudiojustasNathansignedwiththeLASharksandmovedtotownaswell.
Webumpedintoeachotheratacoffeeshop,heaskedifIwantedtogoforajogonTuesdayforoldtime’ssake,andtherestwashistory.Ourfriendshippickedrightbackupasifnotimehadpassedatall,andunfortunately,myheartstillpinedforhimthesameasithadbackthentoo.
Thefunnythingis,Nathanwasneverprojectedtoreachtheheightsinhiscareerthathehas.Nope,NathanDonelsonwasdraftedintheseventhround,andheeffectivelywarmedthebenchasabackupquarterbackfortwowholeyears.Henevergotdiscouraged,though.Heworkedharder,trainedharder,andmadesurehewasreadyifhistimecametotakethefield,becausethat’showNathanapproacheseverythinginlife:withnothingbut100%effort.
Andthenoneday,itallpaidoffforhim.
Thepreviousstartingquarterback,Daren,brokehisfemuronthefieldduringagameandtheyhadtoputNathanin.Icanstillclosemyeyesandseethatmoment.AstretchercarryingDarenoffthefield.TheoffensivecoachrunningdownthesidelinestoNathan.Nathanshootingupoffthebenchandlisteningtothecoach’sinstructions.Andthen…justbeforeheputhishelmetonandenteredthegameforwhatwouldgodowninhistoryashiscareer-makingstart,Nathanlookedupinthestandsforme.(Hedidn’thaveaprivateboxatthatpoint.)Istoodup,wemadeeyecontact,andNathanlookedlikehewasgoingtohurl.IdidtheonethingIknewwouldhelphimrelax:contortedmyfacelikeading-dongandstuckmytongueoutthesideofmymouth.
Hisfaceexplodedinasmile,andthenheledtheteamtoplaythebestgameoftheirseason.NathansteppedinasthestartingquarterbackfortherestoftheyearandcarriedtheSharkstotheSuperBowl,wheretheytookhomeawin.Thosemonthswereawhirlwindforhim.Actually,theywereforbothofus,becausethatwastheyearIwentfromjustbeinganinstructoratadancestudiotoowningthestudio.
Today,I’mhereforarunwithNathan,andsincehedidn’tplayhisbestlastnight,Iknowwe’llberunningextrahardtoday.Histeamstillwonthegame(andtheyareofficiallyintheplayoffs,YAY),buthethrewtwointerceptions,andsinceNathanisaperfectionistwhenitcomesto…well,anything,Iknowhe’llbestompingaroundherelikeabearwithanemptyhoneypot.
Kelsey’sshrillvoiceyanksmeoutofmynostalgia.“Yeah,sodon’ttakethisthewrongway…butwhatareyoudoinghere?”ByDon’ttakethisthewrongway,shemeans,Don’ttakethisasanythingnicebecauseIfullyintendforittocomeoutextrawitchy.Iwishshe’dactlikethiswhenNathanisaround.Whenhe’swatching,she’ssweetaspie.
Igivehermymostsunnysmile,refusingtoletherstealmyjoysoearlyinthemorning.“WhatdoesitlooklikeI’mdoinghere?”
“Beingacreepystalkerwho’ssecretlyinlovewithmyboyfriendandbreaksintohisapartmenttobringhimbreakfast.”
See,here’stheproblem.Shesaysthewordsmyboyfriendliketheyshouldbetrumpcards.LikeshejusttossedthemonthetableandI’msupposedtogaspandclosemyhandsovermymouthinshock.Myheavens!Shewon!
Littledoessheknow,hercardistheequivalentofalonesomefiveofclubs.GirlfriendscomeandgoinNathan’slifelikefaddiets.Me,ontheotherhand—Iwasherelongbeforetwo-facedKelsey,andI’llbeherelongafter,becauseIamNathan’sbestfriend.I’mtheonewho’sbeenthroughitallwithhim,andhe’sbeenthroughitallwithme:highschoolganglyphase(me,nothim),collegefootballsigningday,thecaraccidentthatchangedmyentirefuture,everystomachbugofthepastsixyears,thedayItookownershipofthedancestudio,andwhentheconfettiwasfallingonhimafterhisteamwontheSuperBowl.
ButMOSTimportantly,I’mtheonlypersonintheentireworldwhoknowshowhegotthetwo-inchscarrightbelowhisnavel.I’llgiveyouahint:it’sembarrassingandhastodowithanat-homewaxingkit.I’llgiveyouanotherhint:Idaredhimtodoit.
“Yep!”Isaywithanoverlybrightsmile.“Soundsaboutright.Stalkerwho’ssecretlyinlovewithNathan.That’stotallyme.”
Hereyeswidenbecauseshethoughtshe’dreallyzingmewiththatone.Can’tburnmewiththetruth,Kels!Well,exceptforthestalkerpart.
IturnawayfromKelseyandwaitforNathan.TherewasatimeinmylifewhenItriedtobefriendNathan’sgirlfriends.Notanymore.Noneofthemlikeme.NomatterwhatIdotoearntheiraffection,theyarepredisposedtohateme.AndIgetit,Ireallydo.TheythinkI’mamajorthreat.Butthat’swherethestorygetssad.
I’mnot.
TheyallgettohaveNathaninawayIneverwill.
“Youknow,”shesays,tryingtograbmyattentionagain,“youcouldjustgoaheadandsaveyourselftheembarrassmentandleave.BecausewhenNathancomesouthere,Ifullyintendtoaskhimtomakeyouleave.I’vebeenpatientsofar,butthewayyouacttowardhimissuperweird.Youhangaroundhimlikeaclingypieceoftoiletpaper.”
ItrynottolooktoopatronizingwhenIgiveheranover-the-topOkayhoneyturned-downsmileandnod.Becausehere’swhatIforgottomentionbefore:I’mnotathreattothesewomen…untiltheymakehimchoose.Then,I’mmorethreateningthanaglitterbomb.ImightnotgettosleepinNathan’sbed,butIdohavehisloyalty—andtoNathan,there’snothingmoreimportantthanthat.
Kelseyscoffsandfoldsherarms.We’redeeplyengagedinabattleoffrighteningexpressionswhenNathan’svoicerumblesfromtheroombehindme.
“Mmmm,doIsmellcoffeeanddonuts?ThatmustmeanBreeCheeseishere.”
IflashKelseyanot-so-subtlegrin.Awinner’sgrin.Nathanturnsthecornerwearingapairofblackathleticshortsandnoshirt.Hischiseled,tanchestthatcouldonlybelongtoaprofessionalathleteisonfulldisplay,andthatAdonisVofhisiswinkingandmakingeveryoneblush.Hishairisdampandglistening,andthetopsofhisshouldersareslightlypinkfromthehotwater.Thisishisfreshfromtheshowerlook,andnomatterhowmanytimesI’veseenit,itneverceasestomakemeswallowmytongue.
Hehasasmalltowelinhishand,andit’sgettingrubbedalloverhisincrediblechocolatebrownhair.Thatluckytowelisgigglingwithglee.Nathan’shairissowavyanddelectablethathehasafive-million-dollarendorsementdealwithamen’sluxuryhaircarebrandbecauseofit.Afterthatfirstcommercialwentlive—Nathansteppingoutofthelockerroomshowerwithatowelwrappedaroundhiswaist,beadsofmoistureclingingtohistautmuscles,andholdingthatbottleofshampoo—womeneverywhereflockedtothestoretograbthesamebrandinhopesofitmagicallyturningtheirmanintoNathan.Attheveryleast,theywantedtheirmantosmelllikeNathan.Buthere’sanothersecretthatonlyIknow—Nathan’shairdoesn’tsmelllikethatshampoobecauseheprefersacheapgenericbrandinagreenbottlethathe’sbeenusingsincehewaseighteen.
“Thoughtyoumightneedthis,”Isay,handingNathanasteamingcupofcoffeefromourfavoritelittleshopafewblocksaway.Iopenthedonutboxlikeatreasurechest.Thedonutsshineinthelight.Bing!
Nathangroansandcockshisheadtotheside,asoftsmileinthecornerofhismouthashetossesthetowelontothecountertop.“Ithoughtitwasmydaytogetthecoffeeanddonuts.”Heplucksamapleglazedoutoftheboxandleansdowntogivemeaquickpeckonthecheeklikehealwaysdoes.Completelyplatonic.Brotherly
“Yeah,butIwokeupsuperearlythismorningwithacharleyhorseinmycalfandcouldn’tgetbacktosleep,soIwentaheadandgotit.”Ihopehebuysmyfib.
Truthis,Icouldn’tsleepbecauseIbrokeupwithmyboyfriendlastnightandI’mdreadingtellingNathan.Why?BecauseIknowhe’llprodmewithquestionsuntilhefindsoutthetruthbehindthebreakup.Andhecan’tknowthatIbrokeupwithMartinbecauseMartinisn’tNathan.
MaybeifI’dsquinted,pluggedmyears,andwobbledmyheadsidetoside,Imighthavebeenabletotrickmyselfintothinkingitwashim.Butwhowantstolivelikethat?It’snotfairtomeorMartin.Sonow,thegoalistofindamanwhoattractsmemorethanNathandoes.Arealbug-zapperofamaniswhatI’mlookingfor.ThistimeIwon’tsettleforanythinglessthancompleteandtotalsmittenness
Nathanliftsoneofhisthickbrows.“Probablyshould’veeatenabananabeforebedlastnight.”
Irollmyeyes.“Yeah,yeah,butmyanswerisstillthesame:Ihatebananas.They’resosquishy,andtheytastelike…bananas.”
“Doesn’tmatter.Clearlyyourpotassiumis—”
Kelseyclearsherthroat,andthat’swhenwenoticehermassivescowl.“Excuseme.Isitnotoddtoyouthatsheishereat6:30inthemorningwithcoffeeanddonutswhenyouhaveyourgirlfriendover?”
AgainwiththatGword.Andokay,yeah,maybeIshouldhaverealizedKelseywouldbeoverthismorning,andIshouldhavewaitedforNathantomeetmewiththecoffeeanddonuts.That’smybad.SometimesIforgetNathanandIdon’thaveaparticularlynormalfriendship.
Nathanclearshisthroatlightly.“Sorry,Kelsey,IjustthoughtyourememberedTuesdaysarealwaysmyrunningdayswithBree.”
“Yup.”Sherollshereyesandpopsthepsound.“HowcouldIforgetwhenithappensEVERYSINGLETUESDAY.Literallyyouronlymorningoffduringtheseason.”
ThisfeelslikeaprivateconversationIshouldn’tbeherefor.Actually,Ikindaagreewithher.It’sweirdthatNathanandIaresuchgoodfriends.I’vetriedtotakemyselfoutoftheequationmanytimesbeforesohecouldspendmoretimewithhisgirlfriend,butheneverallowsit.IfIwerehisgirlfriend,though,Iwouldbeveryterritorialwithfreetime.
TuesdaysintheNFLareoffdaysfornearlyeveryteam.Buthere’sthesecretsaucethatnotallplayersrealize:Thebestonesstillgointothetrainingfacilityontheiroffdays.Theyusetheextratimetofocusontheirweaknesses,meetwithphysicaltherapists,reviewoldgametapes—anythingthatwillhelpthemexcelabovetherest.NathanneversitsTuesdaysout,buthedoesgoinalittlelatersowecanhaveourruntogetherinthemorning.
“Can’tyoutake,like,thisonemorningoff?”Sheisoverexaggeratingeverysingleword,andIdon’tknowhowhehandleshervoice.
Nathan’sbrowsdip,andhefoldshisarms.IwanttoslowlyscootoutoftheroombecauseIknowwhat’sgoingtohappennext.
“Notreally.IneedagoodruntoshakeoffthatbadgamebeforeIgotraintoday.”
Kelsey’smouthfallsopen.“Badgame?Babe,youwon!Whatareyoueventalkingabout?”
Inunison,NathanandIbothsay,“Twointerceptions.”
Yikes.Kelseydidnotlikethat.Hereyesnarrowdownintoscarylittleslits.“Cute.SeewhatImean?Thisisnotanormalfriendship.Andyouknowwhat?I’mdonecompetingwithwhateverthisis.It’stimeyou”—Don’tsayit,Kelsey!—“choose.It’seithermeorher.”
Sheblinksseveraltimes,andIturnaroundtogiveKelseysomeprivacyinthismomentofloss.Dearlybeloved,wearegatheredheretodaytomourntheinsignificant,minusculerelationshipthatwasNathanandKelsey.
“Kelsey…ItoldyouupfrontIwasn’tlookingforanythingseriousrightnow,andyousaidyouweregoodwiththat…”Nathanpauses.
Gosh,Ihatethisforhim,Ireallydo.Itkillshimtodeliverbreakuplines,becausehe’sagiant,rock-solidteddybear.IwishIcoulddoitforhim,butIhaveafeelingI’djustgetacastironskillettotheface.
Kelseysqueals.“Areyoukiddingmerightnow?!Areyouchoosingheroverme?”
Okay,Idon’tloveherinflection.
“Yes,”hesaysmatter-of-factly.
Flamesburstfromthetopofherhead.“Youcannothonestlytellmeyou’renotsleepingwithherthen!”
“He’snot,believeme,”Isay.ThenIworryitcameoutsoundingalittletoobitter,soIadd,“Really.Justfriends.We’dbehorribletogether.We’remorelikebrotherandsister.”Bleh,thattastedbadonmytongue.
Hischintiltsdowntome,andittakeshimasecond,buthesmiles.“Yeah.We’venever…”HisvoicetrailsoffandIseehimswallowbecauseit’sdifficultforhimtoevenpictureustogetherinthatway.“Beenfriendswithbenefits.”
Never.Notonce.Nada.Nothing.Zilch.ApeckonthecheekistheclosestI’vegottentoanyactionwithNathan,whichiswhyIknowhe’snotintome.Amanwhoisheadoverheelsforawomandoesn’tkeephishandstohimselfonmovienightforsixyearsstraight.AndNathanandIalwayskeepourhandstoourselves.
Sonow,IworkashardasIcantoprovetohimthatI’mSOGOODwiththisfriendthing.Because,honestly,Iam.WouldIlovetomarryhimandhavehisgiantmuscularbabies?Yes.Inaheartbeat.Butit’snotinthecardsforus,andI’llbedamnedifIruinourfriendshipbymakingthingsweirdwhenhefindsoutI’mcrushingonhimwhilehealreadyhasthenumberofthenextmodelheplanstodatehalfwaydialedintohisphone.
ThebiggerproblemisthatIknowifItoldhimhowIreallyfeel,he’dhumormebecausehetrulydoescareaboutmeasafriend.He’dgiveittheoldcollegetry,mightdatemeforafewweeks,butthenhe’dmoveontosomeoneheactuallyfeltchemistrywith,andI’dbeoutabestfriend.Notworthit.
Yeah—I’mgoodlikethis.
I’lleventuallyfindsomeonewhoisjustasgreatasNathan.
(Probablynot.)
“Right.Well,then…enjoyyourweirdfriendship.BecauseI’mleaving.”Kelseypausesaminute,butIdon’thearfootsteps.Ithinkshe’swaitingforhimtostopher.Thisisawkwardforeveryone.“Ireallyam.Rightnow.I’mwalkingoutthatdoorforgood,Nathan.”
Noooo,don’tgo!Ithinkwithzerosincerity.
Andthenshestormsoff.Nathanfollowshertowardthedoor,sayingsomethingabouthowshe’sstillinherpajamasandshouldn’tshegogetherstufffirst?Shetellshimtohaveitsentoverbecauseshecan’tbeartolookathimforanothersecond.Thedramaishigh.
Ihearthedoorslam,andIkicktheair.Goodriddance!
Ialsowhipoutmyphoneandtextmybigsister.
Me:Anotheronebitesthedust.Kelsey’souttahere!
Lily:ShelastedlongerthanIexpected.
Me:Akatoolong.
Lily:Benice!Hemightbesad.
Me:UmmmI’malwaysnice,thankyouverymuch.
Lily:Ibetyouhaveacreepysmileonyourface.
WhenNathanfinallycomesbackintothekitchen,Itrainmyfaceintoaheartfeltfrown,provingLilywrong.“I’msorry,friend.”
“No,you’renot,”hesayswithachuckleasheleanshisbarehipagainstthecounter.
Ireallywishhe’dwearmoreclothes.It’spainfulhavingtolookatsomethingsobeautifulandnevertouchit.Nathan’sskinislikehotgoldensandfromanexoticbeach,wrappedaroundaripplingformthatmakesyoufeelinstantlydehydrated.HisperfectlycraftedphysiqueisthereasonhewasnamedSexiestManAliveandmadethecoverofProSportsMagazine’sformissuewheretheyhighlightandcelebrateallthedifferentphysicalformsofproathletesandwhattheyhavetodotokeeptheirbodiesintip-topshape.It’saclassyspreadwithwell-placedhandsandthighstocoverthemostimportantbits.Butyeah,Nathanwascompletelynakedinthatmagazine.AndalthoughIownfivecopies,I’veneverbeenabletobringmyselftolookinside(thecoveronlyshowshimfromthewaistup).Therearesomeboundariesyoujustcan’tcrossasfriends.Nakednessisoneofthem.
Ipickupadonutandshoveitinmymouthtokeepfromsmiling.“No!Ireallymeanit.Kelseyseemed…fun.”
“Youstuckyourtongueoutatherintheboxlastnight.”
“Geez!DotheAvengersknowaboutyouandyoursuperhumaneyesight?”
Hesmilesandreachesouttotugonmymessyponytail.“WasKelseyajerktoyouwhenIwasn’taround?Behonest.”
Nathanhasblackeyes.Notchocolate,notbrown.Jetfreakingblack.Andwhentheyzeroinonmelikethis,itfeelslikeI’msuffocating.LikeIcouldn’tgetawayfromtheirintensityevenifItried.
Ishrugashoulderandtakeadrinkofmycoffee.“Shewasn’tthebest,butit’snobigdeal.”
“What’dshesay?”
“Doesn’tmatter.”
Heinchescloser.“Bree.”
“Nathan.See,Icandoittoo.”
He’squiet…thoughtful,amerefiveinchesbetweenourchests.“I’msorryifshemadeyoufeelbad.Ididn’trealizeshewaslikethattowardyouorIwouldhavebrokenupwithheralongtimeago.”
Acornerofmyheartaches.Ifhecaresaboutmebeinginhislifesomuch,whyisn’theattractedtome?No.Uh-uh.Notgoingthere.Irefusetobethatgirl.We’refriendsandI’mhappywiththat.Gratefulforit.Andmaybeoneday,lifewilltossmeamanwholovesmebackasmuchasIlovehim.Eitherway,I’mgoodrightnow.
“Well,Ididn’texactlyhelpthings.Iprobablyshouldn’thavecomeoverherethisearlyandletmyselfin.”Itakeabigbiteofmychocolatedonut.“Ishouldimplementbetterboundaries.”
“Probably,”hesays,soundinggravelyserious.Butwhenmyeyesjumpuptohis,Nathanisgrinning—rightdimplepoppingandall.
Iplayfullyshovehisarm.“What!Ifthat’sthecase,maybeIshouldtakeawayyourkeytomyapartment.Implementsomeboundariesthere.”
Hetakesthelastbiteofhisdonut,grinstillinplace.“Goodluck.I’mnevergivingitback.”Hisarmbrushesagainstmineashepassesbyme,andIwonderifitwouldbeabreachoftheseboundariesifIplasteredmyselftohisbodylikeabarnacle.
IthinkIneedthisrunmorethanhedoes,andforcompletelydifferentreasons.Sweatingandwornoutfromourrun,BreeandIdumpourselvesontothefloorinfrontofmygiantwhitecouch.Tomyleftisafloor-to-ceilingthree-million-dollarviewoftheocean,buttomyrightistheviewIwouldgivemysoultoseeeverydayfortherestofmylife.Obviously,Breedoesn’tknowIfeelthiswayabouther.
Iknockthebackofmyknuckleagainstherknee,rightbesidethejaggedscarthatchangedthecourseofherentirelife.“Whatareyoudoinglater?YouwanttocomemeetmeforlunchatCalFi?”
CalFiismyteam’sstadium.Ithasarecentlyaddedtrainingfacilitywherewepracticeandworkoutduringtheweek,completewithacafeteriacateredbysomeofthebestchefsinthebusiness.AndI,incaseyouarewondering,amanovereagerpuppy,beggingforBreetoplaywithme—toalwaysplaywithme.
Sherollsherheadsohersoftbrowneyeslockwithmine.Breeisallhoney-brown,long,wildlycurlyhairandawide,gorgeousmouthwithdimplesthesizeofmythumboneitherside.ShehasaJuliaRobertssmile—onesouniqueandstunningthatonceyou’veseenit,noothersmileevencomesclose.Withourheadslaidbackagainstthecouch,ourforeheadsalmosttouch.Iwanttoleaninanextrainch.Twoinches.Iwanttofeelherlips.
“Ican’t.Ihaveatoddlercreativemovementclassat11:00today.”
Ifrown.“YouneverteachonTuesdaymornings.”
Sheshrugs.“Yeah,well,Ihadtoaddanotherclassinthemorningstwiceaweektocoverthestudio’srent.Mylandlordcontactedmelastmonthandsaidpropertytaxeswentupagainsohehadtoraisemyrentbyacouplehundredbucks.”
Breetriestostand,butIhooktheT-backstrapofhertanktopandtugherbackdownbesideme.Itwasborderlineoverlyflirtatious,andIinstantlyknowitwasabadmovewhenshelooksatmewithwideeyes.Iquicklycontinuetheconversationtocovermytracks.“You’realreadyteachingtoomanyclassesaweek.”
Breeemploysoneotherinstructoratherstudiowhoteachestapandjazz,butreally,sheneedstoaddanothertohelpwiththeload.Herstudiorunsinmoreofanon-profitcapacity,butheroverheaddoesn’treflectitbecauseeverystudiospaceinLAisenormouslyexpensive.It’sunfairbecausethere’salargepopulationofpeopleinthiscitywhoarelowincomeandunder-resourcedwhoseneedsareoverlooked.Bree’sdesirehasalwaysbeentoprovideaplaceforkidswhootherwisewouldn’tbeabletoreceivedanceinstruction,allowingthemtoattendherstudioatminimalcosttotheirfamily.
Problemis,thetuitionistoolowforhercurrentbusinessmodel.Sheknowsthisbutfeelsstuck,andIhatethatherchosensolutiontotheproblemistoteachmoreclassesandtrademoreofherselftocoverthedeficitinsteadofacceptingmymoney.
“Iteachthenormalamountofclassesfortheaverageinstructor,”shesayswithaclippedwarningtone.Bree’swarningtone,however,soundsasthreateningasacartoonbabybunny.Hereyesarebigandsparklyandmakemelovehermore.
Isoftenmyownvoice,preparingtogotoaplaceIknowistouchy.“Iknowyoucanhandleit,andIknowyou’reabsolutelytoughasnails,butasyourfriend,Ihatehavingtowatchyouworkthroughsomuchpaininyourknee.Andyes,IknowyourpainisflaringupbecauseIsawyoufavoringyourrightlegduringourjogtoday.”Reflexively,Iholdupmyhands.“Don’tpinchme,please.I’monlytryingtomakesureyoutakecareofyourselfwhileyou’reouttheretakingcareofeveryoneelse.”
Hereyesdartaway.“I’mfine.”
“Areyou?You’dtellmeifyouweren’tfine?”
Shenarrowshereyes.“You’rebeingoverlydramaticaboutthis,Nathan.”
Shesaysmynameinawaythat’smeanttocausemepainbutinsteadjustmakesmewanttosmile.BreeisoneofthestrongesthumanbeingsIknow,butshe’salsosomehowthesoftest.Shecanneverfullybringherselftosnapatmeoranyoneelseinherlife.
“MykneeisnotgoingtofalloffifIuseittoomuch,andIcanpushthroughalittlepain.YouknowIdon’tcontrolmyrent,soifIwanttobeabletokeepmytuitionlowforthekids,IhavetoaddanextraclassuntilIcanfindadifferentsolution.Endofstory.And—AH!”Sheholdsupherfingertopressagainstmylipswhensheseesmeabouttoargue.“Iwon’ttakemoneyfromyou.We’vebeenoverthisathousandtimes,andIneedtodothisonmyown.”
Myshoulderssink.Theonlyconsolationforcontinuouslylosingthisargumentisthefactthatherskinispressedagainstmymouthrightnow.I’llstaysilentforeverifshewillpromisetonevermove.Andwithherfingerpinnedovermylipslikethis,Idon’thavetofeelguiltyaboutnottellingherI’vebeensecretlypayingpartofherstudio’srentforyears.(Nottrue—Istillfeelguiltyaboutgoingbehindherback.)
Bree’slandlordraisedtherentonheroncebeforewhenshefirsttookoverthestudiofromtheoldowner.Shecriedonmycouchthatnightbecauseshewouldn’tbeabletoafforditanymore(muchlikewhat’shappeningagain)andthoughtshewasgoingtohavetofindacheaperlocationoutsideofthecity,whichwouldcompletelynegateherpurposeofprovidingadancestudioforthekidsinthecity.
Let’sjustsayherlandlordhadamagicalchangeofheartandcalledherthenextdaytosayhe’dmovedthingsaroundanddidn’tneedtoraisetherentafterall.WecanalsosafelysaythatifBreeeverfindsoutI’vebeenpayingafewhundreddollarstowardherrenteachmonth,Iwillberelievedofmyfavoritedanglyparts.Iprobablyshouldn’thavedoneit,butIcouldn’tbeartowatchherloseherdreamlikethat.Notagain.
BreewasacceptedtothedanceprogramatTheJuilliardSchooljustbeforehighschoolgraduation,andI’vestillneverseenapersonmoreexcitedaboutanythingintheirlife.Iwasthefirstpersonshetold.Ipickedherupandspunheraroundaswebothlaughed—internallyalittlescaredaboutwhatourseparatingliveswouldmeanforourfriendship.ShewouldbemovingtoNewYork,andIwouldbeofftoUTonafootballscholarship.Iwasn’tabouttoleavetownwithouttellingBreehowIfeltabouther,though,andhopefullymakingthingsofficialbetweenus.We’donlyeverbeenfriends,butIwasoveritandreadytobemore.
Andthenithappened.
ShegotT-bonedbyaguyrunningastoplightonedayafterschool.Thankfully,thecrashdidnottakeherlife,butitdidtakeawayBree’sfutureasaprofessionalballerina.Herkneewasshattered,andI’llneverforgetherwordsoverthephonewhenshecalledfromthehospitalsobbing.“It’salloverforme,Nathan.Iwon’tbeabletocomebackfromthis.”
Thereconstructivesurgerywashardonher,butthephysicaltherapythatsummerwasthemostbrutal.Hersparkwasgone,andtherewasnothingIcoulddotobringitbackforher.Ididn’twanttoleaveheroncefallrolledaround—itdidn’tfeelrighttogoonwithmydreamswhenshewasstuckathomewithouthers.Evenmorethanthat,Ijustwantedtobewithher.Footballdidn’tmatterasmuchtomeasshedid.
Butthen,shepulledaway.Ormorelikecutmeoff.SheleftmewithnochoicebuttogotoUTasplanned—andthenafterIgotthere,shewouldn’treturnanyofmycallsortexts.Itfeltlikethemostpainfulbreakupeventhoughwe’dneverdated.Wewentfouryearswithouttalking,andstilltothisdayIhavenoideawhyshedidthat.She’sthrivinginhernewlifenow,sowedon’trevisitthepast.I’mtooscaredtoheartheanswertowhyshecutmeoutbackthen.
WhenIgraduated,gotsignedbytheSharks,andmovedtoLA,Breewasheretoo.Ibelieveitwascheesy,old-fashioned,honest-to-goodnessfatethatbroughtusbacktogether.Iwalkedintoalocalcoffeeshop,thebellchimedovermyhead,andshelookedupfromabook,eyeslockingwithminefromacrosstheroom.Shewasadefibrillatortomychest.Bam.Myhearthasn’tbeatthesamesince.
Thatday,Ifoundmyoldfriendagain.ThefriendIknewbeforetheaccidentwhowassofulloflifeandenergy,exceptevenbetter.Shewashealthier,shehadtheseincredible,soft,femininecurvesthathadnotbeentherebefore,andherkneehadhealedupenoughthatshewasabletoworkasaninstructoratthestudioshenowowns.Unfortunately,shehadaboyfriendthen.Don’tevenrememberhisname,buthewasthereasonIdidn’taskheroutonthespot.
WepickedbackupwithourTuesdaytradition,andI’vebeenbarrel-rollingintothevast,never-endinghellholeknownasthefriendzoneeversince.I’mafraidI’lldieinthisfriendzonebecauseshe’sconstantlyremindingmethatshe’snotinterestedinanythingromantic.Almosteverydayshesaysaterriblephraselike:
“Justfriends.”
“Practicallymybrother.”
“Incompatible.”
“Twoamigos.”
Anyway,that’swhyIdidit.Icouldn’tbeartostandbackandwatchherlosesomethingimportanttoherwhenIcouldeasilyfixitthistime.SoI’vesecretlybeenpayingherrent,andshewillbefuriousifsheeverfindsout.
Imakeamentalnotetocheckinlaterwithol’Mr.LandlordjustasBree’sfingerfallsawayfrommymouth.“Seriously,don’tworry!I’llfiguresomethingoutlikeIalwaysdo.Butfornow,I’lltakesomeibuprofenandiceitbetweenclasses.I’mokay.Ipromise.”
BecauseI’monlyherfriend,Ihavenochoicebuttoholdupmyhandsinsurrender.“Okay,I’llletitgo.Iwon’taskifIcangiveyoumoneyanymore.”
Shetipsacute,snootychin.“Thankyou.”
“Hey,Bree?”
“Yes?”sheaskssuspiciously.
“Doyouwanttomoveinwithme?”
Shegroansloudlyandletsherheadfallbackagainstthecouchcushion.“Nattthaaaannnn.Letitgo!”
“Seriously,thinkaboutit.Webothhateyourapartment—”
“Youhatemyapartment.”
“Becauseit’snotfitforhumanhabitation!I’mathousandpercentsurethere’smold,thestairsaresostickybutnooneknowswhy,andthatSMELL!Whatevenisthat?”
Shegrimaces,knowingexactlywhatI’mtalkingabout.“Someonesuspectsit’saraccoonthatgotinbetweenthewallsanddied,butwecan’tbecertain.Or…”Hereyesdart.“…itmightbeadeadhuman.”Shemumblesthatlastpart,andIconsiderholdingherhostageandforcinghertoliveinmyclean,mold-freeapartmentagainstherwill.
“Bestofall,ifyoulivedhere,youwouldn’thavetopayanyrent,andthenyouwouldn’tneedtomakeasmuchfromthestudio.”It’saloophole,awayforhertocutcostswithoutacceptingasingledimefromme.
BreeholdsmygazeforsolongIthinkshe’swavering.“No.”
She’saneedle,andI’mafullballoon.“Why?Youalreadypracticallylivehere.Youevenhaveyourownroom.”
Sheholdsupacorrectingfinger.“Guestroom!It’saguestroom.”
It’sherroom.Shemakesmecallittheguestroom,butshehasspareclothesinthere,somecolorfulthrowpillowssheaddedherself,andseveralitemsofmakeupinthedrawers.Shesleepshereatleastonceaweekwhenwestayuptoolatewatchingamovieandshe’stootiredtowalkhome.Yeah,that’stheotherthing—herapartmentisonlyfiveblocksdownthestreet(yes,fiveblocksmakesahugedifferenceinabigcitylikeLA),sowe’repracticallyalreadyroommates,justseparatedbyhundredsofotherroommates.Logic.
“No,andI’mserious—dropit,”shesaysinatonethatletsmeknowI’minchinguptopushy-asshole-best-friendterritoryandIneedtocoolit.
Somemightbetemptedtothinkmyfull-timejobisproathlete.Wrong.It’sforcingmyselftobehaveinsidethisgreyareawithBreewhereI’mwildaboutherontheinsideandnothingbutaplatonicguy-friendontheoutside.It’sacruelformoftorture.It’sstaringatthesunandnotblinkingeventhoughitburnslikehell.
Oh,anddidImentionIaccidentallysawhernakedafewweeksago?Yeah,thathasn’thelped.Breedoesn’tknow,andIdon’tintendontellingherbecauseshe’dgetsuperweirdaboutitandavoidmeforawholeweek.Weeachhaveakeytotheother’sapartment,soIletmyselfinlikeIalwaysdo,butthistimeIhadforgottentotellherIwascomingover.Shewalkedoutofthebathroombuttnakedandthenwentbackinwithouteverseeingmestandingthereinthehallway,jawsweepingthefloor.Iturnedaroundimmediatelyandleft,butthatbeautifulimageisburned—no,somethingbetterthanburned…engraved,transcribed,memorializedinmymemoryforever.
“Givemeonevalidreasonwhyyoudon’twanttolivehere,andI’llletitgoforgood.Scout’shonor.”Iholdupmyrighthand.
Breeeyesit,triesnottosmile,andthenfoldsdownmypinkyandthumb.“You’renotaBoyScoutsoyourhonormeansnothing,butIcan’tmoveinwithyoubecauseitwouldbetooweird.There,Igaveyouananswer.Nowyouhavetodropit.”Breehopsupfromthefloor,andthistimeIlethergo.Hercurlyponytailswingsbehindher,loosewispsclingingtothesweatonherneckasshewalksintothekitchen.
Ifollowbehind,notreadytodropthetopicofconversationquiteyetbecauseIthinkIfinallyfoundtherealreason.“Whowoulditbeweirdfor?YouorMartin?Surelyheknowshehasnothingtoworryaboutbetweenus.”Istronglydislikeherboyfriend.Hedoesn’tdeserveher.Imean,Idon’tdeservehereither,butthat’sbesidethepoint.Whatkindofdouchebagwouldbeokaywithhisgirlfriendlivinginahazardousbuildingandnotofferforhertomoveinwithhim?
Bree’seyesleavemine,hermouthtwistingtotheside.She’sdebatingsomething,andIliftmybrowstoencourageher.“Bree?”
Shespinsaway,andherwristfullofever-present,colorfulbraidedbraceletsdivesintohermonstrosityofapurse.“DidImentionIhavesomethingforyou?It’llcheeryourightupafteryourbreakupwithScreechy…ImeanKelsey.”Shechucklestoherselfoverherlittlequip,andItrynottoletherseemesmile.Icouldn’tcarelessaboutmybreakupwithKelsey.I’mmoreconcernedaboutwhyshe’stryingtochangethesubjectrightnow.
Shedigsanddigsanddigsthroughherbag,andIknowwhat’scoming.Breehasatrinketobsession.Ifsheseessomethingthatremindsherofoneofherfriendsorfamilymembers,shebuysitandstuffsitinthatMaryPoppinssatcheltobestowuponuslater.Ihavetwowholeshelvesofitemsshe’sgivenmeovertheyears.HersisterLilyhasthreeshelves.Wemadeabetoncetoseewhohadmore“Breenkets,”aswecallthem,andIlost.Lilybeatmebyseven.
Finally,shefindswhatshe’slookingfor,andoutofherbottomlessbagcomesaminiature-sizedmagiceightball.
Herrainbownailsplaceitdelicatelyinmyupturnedpalm,andshequietlysays,“Numbereight.Youknow,becauseyou’renumbereightontheteam.”I’llsetitnexttomynumbereightplayingcard,numbereightshotglass,andnumbereightbirthdaycandle.“Also,MartinandIbrokeup.”
Wait,huh?
Theworldstopsspinning.Cricketssilence.Everyone,everywhereontheplanetturnstolookatus.I,however,havetotryveryhardtoremainneutral.SomehowIinstinctivelyknowthatmyreactionrightnowiscrucialifIwanttokeepthestatusquoofourfriendship.Don’tmessthingsup,Nathan.
“Sincewhen?”
“Lastnight.Webrokeupafterthegame.”Heranswercomesoutfast.“Wellactually,Ibrokeupwithhimafterthegame.Hewasfinewithitthough.Itwasprettymuchmutual.”
Ican’tbelievethis.“Whydidn’tyoutellmebeforenow?”
Sheshrugs,herattentionfocusedonslidingherbraceletsupanddownherwristonebyone.“Justdidn’tthinkaboutit.”
“Lie.Nooneconvenientlyforgetsthattheybrokeupwithsomeonethey’vebeendatingforsixmonths.”
Shegritsherteethandrollshereyestome.“Fine!Ijustdidn’twantto,okay?Itwasn’tabigdeal.MartinandIbarelysaweachother,and…hewasboring.Wewereboringtogether.Nosparks.Ijustcouldn’tdoitanymore.”Breesaysallofthislookingcompletelynonchalant,whileIhavetoremindmyselftokeepbreathing—slowly,inandout,likeanormalhumanandnotlikeI’mshort-circuitingontheinside.
Becausethis—rightnow—istheveryfirsttimewe’vebothbeensingleatthesametimeinthelastsixyears.Somehowourrelationshipshavestaggeredthemselvesoutintoanalmosthumorouscycle.
Andnow…we’rebothsingle.
Atthesametime.
AndI’veseenhernaked.(Thatthoughthasnothingtodowithanything,itjustpopsintomyheadrandomlyfromtimetotime.)
IfIleanedinrightnowandkissedher,wouldsheletme?Wouldshecringe?Orwouldshemeltintomeandthatwouldfinallybetheendofourplatonicfriendship?Thesearethequestionsthatkeepmeawakeatnight.
Idon’tgettofindouttheanswers,though,becauseBreesuddenlysnatchesherpursefromthecounterandthrowsitoverhershoulder.“Okay,well,nowyouknow.So,I’llseeyou…sometime,”shesays,backingawayfrommewithacuriouslyflushedface.
Ifollowhertothedoor.“Tomorrow,”Isay,closingmyfingersaroundthemagiceightball.“I’mpickingyouuptomorrowforJamal’sbirthdaydinner,remember?”MyteammatesloveBree,callhertheSharks’littlesister.Irefusetoevercallherthat.
Shetripsbackwardoverashoeandcatchesherselfwithahandonthewall,herlonghoney-brownponytailwhippingherintheface.“Tomorrow?Ohyeah,Iforgot.Soundsgood!”She’sbeingsostrange.Or…morestrangethannormal,Ishouldsay.“Well…I’llseeyoutomorrowthen!”
Igrinasshetriestoleavethroughthefrontdoor,butherpursegetscaughtonthehandle,yankingherbackastep.Sheyelpsthenfreesherselfandrunsoutthedoor.
Withasigh,IlookdownatmynewestBreenket.“Well,magiceightball,whatdoyouthink?ShouldItellmybestfriendIloveher?”
Iturntheballover,andthemessagereads:Replyhazy,tryagain
Thenextdayduringpractice,it’sclearthatBree’ssingledomannouncementhastakenupalltheavailablespaceinmyhead.Ican’tfocusondrills.Iscrewuptoomanypasses.Jamal—thetoprunningbackonourteam—hasstartedcallingmebutterfingers,andit’scatchingonlikewildfire.Everyonethinksit’shilariousbecauseI’mneverlikethis.CoachisconcernedandthinksIhavetheflu.Hesendsforateamphysiciantocheckmytemperatureonthesidelinesinfrontofeveryone.Ifeellikeanidiot.
“Ijusthavesomethingonmymind,”ItellJamallaterwhenpracticeisoverandhe’sbadgeringmewithquestionsaboutwhymygamewassoofftoday.
Hegruntsalaughashefinishesbuttoninghisshirt.I’malreadydressedandsittingonthebenchinthemiddleofthelockerroom,waitingtogointothemediaroomtoanswerquestionswiththepressaboutourupcominggame.
“DoesithaveanythingtodowithyoubreakingupwithKelsey?”
Myheadfliesup.“How’dyouknowaboutthat?Ionlybrokeupwithheryesterdaymorning.”
Hispatronizingsmilesays,You’reanidiot.“SheannounceditonherInstagramlastnight,alongwithalinktoagossiparticleonInTouchMagazine’swebsite.”
“Dammit.”Ishouldhaveknownbetterthantodateher.Kelseyisamodelwhoatfirstseemednicebutthen,aftercloserexamination,turnedouttobeaspotlighthunter.Though,honestly,Ican’tsayIreallycarewhenawomanonlywantstodatemefortheattentionitbringsher.IonlydateotherwomenbecauseBreeisalwaysdatingothermen.Butcurrentlyshe’snot…andsinceIcan’tseemtofindawomanevenremotelyasamazingasBree,Ifeellikeit’stimeIquitlookinganywhereelse.
Plus,I’msickofmygirlfriendsbeingrudetoBree.It’slikewatchingsomeonetrytoswatabutterfly—cruelanddepressing.Suddenly,I’mworriedaboutthatarticleforotherreasons.Kelseycantalkshitaboutmeallday,butifsheevenmentionedBree’snameonce,I’llhavemylawyersalloverherfasterthanshecanblink.
“Didyoureadthearticle?”IaskJamalashepreensinthemirror.
HeletsoutagutturallaughthattellsmeI’mnotgoingtolikehisanswer.“OhyeahIdid.Andyou’regoingtohateit.”
Mybackgoesstraight.“DoesitmentionBree?”
Jamaltakesonelookatmyready-to-fightdemeanorandshakeshishead.“No,butyou’repathetic,youknowthat?Lookatyou,readytoruinsomeonetoavengethewomanyou’veneverevenkissed.Dude,youneedtogetagrip.EithergoafterBree,orbedonewithher.Clearlyyou’vegotsomepent-upfrustrationthat’sstartingtoaffectyourgame,andthatcan’thappenrightnow,because…playoffs,bro.PLAYOFFS.”He’sshakinghisfistsinadesperateattempttomakemeunderstand.AsifIdidn’talreadyknowtheplayoffsareimportant.
IignoreJamal.“Justtobeclear,though,thearticledoesn’tmentionBree?”
Hegivesmeaflatlook.“No.Yourobjectofdesireissafefromslander.You,however…”Helaughslikefriendsdowhentheyseeaboogerstucktothesideofyourfacebutdon’tintendtotellyouit’sthere.
Again,Iignorehim.“Icouldn’tcarelessaboutthearticle,then.”Myimagehasneverbeenimportanttome.AllIcareaboutisplayingagoodgame.“Besides,weonlydatedforafewmonths.Idoubtshecouldcomeupwiththatmuchdirtonme.”MostlybecauseI’mboring.Idon’tparty.Idon’tdrinkduringtheseason.Igotobedearlyandwakeupearly.
Jamallookslikehe’sabouttoburstfromjubilantanticipation.Hissmileisgrinchy,hiseyebrowsarelifted,andnowmaybeI’malittlenervousaboutwhatKelseysaid.Heclapsmeonthebackonhiswayoutofthelockerroom.“Comefindmewhenyou’rereadytoreadit,okay?Idon’twanttomissseeingyourfacewhenyoudo.”
AsJamalisleaving,anotheroneofmyteammateswalksthroughthelockerroomandheadsfortheshowerwhilelaughingatwhateverhe’slookingatonhisphone.
“What’sup,Price?”Iaskwithaheadnodeventhoughhe’snotlookingatme.
Helaughsbiggerandpassesbyme.“Notyouapparently!”
Ihavenoideawhatthat’ssupposedtomean,butsomethingtellsmeI’mnotgoingtolikeitwhenIfindout.“OHMYGOSH,I’mdrooling.Imani,grabmeamopsoIcancleanupthispuddle.”
“Shhhhh,she’sgonnahearus.Keepitdown,youdodo!”
“Idon’tcareifshehears,sheneedstoknowit’sunbelievableshe’snotjumpingthatpieceof—”
Iclearmythroatandfoldmyarms,tappingmyfootlikeIremembermymomdoing—althoughIrefusetothinkofmyselfasthesegirls’mombecauseI’mabsolutelynotoldenough.I’mmoreliketheirbigsister.Yeah,theirsupercoolbigsisterwhothey’dbeluckytohangoutwith!
“Handitover,”Isay,handoutstretchedtowardthegroupofsixteen-year-oldballetstudentshoveringominouslyaroundaphone.Andyeah,nowIfeelliketheirmom.
“See,Hannah,youandyourbigmouthwentanddidit.”Imanirisesfromtheirlittlehuddleinthecornerofthestudiowheretheywerewaitingforclasstobeginandpadsgracefullyacrossthehardwoodfloortome.
Thepinkandbluebejeweledphonecaselandsinmypalm,andIlookdowntofindaphotoofNathaninasexyadofsomesort,wearingnothingbuthisuniformpantsandareallyawesomepairofblackcleats.Hisabsareripplingunderthestudiolighting,andthere’smorethanalittlesheenreflectingoffhistautskinfromalltheoilthat’sbeen
IswipeoutofthephotoeventhoughIwanttocopyandpastetheURLandtextittomyself.“Firstofall,yougirlsshouldn’tbelookingatthis.He’salmosttwiceyourage!”
“So!Sexinessknowsnoage.”Sierra—alsosixteen—istheonetoshoutthatlittlegem.
“Believeme,itdoes.Justaskthelaw.”Theyallrolltheireyes.Sixteen-year-oldsareterrifying.“Andsecondofall,thisis100%photoshopped.Hedoesn’tlooklikethisinreallife.”Helooksbetter.
Hannahpointsaggressivelyatme.“Biteyourtongue!He’sthehottestmanintheworldandeveryoneknowsit.Andwewanttoknowhowyoucanbebestfriendswiththatgodamongmenandnothitit.”
Iwrinklemynose.“Ew,don’tsayhitit.Wheredidyoulearntotalklikethat?”
“You’reavoidingthequestion,”saysHannah.She’stheringleaderofsassinessinthisclass.
Icrossthefloorofthelongslenderstudiotoreachthesoundsysteminthebackcorner.Remoteinhand,Iriseontomytoesandspinaroundtofacethelittlefresh-facedjurynowlinedupbythefloor-to-ceilingmirror,armsfolded.Thesetinybabiesmeanbusiness.
“I’mnotavoidingthequestion.I’mjustnotdignifyingitwithananswer!Plus,it’saninappropriateclassconversation.Mybusinesswithmyfriendismyown,notyours.”Iwanttoboopeachofthemonthenosetodrivethepointhome.
“Butyoulovehim,right?”asksImani
Iputmyhandsonmyhips.Ugh,moremomposing.“IfIansweryou,canwestartclass?”
“Yes,”theSpiceGirlsofballetanswerinunison.
“Thenno,Idonotlovehim,SamIam.Idonotlovehiminacar,Idonotlovehiminabar.Idonotlovehimwithahat,Idonotlovehimwithacat,”IchirpadorablywhiletwirlingandwhimsicallyconveyingthislieinawayIhopethey’llunderstand.
Theirfrownsaredeep.TheythinkI’msouncool.
ThereisnowayI’mgivingthesegirlswhattheywant:thetruth.TellingthemhowIactuallyfeelaboutNathanwouldbelikethrowingthousandsofPixyStixintoaroomoftoddlers.They’dgonutsandI’dneverhavepeaceagain.There’salsotheveryrealpossibilitythattheywouldfindawaytocontacthimandtellhimeverythingIsay.BettertolieandpretendIdon’tcareaboutNathaninthatway.
“That’ssoboring!”oneofthegirlsmoans.“What’sthepointofevenhavingahotbestfriendifyou’renotgoingtobanghim?”
“OKAYEVERYONEGETINTOPOSITION!”IyellandclapmyhandstogetherlikeaParisianinstructorwhoseonlygoalinlifeistodriveherstudentstothebrinkofdeath.WhichissortofwhatIplantodotoday.
Justbecausethisisaninexpensiveballetclass,doesn’tmeantheygetacheapeducation.IinstructthesegirlswiththesameprecisionandexpectationsIreceivedinmyfancy-shmancy-pricey-diceystudiogrowingup.IcringethinkingbacktohowmyparentsandIhadtoworkourbuttsofftoaffordthatplace.Yes,youheardmecorrectly,myparentsANDIhadtoworkforit.Neitherofmyparentseverhadjobsthatpaidparticularlywell,andbecausetheywerealsotakingcareofmygrandmotherwhofoughtanaggressiveformofcancerformostofmychildhood,mydadworkedtwojobstomakeendsmeet.Moneywastightatalltimes.
MysisterandIbothworkedduringhighschoolinordertopayforourcars,insurance,funstufflikemovietickets,andevenpartofmyballettuition.IwishastudioliketheoneIownnowhadexistednearmewhenIwasyoungerformanyreasons.
1)Weoperateonincome-basedtuition.Thatmeansifyourparentsmakeless,yourtuitionislessandwemakesureyoucanaffordtocometoballet.Becausedanceshouldn’tbeavailableonlytothewealthy.Itshouldbesomethingforeveryonetoenjoy.Itshouldn’tbeaburden.
2)Mystudiofocusesnotonlyontechniqueandpractice,butonthewholeperson.Icareaboutthesegirls.Icareifthey’reeating.Icareiftheyhaveclothesforschoolinthefall.Icareiftheyarefightingwithafriendandneedahugoraridetoclassthatday.Icaremoreaboutwhattheireyesaretellingmethantheturnoutoftheirfeet.BecauseasIhavelearnedfirsthand,balletcanslipfromyourgraspinablink,butyoursouliswithyouforever.I’mfinallytakingmymom’sadviceandimplementingitinmystudents’danceeducation.
Butdon’tgetmewrong,Ialsocareabouttheturnoutoftheirtoes,andrightnowaswepractice,Igivethemthekindofinstructiontheycanbeproudof.Whentheygraduatefromhighschool,IwantthemtofeelliketheyreceivedallthetrainingtheyneededtogoontodanceinacompanyorapplytoJuilliard.Duringthisone-hourclass,Igivethesegirlsmyall,andIexpectthesameinreturnfromthem.
However,somesacrificeshavetobemadeinordertoprovidelowertuition.Asfarasballetstudiosgo,thisoneisminiscule.It’samousehole—amouseholesituatedintheupstairsportionofapizzaparlorwhereithasthrivedfortenyears.Itookitoverfromtheoldowner,Ms.Katie,fouryearsago,andI’veneverlookedback.Thisismysliceofheaven.Itsmellslikeyeastandpepperonisandsoundslikeclassicalmusicandlaughter.
Afterclassisover,Itakeupmyusualpositioninfrontoftheexitinthefour-foot-widehallwaythatextendsthelengthofthestudio.It’slinedwithdancebags,waterbottles,andshoes,bookendedbyonesingle-stallbathroomononesideandmypunctuationmarkofanofficeontheoppositeend.
Thegirlslineupwiththeirbagsslungovertheirshouldersandgooutthedooronebyone,pausingtolistentotheinspirationalmessageItellthemeverytimetheyleave.Theywanttoplucktheirearsofffromhavingtohearitsooften,butIwillwaxeveryhairfrommybodybeforeIstoptellingthem,becauseIknowtheyneedtohearit.IholdoutthebasketofhomemadeoatmealproteincookiesImakeeachweekformyclasses.
“Imani,I’mproudofyou.You’rebeautifulandworthyjustthewayyouare.Takeacookie.”Shedoesandrollshereyeswithagrin.“Sierra,I’mproudofyou.You’rebeautifulandworthyjustthewayyouare.Takeacookie.”Shestickshertongueoutandwrinkleshernose.Istickmineoutinreturn.
Igodownthelineofalleightdancers,lookingineachoftheireyes,notingifthere’sanythingthatseemsoff,makingsuretheylooknottooskinny,likethey’vebeensleeping,liketheyarenotlosingtheirsoultodancelikeIwishmyteacherswouldhavedoneforme.Becausehere’sthethingaboutdancersatthislevel:theywilldoanythingtosucceed,whichusuallytranslatestoworkingthemselvessohardtheirfeetbleed,starvingthemselvessotheirbodieshaveleanerlines,constantlystrivingforperfectionandspendingmoretimedancingthanliving.Thatwasmeatonepoint,andI’msothankfulit’snotmeanymore.Now,IeatwhenI’mhungry,andIlivelifeoutsideofdance
Thatcaraccidentsavedmylife,becauseifIhadgoneontoJuilliardwiththeunhealthymentalitytowardmybodyandworkaholiclifestyleIhadatthetime,I’mnotsurewhatwouldhavehappenedtome.Now,Iwillmakesuremydancersfeelseen,andloved,anddammit,FED!
Hannahisthelaststudentintheline,andasshegetsreadytotakeacookie,myoverprotective-teacherradarstartsblaringbecausehereyesarecastdown.Usuallyshemakesafaceatmeliketheothergirlsonherwayoutthedoor.Ipullthebasketofcookiesawayatthelastsecondbeforeheryoung-adulthandcangrabone.
“Ah-ah-ah,”IsaylikeI’mreprimandingapuppythat’stoocutetoactuallyscold.Iholdthebasketfaraway.“Nocookieforyouunlessyoutellmewhat’supwiththedartyeyes.”
Oooo,IforgotIwasdealingwiththeworstkindofteenager,though—alevel-fourteen,akaadrivingteenwhonowthinksshe’sagrown-assadult.
Shefoldsherarms.“Fine.I’mnothungryanyway.”Hereyeballscutpurposelyawayfromme,butIcanstillseesomethinglurking.
Well,unluckyforher,Ineverfullygrewup.
Withhergazeturnedawayfromme,I’mabletoeasilypluckthesamelittlebejeweledcellphonethathadNathan’sgloriouspictureonitfromherhand.Iholditbehindmybackandconveywithmyeyesthatshe’snevergettingitbackifshedoesn’tcomply.Shegaspsindignantly,andImimicitlikeanannoyingparrot,wideningmyeyesmockingly
“Oh,didyouwantthis?Tellmewhat’swrongandI’llgiveitback.”
“Youcan’ttakemyphone!Thisisn’tschool.”
“Uh—IthinkIjustdid.”I’mruthless,butIdon’tcareifshe’smad,becausenowI’mconvincedsomethingisgoingonthatshe’snottellingmeabout,andIcaretoomuchabouthertoletitslide.
“MissB!”Shegroans.“Ineedtogo!Myshiftstartsinforty-fiveminutes,andIneedtogohometochange.PleasecanIhavemyphoneback?”
Imakeathinkingface.“Ummm…no.Tellmewhat’swrong.”
Herslendershouldersslumpasbestasaperfectlyrefinedballerina’sbodywillallow.“You’rereallynotgoingtoletmehaveitback?”Ismilepleasantlyandshakemyhead.Sherollshereyes.“Fine.Mydadlosthisjobagain.Hesaidthecompanyhadtomakebudgetcuts.I—Iknowmytuitionisalreadylow,butIstillmighthavetoquitcoming.Ican’tworkanymorehoursandstillkeepupmygrades.”
Iextendthepinkandbluejeweledphonebacktoher.“Thankyou.Now,thatwasn’tsohard,wasit?”
Shegivesmeadeathglare.“Itwasaninvasionofprivacy.”
“Sure,sure,Iseewhereyou’recomingfrom,but…Idon’tcare.”Igrinandhandheracookie.Shesmilesweakly,andIknowI’mforgiven.“Forgetabouttuitionuntilyourdadgetsbackonhisfeet.”
Shelooksstunned.“Areyouserious?MissB,Ican’t—”
“Ofcourseyoucan!Now,quitworrying—it’llgiveyouulcers.”Iturnaroundtoflickoffthestudiolightsandpickupmydufflebag.“IwanttoseeyouinclassonThursday.”
Oncewe’reoutthedoor,Ilockup,andwebothwalkdowntheextremelysteepandnarrowstairsthatleadtotheparkinglot.Thesmellofpizzadoughpunchesmeinthestomach,andIwanttochuckthesehealthycookiesacrossthebuildinganddevourasupremestuffed-crustpizzainstead.You’dthinkaftersixyearsofsmellingthishauntingyeastyaroma,I’dbeusedtoit,maybeevensickofit.Nope.
Hannahturnstomeafterwemakeittothebottomofthestairs.Sheopenshermouth,butnowordscomeout.Idoseetearsclingingtoherlonglashesthough.Sheslowlyletsherbreathoutandthennods.“Thanks,MissB.I’llbehere.”
Andthat’sallIwant.Well,thatandmoremoneytoraindownlikemannafromheavensomehow.I’mnotsurehowI’llmakeitworkwithoutHannah’stuitionandanalreadytightbudget,butIrefusetoturnawayagirlwhoneedshelp
ThememoryofanInstagrampostIsawearlierthisweeksuddenlypopsintomymind.ItwasfromTheGoodFactorysayingthatoneoftheirincrediblespacesisgoingtobecomeavailablenextmonth,andtheyarecurrentlytakingapplications.I’vedreamedofsecuringaplaceinTheGoodFactoryeversinceIlearnedaboutitafewyearsago.It’sagiantoldrenovated—youguessedit—factorythatwasendowedinsomerichbenefactor’swillwiththespecificpurposeofofferingfreerentalspacesfornon-profitorganizations.Theonlyoverheadcostsorganizationsarerequiredtocoverareforanyadjustmentstheyneedtomaketothespace(whichformewouldbeaddingmirrorsandaballetbarre).ThereareonlyfifteengiganticspacesavailableforuseinthefactoryandtheyareALWAYSoccupied,because,duh,whowouldn’twanttobeinthere?
Eachspaceislinedwithgorgeouswindows,hardwoodfloors,andexpansiveexposedbrickwalls.Ibetthere’snotahintofayeastscentanywhereinthatbuilding.Iwanttoapply,becausewiththefreerent,Iwouldofficiallybeabletoconvertmystudiotoanon-profitandlowertuitionpricestonearlyfree.ButevenasIthinkofapplying,Irollmyeyes.There’snowayI’dgetselectedamongthehundredsofotherapplicants.I’velearnedbynownottocounttoomuchonsomethinginthefuturethat’scompletelyoutofmyhands.BesttomakedowiththeresourcesIhaveavailabletomenow.
IwatchHannahwalktohercarandwaituntilshe’ssafelyinsidetogotomyown.Itossmybagontheoppositeseatthat’salreadypiledhighwithsweatersandwaterbottlesthencheckmyphone.I’mnotsurprisedtoseeanewvoicemailfromNathanbecausewehavebecomeverygoodatavoicemail-and-textfriendship.Wetendtocallandleavemeaninglessvoicemailsfornoreason.Likecellphonepenpals.
“Hey,isittruethatsomecaterpillarsarepoisonous?SomehowonemadeitswayintomytruckandthendisappearedwhenIlookedaway.NowI’mwonderingifIshouldbuyanewvehicleandjustgivehimthisone?Whatdoyouthink?”
Iimmediatelycallhimbackandleaveamessagewhenhedoesn’tanswer.“Ihaven’thadtimetoGoogleityet,butbettersafethansorry.Canyougetaflashysportscarthistime?Also,I’mreallycravingacherryslushie.DoesthatmeanIhaveavitamindeficiency?That’sall.K,bye.”
AfterIhangup,Iperusetheinternet,tryingtofindthatphotothegirlswerestaringatbeforeclass.IhearaloudknockonmyapartmentdoorfollowedbyNathan’svoice.“Bree!Youhere?”
“Beoutinasecond!”IyellfrommybathroomwhereI’vejustfinishedapplyingmyfacemask.
It’sonly5:30PM.He’salittleearlytopickmeupforJamal’sparty,andI’mstillinmystrappyblackleotardwithmyherringbonetexturedleggingsovertop,butmoreimportantly,brightgreengooiscurrentlyhardeningonmyskin.IshouldprobablyworryaboutwhatNathanwillthinkofmeinthisthing,buthonestly,he’sseenmeinworse.Andthisisoneoftheperksofneveranticipatingarelationshipwithyourbestfriend—youcanlooklikedumpandstillhangout!
Welcometothebrightside,friends!
IleavethebathroomandheadtowardthekitchenwhereIseeNathanrummagingthroughmyfridge.He’sbentoverwhenIwalkin,andmystomachdoesaflipatthesight.
“Applesareinthebottomdrawer,”Isay,forcingmygazeawayfromhisderriere,because,ummhello,friendsdon’toglefriends’butts.Evenwhenthosebuttslookamazinginapairoftight,greychinopants.
“Ah—thankyou.”Hestandsupandshutsthefridgewithhisspoilsinhand.Whenheturnstofaceme,theappleisalreadybetweenhisteethandhefreezesmid-crispy-bite.Hiseyeswidenandhissmilegrowsoneithersideoftheredforbiddenfruit.
“What?”Iask,leaningbackagainstthecounterlikeeverythingisperfectlynormal.“DoIhavesomethingonmyface?”
Heletsoutagutturallaugh,andthesoundissohimitstirsmeinwaysawomanwithherfacepaintedlikeafrogshouldn’tbefeeling.Infact,Ishouldn’tbethinkingsexythoughtstowardNathanever,butit’sjust…it’sDIFFICULT,okay?I’mawomanwithveryopinionatedovaries,andletmetellyou,they’rerealhussies.Currently,asNathanripsthebiteoffthatappleandtiltshisheadatmewithaplayfulsmile,theyaredowntherewaxingpoeticabouthowhissoft,whiteteefitshimsowellitlookslikeadeitypluckedhimupbyhisfeetanddippedhimheadfirstintoasensualcottonpond.Inconclusion,Iamdeceasedatthesightofhim.
“ShouldIbeworriedaboutwhateverishappeninghere?”Hewiggleshisbigmanfingersacrossthefrontofhisface
“OnlybecausewhenIwashitoff,I’llbesodevastatinglygorgeousyoumightdieonthespot.”
It’sajoke,clearlya100%facetiousstatement,butNathanswallowshisbiteofapple,andthenhiseyesdoaveryoddthing:theytiptoedownmybody.
Itonlyhappensthatonetimeandhisgazedoesn’ttakethesamepathbackup,butpartofmewonders…no!Nowondering!Shutupdownthere,youlittleinstigators.
IregisterthewinkofdesirerunningthroughmeanddothesamethingI’vealwaysdoneoverthelastsixyears,whateverygoodco-edbestfrienddynamichasperfected.IdartaroundthekitchenlikeIhavesomethingveryimportanttodo,pretendinglikeitneverhappened.Atallcosts,INEVERacknowledgethefeelingofdesire.
IturntowardthecounteratmybackandfindacherryslushieinaStyrofoamcup.Igasplikeit’sagobletfullofstolenjewels.“YOUBROUGHTMEASLUSHIE!?”Ihavetosaythisinawaythatprojectsmyvoiceandconveysexcitementwithoutcrackingthemaskonmyface.It’sanimportantskilltomasterinlife.
Ihearhimchuckleandbiteintotheappleagain.“Yousaidyouwerecravingone,right?”
“Yeah,butIdidn’tmeanforyoutogogetmeone,”Isaybeforeputtingthestrawinmymouthandtakingalongsipuntilmybrainfreezesdeliciously.
Nathanisstaringatmebeforelookinggrumpyandshootinghisgazedowntohisphone.“It’sreallynotabigdeal.”Hethumbshisscreenthensetshisphonedownonthecounterwithaloudthud.“I’msosickofthisthing,”hesays,dashingananxioushandthroughhishair.“Ifeellikeitgoesoffnonstop.Icannevergetabreak.”
Heleavesmylittlegalleykitchentomoveintothelivingroomandplopsdownonmycouch.Ican’thelpbutchuckleatthesightofhim,limbscompletelysprawledoutandhangingoffeverysurfaceofmyteeny-weenyfurniture.HelookslikehejustclimbeddownthebeanstalkanddecidedtonaponBabyBear’scouch.Hisdarkeyesclose,andIsense
“Wecouldstayinandwatchamovie,youknow.I’msureJamalwillunderstandifwemisshisdinner.”
Nathandoesn’topenhiseyes.“Nah,Iwanttogo.It’simportanttohimthatIbethere.”
Isigh,knowingNathanisasimmovableonhisreluctancetopassanythingupinfavorofrestingasIamabouttakingmoneyfromhim.Iimagineagirlfriendwouldprobablyclimbrightontopofhimandpinhimdown,givinghimnochoicebuttostayinforthenight.
ButI’mnothisgirlfriend.
Ishakemyselffromthatfantasy.“Okay,wellIneedtogowashthisgoopoffmyfaceandthenwecan—”
I’minterruptedbythesoundofNathan’sphonebuzzingonthekitchencounter.Ilookovermyshoulder,butheholdsuphishand,signalingformetoleaveitbe.“Shhh,noonemoveandmaybethey’llthinkI’mnothome.”
“Icanansweritandpretendtheyhavethewrongnumber.”
“NoonebelievedyourFrenchlasttime.”
That’strue.Tim,Nathan’smanager,mademehandNathanthephonerightaway
Nathangrabsthelimegreenpillowrestingunderhisheadandpullsituptoburyhisfacein.There’sanoddsenseofsatisfactionthathumsthroughmebecauseIgettoseehimlikethis,becauseheonlyletshisguarddownwithme.“I’msureit’sjustNicoleorTimwantinganotherpieceofmysoul.”
Thephonestopsringing.
“Someoneisdramatictonight.”
Nathanpeeksoverthepillowandliftsabrow.“I’mdramaticeverynight.”
Hiseyesshutagain,andIletmyselfhaveonelastgoodlonglookathim.He’slyingontopofapileofcleanclothesthathavelivedinthatspotforaweek.Therearenailpolishesscatteredallovermycoffeetableandbillsopenonthefloor.Thefunnythingis,Nathanisthephysicalmanifestationoforderandtidiness,buthe’sneveroncetriedtocleanupmyspace.(AndthankgoodnessbecauseIknowunderthepileofleggingsinthecornerofmyroomisanopenmagazinewitharedpenlyingunderneath,andifheevermovedthatpile,I’dhavenoideawheretheredpeniswhenIneedit!)He’snevermadeanegativeremarkabouthowIliketolivemessyorsuggestedorderinmylife.Hejustliesdownontopofmyclothes.
ImentallygrabmyselfbytheponytailandprymyselfawayfromNathantorinsethecrackingmaskoffofmyface.Ichangeintosomecuteandcasualpartygoingjeansandat-shirt,andjustasI’mexitingmyroom,IhearaloudseriesofquickbuzzeseruptfromNathan’sphoneinthekitchen.It’sanewvoicemailalert.I’mdownmyshorthallwayandalmosttothelivingroomwhenNathanyells,“HeySiri,playthatvoicemail.”
Ilovetechnology.Givingustheselittleservants.
ThenextvoiceIhear,though,stopsmedeadinmytracks.
It’smylandlord.
“Hello,Mr.Donelson,thisisVanceHerbert…”
IturnaroundandmakeeyecontactwithNathan,who’snowsittingupstiffasaboardonthecouch.Webothstareateachotherforexactlyonesecond,andthenwesimultaneouslyboltforthekitchen.Iwascloser,though,soI’mtheonetogettothephonefirst.
Ipickitupandmakeabreakformybedroom.Nathanisrightonmyheelsandtryingtocatchmyarms,butIzigzagandevadehisgrip.Quick,someoneputmeintheNFL.Wesoundlikeapackofelephantsstampedingtheapartmentbuilding,allwhileVance’svoicecontinuesoninasoft,monotonecadence.“Ijustwantedtoletyouknowthatallofthepaperworkhasbeenfinalized—”
“BREE!GIVEMETHATPHONE!”
“Notachance!”
Imakeitintomybedroomandtrytoslamthedoorinhisface,buthisbighandcatchesitandthrustsitbackopen.Ilungetojumpovermybed,hopingtomakeittomybathroomwhereIcanlockthedoor.ButNathangrabsmyhipsmid-jumpandhaulsmedownontomybed.Igrewupwithanoldersister,though,soI’mpracticallyCIAlevelwhenitcomestoprotectingmystuff.
Ishovethephonedownintomybra—theoneplaceIknowNathanwillnevergo.
Justasheflipsmeoversomyshouldershitthemattressandhe’shoveringoverme,armspinningmeinoneitherside,wehearthefinalwordsfromVance.“…andyouaretheofficialownerofthebuilding.IhadmyrealtorpassthekeysalongtoyoursandwillbecallingMs.CamdentoletherknowI’vesoldthebuildingandshe’llhaveanewlandlordfromnowon—butasdiscussed,Iwillnotmentionyourname.Ifyouoryourrealtorcouldcallmebackandletmeknowwhichnameandcontactyouwouldlikemetogiveher,I’dmuchappreciateit.Haveaniceday.”
Theroomgoeseerilysilent,exceptforthesoundofmyheartpoundinginmyears.I’mlookingdownatwherehiscellphoneissilhouettedundermysportsbra,andwhenIliftmygaze,Nathan’sblackeyesarestaringatme.Helookslikeamanwhojustlosteverythinginabadhandofpoker.
“You…?”
Hedoesn’tneedmetofinishmysentence.“Yes.”
Neitherofusmakeanefforttomove,andforamomenttheshockofitallleavesmefrozen.MyeyestracethelinefromNathan’sshoulderdownhisbicep,tohiselbow,overhistanforearmdustedlightlywithhair,andtohishandpressedintomycomforter.
“Youboughtthewholebuilding?”
Hesighs.“Yes.”
“Wh—why?”
Thelookonhisfacesayshedoesnotwanttoanswer.“BecauseI’vebeenwantingtoinvestinrealestate?”
“Nathan.”
Heswallows,andIwatchhisAdam’sapplegoupanddown.Icanfeelhisbodyheatallaroundme.“Becausehekeptchangingthetermsoftheleaseagreementanditwasjusteasiertobuyitoutrightthannegotiateagain.Theguyissleazy.”
Iblinkahundredtimes.“Wait…whydidyousaytheleaseagreement,andnotyourleaseagreement?”
ThefactthathetakesseveralsecondstorespondalmosttellsmeeverythingIneedtoknowbeforeheevenspeaks.“Becausetechnicallyforthelastfouryears…it’sbeenourleaseagreement.”
TherealityofitcrashesintomeandIshootoutfromunderhimtopacetheroom.“NATHAN!Haveyoubeenpayingpartofmyrentallthistime?!”
Heswivelshislegssohe’ssittingontheedgeofthebed,handsclaspedbetweenhiskneesinfrontofhim,watchingmewalkbackandforth.“Yes.Ihave.”
Igroan/whimperasdollarsignssuddenlystartrotatingthroughmyvisionlikeaslotmachine.NathanhasbeenhelpingmefinanciallyforFOURYEARSwhenIhaveexplicitlytoldhimIdon’twantanyofhismoney!Thisisoneofmyrulesforbeingfriendswithhim:Noacceptingmonetarygifts.Theserulesareimportanttomebecausetheyhelpmekeepourfriendshipintherightbox.IfIstartlettinghimhelpfinancially,ifImoveinwithhim,ifIattendfancyeventsandpartakeinalltheperksgirlfriendsget,I’llgetconfused!
Hemightthinkit’snothingbecausehedoesn’thavefeelingsforme,butIwill100%getthingsmixedupinmyhead,anditwillcrushmewhenheneverwantstobemorethanfriends.MaybeI’msilly,butI’dprefertonothavemyheartstuffedintoatrashcompactorifIcanavoidit.
“Sothefirsttime…allthoseyearsagowhenVancetoldmehewasgoingtoraisetherentandthenhadasuddenchangeofheart…thatwasyou?YoucalledhimandnegotiatedtopaythepartofmyrentIcouldn’tafford?”
Nathan’slonglashesblinkhisanswerinmorsecode.“Bree…”
IwhiparoundtohimsohardI’msureI’llhaveacrickinmynecktomorrow.“What?Doyouwanttoapologizenowthatyougotcaught?Nowthatyou’reintrouble?”
“No.”
“No?!”Somehowthatanswerisevenmoreinfuriating.
“Ican’tapologizebecauseI’mnotsorrythatIdidit.”He’ssocalmandcollected.Mr.CoolCucumberheretothrowonhissunglassesandshowusallup.
I,incomparison,feellikeMs.ErraticWomanWhoStuckHerFingerInaLightSocket.“Howcanyounotbesorry?Youwentbehindmyback!Youliedtomealltheseyears.Ohgosh,I’mthousandsofdollarsinyourdebt!”Myhandspressintomycheeks.
“Youowemenothing.Notasingledime.You’renotinmydebtbecauseIdon’tneedanythingfromyou.”
“Yes,Idooweyou!”Myvoiceisscreeching.“Howcanyounotseethatthisishorriblyuncomfortableforme,Nathan?ItoldyouIdidn’twanttotakeyourmoney,andImeantit.”
Partofhiscoolandcollectedfacadeiscracking.Hestandsquickly.“Why?I’veneverunderstood!Itmakesnosensetome.Youaremybestfriend,sowhycan’tIhelpyouwhenyouneedmoney?IhavemorethanIknowwhattodowith!”
“Becauseyouwon’talwaysbehereforme,Nathan!”Okay,whoa,thatwaswaytooloud.Mystatementcutsthroughtheairlikeafoghorninabarfight.Peoplearepoisedwithchairsovertheirheads,readytocrackthemdownontheirfellowoutlawsandallblinkingatme
“Whythehellwouldyouthinkthat?”
“Becauseit’strue.”Ican’tmeethiseyeswhileIsaythis.“We’rejustfriends.WhathappenswhenIstartrelyingonyoufinanciallyandthenonedayyougetmarriedandyourwifesuddenlydoesn’tlikeitthatyou’repayingforanotherwoman’srentandalltheotherthingsyou’dpayforifIletyou?”
Heshiftsfromonefoottotheother.“I…Iwouldn’tmarrysomeonewhowouldbelikethat.I’llfindsomeonewho’scomfortablewithourfriendshipthewayitis.”
Ilaughashort,sadlaugh.“Thereisnotasinglewomanwhowouldeverbeokaywithit,Nathan!It’saninevitablefactthatwehavetoface.Onedaywewillnotbeabletobesocloseanymore.Youwillfallinloveandmarryakickasswomanwhowantsyoualltoherself—assheshould—andyouwillwanttogiveheryourwholehearttoo.ThatiswhyIcannotrelyonyoufinancially.”There’sanuncomfortabletwistinginmychest.It’sonlyhalfofthetruth,butit’sallIcanreveal.
Istareathim,hopinghewillfinallygetitthroughhisbeautiful,benevolentheadthatIcan’tlethimbemysugardaddy.
Finally,afteralong,thoughtfulpause,hesays,“Howcomeyou’renotalsofallinginloveandgettingmarriedinthisscenario?”Histoneisnothingbutplayful.“SeemsunfairthatIgettofindmyfairytaleloveandyou’llbeovertherepennilessandlonely.”
Igrowlandshakemyfistsintheair.“I’MPAYINGYOUBACK!”Ipunctuateitwithanindignantstomp.Ceilingdrywalldustflitsthroughtheairlikesnow.
Heshakeshishead.“Noyou’renot.Iwon’tletyou.”
“Yes.I.Am.”Iblinkfuriouslyathim.“Idon’tknowhowandIdon’tknowwhen,butIwillfindawaytopayyouback.AndIexpectanormalleaseagreementtobesettledbetweenus!Nodeals!”
“Canyoustopyelling?Yourwholeceilingisabouttocavein.Andseriously,Bree,thatsmellisgettingworse.Itmightbemorethanonedeadraccoon.”
He’slostallreason!CuckooforCocoaPuffs!I’moverheretellinghimourfriendshiphasatickingclockonitandnegotiatingafairrent,whilehe’sinla-lalandtalkingaboutraccoons.
“Youwillnotdistractme.”Ijabafingerrightinthecenterofhistautchest.“It’stimeforyoutopromisemeyouwillstopmeddlinginmyfinancialaffairs.PromisemerightnoworI’mnotgoingwithyoutoJamal’spartytonight.”Icrossmyarmsandjutmyhipout.There.I’minchargeofthisshow,buddy.
AdangerousglintslowlyentersNathan’seyesashestepscloser,forcingmetopressmyfingerharderintohischest.“Sorry,butno.”Hestepsalittlecloser.“Doyouknowwhatit’sliketoseeyourbestfriendcareforeverysinglepersonunderthesunbutherself?Iwatchyoupoureverythingintothosegirlsandtheirfamilies,goingaboveandbeyondtonotonlygivethemincredibledanceinstructionbutalsomakethemfeellovedintheprocess.Andforsomereason,youthinkthatsamekindnessshouldn’tbeextendedtowardyourself.”
Hissmileturnsdefiantnow.
“Well,tough,friend.IhavemillionsofdollarsandIwillspoilyouwiththemifIwant.You’regoingtohavetothrowmeoffabridgeifyoudon’twantmemeddlinginyourlife,becausethat’swhatfriendsdo.Sogetusedtoit.Oh,andyou’regettingagooddealonyourdamnrentfromnowon.Soarethepeopleinthepizzaparlorbelowthestudio.”
Igasp.“Notfair!Youdon’tgettogoallsoft-squishy-teddy-bearNathanonme!”
“Ijustdid.Andifithelpsyousleepatnight,pretendIonlydidallofthisascharityforyourgirls.Ithadnothingtodowithyou.”
“That’sit.I’mnotgoingwithyoutonight.Endofstory.Youneedtobetaughtalesson.”Ifoldmyarms.Iamasolid,immovablestone.Iwillnotbeswayed!
Nathan’slaughisthelastthingIhearbeforeI’mscoopedupandtossedoverhisshoulder,buttaimeduptowardthesky.“NATHAN!Putmedown!”Iscreechashecarriesmeoutofmyroom.
“Thereisnothingwrongwithgettingalittlehelpinlife.Friendshelpeachothergetahead.Infact,Ithinkmynextprojectwillbegettingyououtofthisdump.”Heknocksaknuckleonthewallandpaintchipsfall.
“Don’tyoudarebuymyapartmentbuildingandrenovateit!”
“Imight.I’vegotmoneytoblow,baby.”
Whoisthisman?!
“You’reunhinged!”Iyellathisbutt.
“Yep.Feelsgoodtoo.Now,comeon,yellatmesomemoreinthetruck.Ireallydon’twanttogotothepartytonightwithoutyou,andIknowyoudon’twanttomissit.”
Ikickandflail.“Noway!I’mnotgoingwithyou.We’refighting!Youdon’tgettogetyourwayrightnow,youbigbrute!”HegivesmybehindasinglegentlepatafterIsaythewordbrute,whichmakesmegaspwithoutrageandalsowanttodielaughing.UGHHHHIhateNathan.Whycan’twejustfightlikenormalpeople?
“Youcan’ttouchmybutt!That’sagainsttherules,”Isayashewalksmebacktowardthefrontdoor,stoppingtoturnoutlightsashegoes.Myhairdanglesintheairbelowmelikeaweepingwillow.
“Ineverdidseealistwrittenoutanywhere.”
“I’llmakeyouoneandlaminateit!Whyareyouactingsoweirdtonightanyway?”It’sfreakingmeout.SomethingaboutNathanfeelsdifferent.He’salwaysbeenplayfulwithme,butnowhe’s…Irefusetoletmybrainfinishthatthought.
“IthinkI’mactingnormal.”
“No,you’renot,andI’mnotgoingwithyoutotheparty!PUTMEDOWN!Wait,canyougrabmytennisshoes?They’redowntherebesidethecouch.Anddon’tforgetmysweater!”
Withmestilldrapedoverhisshoulder,Nathansumosquatsandretrievesmyshoesbeforeturningoutthefinallight,pickingupmysweater,andtakingusintothehallway.Heswingsmearoundsohecanlockthedoorbehindus,andIfindmyselffacetofacewithmysweetelderlyneighborDorthea.Hercurlersareinherhairforthenight,andhereyesareaswideassaucers.
Ismilelikeeverythingisnormal.“Hey,Mrs.Dorthea.DidyougetthatstackofcouponsIslippedunderyourdoorthismorning?”
Mrs.Dortheaisawidow,andIknowshestrugglesfinancially.SinceIalsofallinthecategoryofstrugglingfinancially,themostIcandoisclipcouponsforherandsharemyleftovers.Morethanonce,however,she’sthankedmeforthehundred-dollarbillshefoundinhermailboxeventhoughInevergaveherone.Ithoughtmaybehermemorywasjustbeginningtoslip,butnowIseethetruth.Nathan.Ineedapaperbagtobreatheinto.InhowmanyotherareasofmylifehasthismansecretlyMotherTeresa-edme?
“Well,yes,honey,Idid…but…”She’satalossforwordssinceI’mcasuallythrownoverNathan’sshoulderlikethisisanormalwayforawomantobecarriedaroundinthetwenty-firstcentury.SomepartofmesaysIshouldbeappalledtobehauledaroundbyamanlikethis,butIcan’thearherbecausethelargerpartofmeistoobusyyelling,YES!Carrymebacktoyourcaveandmakesweet,sweetlovetome!
Suddenly,I’mswungaroundtheoppositeway,andnowmybuttisaimedatmypoorsweetneighbor.
“Hi,Mrs.Dorthea.Lookingprettyasalways.Doyouhaveeverythingyouneedtonight?”Nathanasks—withabigcharmingsmile,I’msure.Ibetallthosepearlywhitesarecompletelydazzlingher.
Yep.Hetotallysmiled,becausenowMrs.Dortheaistrippingalloverherwordstryingtothankhimforhiscompliment,assuringhimshe’sasblessedasthePopeandcongratulatinghimonanotherwinthispastweekend.Irollmyeyes
I’mthencarrieddownthreeflightsofdisgustingstairs.IcanhearNathan’sshoespeelingoffthestickyfloorwitheverystep.Yuck.You’dthinkthisapartmentwouldcomewithsuperlowrentforhowdisgustingthisbuildingis,butNOPE.That’sLAforyou.Ipaywaytoomuchtoliveinabuildingthatsmellslikearmpit.
Beforewemakeittothelobby,IdecideifNathancantouchmybutt,Icantouchhis.Iscrunchmynosethenmovemyfingerandthumbtowardhisbuttcheekwiththeintenttopinchthedaylightsoutofhimsohe’llputmedown.Thefirstattempt,however,isunsuccessful.Heonlylaughsandflexeshisrocksolidglute,makingitsothere’snopaddingIcangrabtoinflictdamage.
“Dolesssquats,”Itellhimwithaput-outtoneandfoldmyarms,resignedtodrapeoverhimlikeacoatuntilheputsmedown,wonderingwhereIwentsowronginourfighttonight.
WemakeittothetruckandNathanplopsmeintothefrontseat,shutsthedoor,andthengivesmeaStaylookthroughthewindow.Isearchmypocketsandfindausedgumwrappertotossonthefloorboardofhistruckoutofspite.
Nathanslidesintothedriver’ssideofhisblacked-outtruck—thewindowssodarknooneeverknowswho’sinhere,whichislotsoffun—andgivesmealookthatsays,Alright,letmehaveit.SoIdotheoppositebecauseI’minamoodtomakehimpayforhisgooddeeds.Iraisemybrowsinasassymockingexpressionthenpulloutmyphoneandsettleintomyseattoignorehimfortheentiredrive.
Hegroans.“Thesilenttreatment?Ohcomeon!Anythingbutthat.”Idon’tanswer,justturnmygazeoutthewindowlikeIcan’tbebotheredbyhisdistraction.“Fine.Makemepay.Ideserveit.”Heleansoverthecenterconsoleandretrievesthegumwrapper.Itgoesinthetinytrashcanhekeepsinhisdriver’ssidedoor.
I’llbehonest,though,it’stoughtofeeljustifiedmakingamanpayforbeingtookind.Iknowitwasunderhandedandmanipulativeanddeceptive,butdammititwassosweetIcouldcry.It’ssoNathanthattheonlythinghe’sguiltyofishavingtoobigofaheart.Iwishhewouldstopmakingmelovehimmore.It’sannoying.
AfterscrollingthroughTwitterforafewminutesandtryingtoblockoutNathan’sridiculousattemptstodrawmeinbyrappingto90shiphopsongsaboutbigbooties,IcomeacrossaretweetedarticlewithNathan’sfaceonit.Now,I’vebeenfriendswithhimlongenoughtoknownottoreadanyofthetabloidsabouthim,butthisonestandsoutforreasonsIcan’tignore.
“OHMYGOSH,I’LLMURDERHER!”IyellsoloudI’msurprisedNathan’swindowsdon’tshatter.
“Who?!”heasksfranticallywhilepullinghistruckintotheparkinglotoftherestaurantwherewe’remeetingupwiththeguys.
Iblinkdownatthearticle.“Kelsey!Yourhorribleex!Shewroteanarticleaboutyou…and…”Ilookupathim.“Haveyounotseenit?”
“Oh.”He’snotconcerned.“Iheardsomethingaboutit,butIhaven’tcaredenoughtocheck.IfiguredTimwouldcallmeifitwasthatbad.”
“Okay,wellIguessyoudon’tcarethatshe’sdeemedyouthelousiestloverinLA,then?”
“What?”
Thatgothisattention.
Nathantakesthephonefrommyhand,hiseyesscandownthearticle,andthenherelaxesandtossesthephonebackintomylap.“Eh,notsobad.Readytogoin?”
MymouthfallsopenandIpeerdownatthearticlethatwouldhavemeburyingmyselfalive.“Notsobad?Nathan,sheshamedyoufor…”IletthatsentencedieoffbecauseNathanandIhaveNEVERtalkedopenlyaboutoursexlivesbefore.Wetreatthetopiclikeit’sabuildingonfireandgiveitawideberth.Instead,IletmyeyesdroptotheforbiddenareaofhisjeansandhopethisconveysthewordsI’mtooembarrassedtosay.“Notbeingableto…well,youreadit,soyouknow.”
He’stryingnottosmile.“It’snotabigdeal.”Hereachesintothebackseatandacrisp,whitedressshirtmaterializes.Heshrugsitonandbuttonsitup.Notacareintheworld.
Idon’tunderstandhisnonchalancerightnow.
“Howareyounotupset?I’mpracticallyshakingwithrage!Iwanttogoputredantsinherunderweardrawer!Puthotsauceinhercoffeecreamer!Duct-tapehercardoorsshut!”
“Ooo,howdevious.Dothefedsknowaboutyou?”
Ilightlysmackhisshoulder.“Don’tlaugh!Thisisserious.”Forsomereason,I’mblinkingbacktearsrightnow.“She—shepubliclyshamedyouforhavingerectiledysfunction,Nathan.That’sahorriblethingtodo!Andhumiliating.Andyou’rethenicestguyinthewholeworld!AndIHATEHER!”
Nathanbarksoutalaughandhisheadtiltsuptoheavenlikehe’sprayingforwisdom.Hisbighandrakesthroughhishairthenheturnshiseyesonmeagain.“Bree,thankyouforyourconcern,butIdon’thaveerectiledysfunction.Sheblewthestoryoutofproportionandwasjusttryingtodigatmefornothavingsexwithher…andprobablyforchoosingyouoverherthedaywebrokeup.Butthejokeisonherbecause,asyou’vepointedout,it’sveryinsensitivetoshameanyoneforthecondition.”Hegesturestowardmyphone.“Justlookatthecommentsattheendofthatarticle.She’sgettingterriblebacklash,andmenaresayingtheyfeelbetterknowinganathletestruggleswiththesameconditiontheyhave.”Heshrugsagain.“Allinall,notaterribleoutcome.”
Yeah,yeah,yeah,he’ssonoble.Butmybrainstoppedlisteningafteroneveryimportantkeystatement.
“Wait.Goback.Didyousayfornot…”AgainI’matalossforwords.
NathanDonelsondidnotsleepwiththeunderwearmodelhedatedfortwomonths?Mybrainisnotcomputing.It’sgoingtoshutdown,andfumesareabouttopuffoutofmyears.
“Youneverhadsexwithher?Why?”IaskthisquestioneventhoughIshouldn’t.ButIneedtoknow,becauseNathanis…Nathan!Justlookathim.Heoozessexuality,andeverywomanintheworldwantshim.EvenMrs.Dortheaprobablyhasthehotsforhim!
Hisfaceisfrighteninglyserious.We’renotjokingaroundanymore.“BecauseI’mcelibate.”
“What!”IaccidentallyyellthissoloudawomanwalkingbesidethetruckturnstotrytopeerthroughthedarkenedwindowScram,lady.IlookbackatNathanandwhisper,“You’reavirgin?”
“No.”Hissmirkisalittletooindulgentifyouaskme.“IguessIshouldsayI’vebeencelibatelately.”
Ishakemyhead,thinkingofallthenightsIwantedtocrymyselftosleepthinkingofhimholdinganotherwomaninhisarms.HoldingKelsey.Turnsout,hewasn’t.“Idon’tunderstand…shewastherethemorningIbroughtcoffeeover.”
“You’reatmyhousealotinthemorningstoo.Thatdoesn’tmeanwe’vedoneanythingphysical.”
Isuddenlycan’tswallow.Orfeelmytoes.What’shappening?!WhyamIreactingthisway?Itchangesnothingreally—exceptIfeellikeeverythingIknewhaschangedtonight.Myfoundationisshaking.
Nathanseesmywideeyesandrumblesoutashortchuckle.“Whyareyoumakingthissuchabigdeal?”
“Because,”Isayemphaticallylikethat’senoughofananswer.“Youcouldhaveanyoneyouwantedatthesnapofyourfingers.Whywouldyoubecelibate?”INEEDTOKNOW!There’ssomethinghe’sstillnottellingme,andit’sbotheringme.Ididn’tthinkheandIhadanysecrets,butnowI’mlearninghehastwobigones!Howmanymorearethere?
Hisdarkeyesstarebackatme.“NotanyoneIwant.”
Myheartracesupmythroat.Thosewordsmixedwiththenightandthefactthatheboughtmystudioandwespendnearlyeverydaytogether…itallsuddenlyholdssomuchimplication,and…couldthisbeit?!Couldhemean—
Hechuckles,afamiliarplayfulnesswashingoverhimagain,andallhopefulthoughtshalt.Astheyshould.
“Lookatyourface,”hesaysthroughasoftlaugh.“Youweresoterrifiedthereforaminute.Bree,don’tworry.I’monlycelibateduringtheseasonbecauseithelpsmygame.”
Hisgame?He’scelibateforthesakeoffootball?Oh.Right.That’smorerealisticandyetanotherreasontoremindmyselfnottothinkofNathanasanythingotherthanafriend.That’sallwe’lleverbe,andthathastobeenoughforme.Ithasto!Ineedtositmysadlittleheartdownandgiveitasterntalkingto.
Ilettheairoutofmylungsinonebigrush,pretendingI’mrelievedsoIcanmaintainthestatusquo.“Oh!Ohmygosh!Yes.Thatmakesperfectsense.I’vereadstudiesaboutthattoo!Iwasworriedthereforaminutethatyoumeant…”Itfeelstoouncomfortabletosayitoutloud,alsomaybealittlepathetic.“Nevermind.Let’sjustgoinside.”
“Okay.”Hesmilesinquisitively.I’mafraidmyfaceisshowingemotionsitshouldn’t.“Areyoualright?”heasksafterhe’spurchasedaparkingticket(herefusestousethevaletbecausehesaysitonlydrawsmoreattentiontohim)andwe’rewalkingtowardtherestaurant.
“Ofcourse!Ijust—”Ineedachangeofsubject.SoIcometoastopandNathandoestoo.Iwaituntilheturnstolookatme.“Listen,Istillhatethatyouwentbehindmybackandpaidmyrent,but…completelyofftherecord…”Ismile.“Thankyouforcaringaboutmethatmuch.You’re…thebestoffriends.”
Henodsonce,notlookingashappyasIwouldhaveanticipated.“Anythingforyou,friend.”
Westareateachotherforafewbeats.
“ButIwillpayyouback,”Isay,breakingfirst.
Hegroansloudlyandwalksaway.Themomenttherestaurantdoorsopen,severalheadsturnanddoadoubletake.IfeellikeitwouldbeeasierifIjustraninfrontofNathanwithamegaphoneandyelled,Attentioneveryone!No,youreyesarenotdeceivingyou.ThistrulyisthegreatNathanDonelsonintheflesh!
Oneheadleanstowardanother.Therestaurantisagiantcocktailofwhispersandstares.Womenaresalivatingnow.We’regoingtoneedamoponaisletwo.Theyknowhim,theywanthim,andtheywilldoanythingtogethim.
IdowhatIalwaysdoinsituationslikethisandtaketwobigstepsawayfromhimsoIdon’tgetinthewayofhisbacheloravailability.ButNathangraspsmyelbowlightlyandtugsmeclosetohisside.Ilookupathimwithascowlbecausemybodyisgettingfartooexcitedaboutourproximityrightnow.Heknowsnottodothis,andyethereheis,breakinganotherruletonight.Hisfaceischiseledstoneashestaresstraightahead,ignoringmyglare.
Thehostessfinallynoticesusandrushestoherlittlepodium.HereyesrakeoverNathan’sbody,andthesheerwantdisplayedinherdilatedpupilsisuncomfortableforeveryone.Getinline,lady.Isightheninwardlygrowlasmyjealousyrisesupandtellsmetopickapartthiswoman’slookstofindaflawthatwillmakemefeelbetteraboutmyself.Notcool,Bree.IfNathanwantsthisbeautifulwoman,that’shisprerogative.
“Mr.Donelson,youcanfollowme.Yourpartyisrightthisway.”ButmaybeIcanbealittleannoyedthatshe’spracticallypurring?
Henodsandgivesherthatpolitesmilethatmakeswomendroplikeflies.Butthenhepresseshishandtomylowbackandpullsmewithhim.It’sapossessivetouchthatheneveruses.Myskinboils,butItellittoslowitselftoasimmerbecauseitdoesn’tmeananything.Basedonthepacehe’smovingat,hishandisonlypressingintomelikethisbecausehe’stryingtogetmetomovefastertogetusawayfromallthesepryingeyesandnot-so-subtlewhispers.Maybeweshouldhavecalledaheadandcomeinthebackentrance?
InearlytripovermytennisshoesasItrytokeeppacewithhim.Also,tennisshoes?!
“Nathan!”Ihissaswewalknotsodiscreetlythroughtheupscalerestaurant—I’massumingthishostesswastoldtoparadeNathanthroughthebellyofthebeastsoeveryoneknowshewashere—towardahallwaythatleadstoaVIPlounge.“Whydidyouhavetokidnapmedressedlikethis?Youshouldhavetoldmetochange!Ithoughtweweregoingtoaburgerplaceorsomething.”Which,Inowrealize,wasasillythought.TheSharksareofficiallyintheplayoffs,andNathanandJamal’scelebritystatushasskyrocketed.Theyhavetobecarefulwheretheygorightnow,andI’massumingmostburgerplaceswouldn’thaveaVIPloungetogivethemprivacy.
Nathan’sbrowsdipandhescanshiseyesovermeaswewalk.Hetakesinmyyellowscrunchie,F.R.I.E.N.D.S.logot-shirt,scuffed-upsneakers,andankle-croppedjeans.Hesmiles.“Youlookgreatasalways.”
“No,Idon’t,”Isay,accidentallybumpingintothebackofhisbicepwhenIlookbehindmeatthewomenintinydressesliningthebarwejustpassed.“Ilooklikeyourteenagedlittlesisterwhoyoujustpickedupfromschool.”
HishandpressesfirmerintomybacksoIdon’ttripagain.“Idon’tthinkyou’regettingglaresfromthosewomenbecausetheyassumeyou’remylittlesister.”
Iwouldrefutethatcomment,butinthenextmomentwearesweptinsidethelounge.We’retheonlyonesbackhere,soI’massumingalltheothercelebritiesdecidedtohavetheirchefscookforthemathometonight.
Avelvetropegetsclaspedbehindus.We’reledtoaprivatelittlenookwithdrapeshangingarounditforaddedprivacy.Goodthing,too,becauseasmallcrowdwasbeginningtoformbehindus,poisedtoreceiveautographsandphotosthemomentNathansitsdown.
“Hereyouare,”saysthewomanI’mdefinitelynotlettingmyselfbejealousof.Shegivesaprettylittlewinkandwalksoff,cutehipsswaying.It’snotuntilIturnbacktoNathanandseehimstaringatmeandholdingbackasmilethatIrealizeIwasshootinglaserbeamsatthehostessthewholetime.
“Iflookscouldkill,”hesays,givingintohisquietgrin.
Iopenmymouthtodefendmyself,butwegetinterrupted.
“BreeCheese!”saysJamalMericks,emergingfromthedrapednookwearinganincrediblesuit.IgettuggedawayfromNathanandwrappedupinanenormous,expensive-cologne-filledhug.“Quithoggingher,man.It’smybirthday.”
“Yeah,Nathan,quitbeingsostingy,”IsaysarcasticallywhilediggingaroundinmypursetofindJamal’spresent
Herubshishandstogether,andthegoldwatchonhiswristtwinkles.“OoooamIgettingaBreenket?!PleasesayIam.It’sbeentoolongsinceyougavemethatcatfigurine.”ItwasinhonorofthetimeJamalandIwenttoacatcafetogethertoovercomehisfearoffelines.Unfortunately,thescratchhegotfromthatparticularlycrabbytabbygotsuperinfected,andnowhewon’tevengointhesameroomasacat.Anyway,Igothimthecatfigurinesohecanhaveonekittythatwillneverscratchhim.
“Closeyoureyesandholdoutyourhands.”
Hegrimaces,lookingatNathan.“Shedoesn’thavearealcatstuffedinthatbag,doesshe?”
“Wouldn’ttellyouifshedid,”saysNathan,earningtenbrowniepointsfromme.
Jamalsighs,shutshiseyes,andcupshishandsinfrontofhim.“Trustingyouwithmylife.”
Sohere’sthestory:Jamallikestomakesurehelooksgoodatalltimes,soheslipsofftolookinthebathroommirroralotwhenwe’reoutatabar.Lasttime,whilehewasgoneaskingthemirrorwhowasthefairestofthemall,hemissedaNicoleKidmansighting.NicoleisJamal’slifelongcrush,andhewasdevastatedtolearnhe’dmissedhischanceatseeingherinperson.(It’simportanttonotethatthiswastheoffseasonandwewereallseveraldrinksin,andalsothatNicoleKidman’sfriendcalledherSally.)
IplaceacompactmirrorinJamal’shands.“SoyouneverhavetomissNicoleagain!”
Hesquintsaneyeopenandlaughs,openingthelittleblackcircularmirrortopeerathimself.“TheperfectBreenket.Nathan,Ihopeyoudon’tmind,butI’mofficiallystealingBreeasmybestfriend.”HeslipsitintohispocketandwrapsanarmaroundmyshoulderatthesametimethatIputminearoundhiswaist.JamalturnsmeawayfromNathanbeforeIcangetalookathisexpression.Idon’tknowwhyIwanttoseeit.It’snotlikehe’dbejealous.
ButIdohearNathanmumble,“Overmydeadbody.”Sothat’ssortofgratifying.
Hepartsthedrapes,andallofmyfavoriteguysintheworldarealreadyseatedaroundagianttable.I’monceagainstruckbyhowwilditisthatmybestfriendisthequarterbackoftheSharks.TheseareNathan’steammates,someofthesweetestmenI’veevermet.
JamalMericksisthestartingrunningback,DerekPenderplaystightend,JayonPrice(wejustcallhimPrice)playswidereceiver,andLawrenceHillplayslefttackle.Thesemencouldallsquashmebetweentheirthumbandforefinger,buttheyareallsoftieswhohonest-to-goodnesstreatmeliketheirqueen.TheywouldcarrymearoundonachairliftedabovetheirshouldersifIletthem.Ihavenoideawhy—probablybecauseI’mthatgirlwhodoesn’thaveanounceofthreatinmyfive-foot-fourbody.Totheseguys(Nathanincluded),I’mjustBreeCheese,thefun-loving,curly-hairedgirleveryoneloveswiththedancestudioabovethepizzaparlor.
“Bree!”Alltheguyscheerwhentheyseeme,andIgivethemafunnylittlecurtsy.NextthingIknow,theserowdyboyshaveallliftedandshiftedmearoundthetabletowhereI’msandwichedinthemiddleofeveryone.Ilooklikeababysittingbetweenfourbouncers.Thisisalwayshowitgoes.They’realwaysveryrespectful,buttheydoliketomovemearoundlikeI’mahotpotato.
“Noladiestonight?”Iaskwithachuckleaseveryonetakesaturnkissingmycheekandthenploppingaroundofshotsdowninfrontofme.Jamal’sarmgoesbehindmeonthebench,andIcan’thelpbutnoticeNathan’squietgrinashewatchesfromacrossthetable.
“Nah—noonecancomparetoyou.It’sjustustonight,”saysJamalwithasmilenearlyasdevastatingasNathan’s.Suchflirts.“Also,Dadwon’tletushavemorethanonedrinkbecauseoftheplayoffs.Yougoodtopartyenoughforallofus?”
TheteamreferstoNathanasDadbecausehe’salwaystherespectablestickinthemud.It’snotbecauseNathandoesn’tliketohavefun,though.Hecanpartywiththebestofthemintheoffseason,butintheregularseason,Nathanputshiscareerfirst.Hewilldoeverythinghecantowin.
Lawrencepicksupashotandhandsittomewithamischievousglintinhiseyesbeforehepicksuphisown.Ieyeitlikeit’sasnake,becauseanyonewhoknowsmeknowsI’malightweight.Theguyscandownoneoftheseandneverfeelathing.I,ontheotherhand,amajumponthetableandkaraokeAdeleintomyforkwithanapkinonmyheadafteronlyafewdrinkskindofgirl.That’sacompletelyhypotheticalsituation,ofcourse.Didn’treallyhappenafewmonthsagooranything…
Derekreachesoverandplucksashotforhimself.“It’sbeentoolongsinceI’veheardmyfavoritesong.”
PriceandLawrencetilttheirforeheadstogetherandsingintoasingleshotglass.“Hello,it’sBree…”
Yep.Theychangethelyricsandpestermewithitasoftenaspossible.SoyoucanseehowthingsgosouthformerealquickifI’mnotcareful.SinceIhaven’thadanythingtoeattodaysincelunchandfeelslightlyunhingedafteralltherecentrevelationsfromNathan,Ineedtobeextracarefulwiththeseinnocent-lookingbeverages.IeyetheshotthenlookbackupatNathan.WhataretheoddsI’lltellhimIwanttohavehisbabiesifIdrinkmorethanoneofthesetonight?Usually,I’mprettygoodatkeepingmylipssealed.Well,karaokesongsaside.
NathanandImakeeyecontactacrossthetable,andIexpecttoseeanoteofwarningtobecarefulinthem(becausehewastheonewhohadtoscoopmeoffthetableandcarrymehomeaftermyfabulousAdeleperformance),buthissmilewidensandhenodstowardtheshot.
“Goforit.I’llwatchoutforyoutonightandgetyouhomesafe.”Heholdsuphishandandcloseshisthumboverhispinky,leavingthecorrectthreefingersstickingup.“Scout’shonor.”
Afamiliarswirlingsensationtiptoesaroundmystomach.Hewillkeepmesafe.Healwaysdoes.Iaddthatqualitytomylistofnecessitiesformyfutureman:cantrusthimwithmylife.
Itossbacktheshotandletitburnmythroatasthetableburstsintoshoutsandcheers.“Justgocheckonhersoyou’llquitobsessing,”Jamalsays,pullingmyattentionbacktothetablewhereIimmediatelystoptappingmyfinger.We’vebeenherealmostthreehoursnow,andusuallytheguyswouldhaverunupanalcoholbillthatcouldeasilypayforanewcar,butnottonight.We’reallonstrictdietstokeepusintopshape,whichmeanslittletonoalcohol,leanproteins,andlotsofvegetables.We’renotmessingaround.
Well,allofusexceptBree.She’sbeenknocking’embacklikeatoddlerwithajuiceboxproblem.Iusuallywouldn’tmind,buttonightit’smakingmefeelguilty,becauseIthinkI’mthereasonshe’sdrinkingsomuch.WhenshefoundoutI’vebeenpayingherrentandthenontopofthatfoundoutI’mcelibate,IthinkIbasicallyflippedherlifeupsidedownandshookallthechangeout.Ididn’tmeantotellherI’mcelibate,butIsortofhadnochoicewhenKelsey’sarticlewasspreadinglies.ThehonesttruthisI’mcelibatebychoice.Idon’tknow,onedayIjustwokeupandrealizedIwasdonetryingtotrickmyselfintothinkingIwantedanyoneotherthanBree.Ifit’snotwithher,Idon’twantit.
Geez.NowI’mrealizinghowabsurdthatsounds.Jamalisright—I’vegottodosomethingaboutthisfriendshiporI’mgoingtodiealonely,pining,sexuallyfrustratedman.Ican’tkeepgoinglikethisforever,butIfeelstuck.AndthelookonBree’sfacewhenIhintedthatshemightbethereasonformycelibacy…I’dratherbepunchedinthestomachthanseeitagain.
“I’mnotobsessing.I’mjust…”
“Obsessing,”therestofthetablestatesobnoxiouslyinunison.
Ismirkandshakemyhead,lookingdownatmyphonetoseeifBreehassentmeanyrescuetexts.Nonefromher,butIhavetwomissedcallsfrommyagentfollowedbyfivetextsupdatingmyschedulefortheweekandaddingmoremeetingstoanalreadypackedagenda.There’salsoawholeslewofmessagesfrommymomwithherownnotesabouthowIcouldhaveplayedbetterinmylastgame.
Mom:IwasjustwatchingthehighlightsfromMondaynight’sgame,andyouwerelookingalittlesluggish.
Mom:IthinkyoushouldfireyournutritionistandgowiththewomanIfoundforyou.
Mom:Andyou’reholdingontotheballtoolong.
Cool,nowshe’smyoffensivecoach.
Me:I’moutwithfriendsrightnow.I’llcatchupwithyoutomorrow.
Mom:You’restilloutrightnow?It’slate.Thisisnotgoingtohelpyouplaybetter.Youneedto—
Istopreadingthereandpocketmyphone.ShelivesinMalibunow,butsomehowherexpectationsstillreachmeinLongBeach.They’renothingnewthough.She’sbeenpushingmetoplaymybestgamesincepeeweefootball.IknowIshouldn’tcomplaintoomuchbecauseshehelpedgetmetowhereIam,butitwearsonme.Mostlybecauseshedoesaccuratelypointoutmyweakspots.ItmakesmefeellikeIshouldbeupearliertomorrowtowatchthetapesandseeifIamholdingontotheballtoolong
IpullmythoughtsbacktoBree.“Youguysknowhowshegetswhenshe’sbeendrinking.”
Jamallaughs.“Yeah.Shegetscuteandtalkative.You’retheunbearableone.”
“WhenIdrink?”
“No.Whenshedrinks.Youhoveraroundherlikeabodyguardandjustscowlateveryonewholooksather.Sogoon.”He’spushingmeoutoftheboothwiththetoeofhisshinydressshoe.“Gocheckonyourwomanbeforeyoubringthiswholepartydown.We’realreadyobnoxiouslysoberbecauseofyou.Don’tmakeusallstartbitingourfingernailstoo.”
“Agreed.Gofindher,”saysPrice.
Lawrenceshrugs.“Ithinkit’skindanicehowhe’salwayslookingoutforher.”
JamalpointsatLawrence.“Don’tencouragehim.”
Ishakemyheadandleavethelounge.ThankfullythebarisreallydarkandtheVIPareaistuckedbackawayfromthemainspace,soI’mnotimmediatelyfacedwithfanswantinganautograph.Islipdownthehallwayandstopjustoutsidethewomen’sbathroom.Iknockandopenthedooracracktoyellinside.“BreeCheese,yougoodinthere?”
Ihearadrunkengiggleimmediatelyandrelax.“That’sme!Breecheesycheese,”shesays,probablytonooneinparticularinthere.
Butthenasecondlater,thedooropensfullyandatall,dark-hairedwomanappears.She’sdressedprofessionallyandwearingasmilethathasabitetoit.Iworryforasecondthatshe’sgoingtobeanobsessivefanandgethandsyinthehallway(it’shappenedseveraltimes),butthensheopensthedoortothebathroomwiderandhitchesherthumboverhershoulder.“Ithinkyourfriendhereneedsalittlehelp.”
“Issheokay?”I’malreadypushingmywayin.
Thewomanfollowscloselybehindmetowardtheclosedstall.“Yeah…ifyouconsiderincrediblydrunkokay.Shewastalkingmyearoffwhiletryingtogetthatbeerstainoutofhershirt,andthenallofasuddenshewentwhiteasasheetandfledtothestall.”
Myhearttugs.Breecan’thandleherliquor.Ishouldhavemadesuresheeasedupearlier.Iforce-fedheraplateoffries(Isayforcebecauseherattentionspanisthesizeofagnatwhenshe’sdrunkandIhadtocontinuouslyremindhertotakebites),butI’mnotsureitwasenoughtosoakupeverythingshedranktonight.
Igettotheclosedstallandrapmyknuckleagainstthedoortwice.“Bree?Youokay?CanIcomein?”
“NATHAN?!Hiiiii.”Hervoiceisbreathybuthappy.AtleastIknowshe’snotpassedoutinthereorthrowingup.
“Yeah,it’sme.CanIopenthedoor?”
I’mawareofthewomanstillhoveringbehindme.Iwanttoaskhertogoaway.Shedoesn’tneedtobewitnessingthis,butthat’sthethingaboutfans—theydon’tbelieveingivingcelebritiesprivacy.Theyseemtobeundertheimpressionthatwe“signedupforthis”andourprivatelivesshouldbeanopen,all-you-can-eatentertainmentbuffet.ButBreedidn’t“signup”forthisandIknowshedoesn’twantanythingtodowiththespotlight,soI’mveryprotectiveofherinpublicsituations.I’llbeherbodyguardanyday.
“Sure,QB!Micasaissucasa.”Breeisthefriendliestdrunkyou’llevermeet.Ifatallpossible,shegetsmoreadorablewitheveryshotshetakes.Ihavetobecarefulwithher,though,becauseonetimesheliterallytriedtogivethekeysofherapartmenttoamanexperiencinghomelessnessandtoldhimheshouldhaveitinsteadofher.She’sgeneroustoafault—whichisironicconsideringthat’swhatshesaysaboutme.
“Canyouslidethelockopen?”Iaskhersoftly.
“OH!”Shechucklesloudly,andIglanceovermyshoulderagain.Brunetteisstillthere,smilingtenselywithawickedgleaminhereyesthatIdon’ttrust.Iadjustmybody,tryingtoformaprivacywallwithmyback.
“Oops.That’stheflusher.HeyNathhaannn…wheredoIfindthelockeything?It’stoodarktoseeanythinginhere.”Ohgeez.She’ssofargone.
“Openyoureyes,Bree.”Itapthedoor.“Thelockisoverhere.”
Shegaspsloudly—probablywhensherealizeshereyeswereshut.“You’reright!Thereitis!Ohwow,that’saspinnyroom.”Iheartheclickofthelockandgetreadytoopenthedoorthenrememberthewomanbehindmeagain.
IlookbackatherwithwhatI’mhopinglookslikeasoftsmile.Ihavetobeverycarefulwhendealingwithanyoneinpublicnottodoanythingthatcouldbemisconstruedasaggressiveorangry—basicallyanythingthatcouldgoviralonTwitterandreflectbadlyonmycareer.Gossipisonething,butastoryaboutmeyellingatafanisanother.
“Sorry,doyoumind?”Iask,hopingshecanreadbetweenthelinesthatI’mpolitelyaskinghertogetlost.
Shesmileswiderandshakesherhead.“No,notatall.Gorightahead.”
NotwhatImeant.
It’sfine.I’lljustneedtoscoopBreeupandgetherhome.Well,tomyhome.NowayamIsendinghertoherplacelikethis.Idon’ttrusthernottogetupandgoforacityadventureinthemiddleofthenight.
IopenthedoorofthestalltofindBreesittingonthetoilet—thankfullywithherpantsonorshewouldbemortifiedtomorrow—slumpedoveragainstthestallwall.Herkneesarepressedtogetherbutherfeetarewide,armsdanglingathersides,alineofcolorfulwovenbraceletsdroopingdownherwrists.Shelookslikeakidwhotriedtostayup
Isquatdowninfrontofher,takingoneofherhands.“Hiprettyfriend,howareyoufeeling?”
Shesmileswithhereyesclosedagain.“SOgood.AndmynewfriendCherylisrealllllllynice.Didyoumeether?”
Ilookbackatthewoman,andshegivesawrysmile.“It’sKaraactually.”
IturnbacktoBree.“Yeah,Idid.Karatoldmetocheckonyou.”
“Good.”Hereyesflyopen.“Anddon’tworry.Shewasreallyconcernedaboutyourproblem”—hereyeswidenandsinkdowntothevicinityofmycrotchthenshiftbackuptomyeyes—“butIsetherstraightandtoldhernottobelievethatlying,shamingwitch.”Shetriestobopmeonthenosebuttapsmycheekboneinstead.“Erfffectyledips—”Shepausesandfrowns.“Dips—”Shetriestogetthewordouttwomoretimesthengivesup.“Yourding-a-lingisnobody’sconcern!”
Okayyyy,yep,timetogo.
“Well,myding-a-lingandIthankyouforthat.Whatdoyousaywegohomenow?”
Shepouts.“Whaaatttt.Butit’saparty!”Hereyesbelongtoapuppy,andthesideofherfaceisplasteredtothestallwall.It’sgoingtoleaveatexturedprintbehind.
“Ithinktheguysareallpartiedout.It’stimeforsomesleepbecausewehavepracticeinthemorning.”IstandupandextendmyhandtoBree.“Comeon,let’sgetoutofhere.”
Shetakesmyhandandstands,swayingdramaticallyasshegoesvertical,andthenpromptlysitsbackdown.“Ashhhhually,I’llstayhere.It’stootwistyupthere,”shesayswhileswattingalazyhandthroughtheair.
“Comeon,yougotthis.”Ibenddownandhelpherup,wrappingherarmaroundmywaistandmakingherleanintome.I’djustcarryherout,butIhaveafeelingthatwouldmakeasceneandenduponthecoverofeverygossipsitetomorrow.Soinstead,Itrytoholdherupwhileweclumsilyexit.
Asweemergefromthestall,IfindusfacetofacewithKarajustasshe’sslippingherphonebackintoherpurse.Idon’thavetimetoworryaboutthatnowthough.“Thanksfor…”Spying?Eavesdropping?Stickingyournosewhereitdoesn’tbelong?“Checkinguponher.”
“Believeme,itwasmypleasure,”shesayswithaglintinhereyesthatgivesmeaweirdfeeling.Sortoflikewhenyou’rewatchingamovieandsuddenlythecamerazoomsinwiththeslow,dramaticmusicandyouthink,Ohdamn!Thatperson’sbad!Inevitablysomeonealwaystriestoclaimtheyknewitallalong.Youknewnothing,Sandra.
Karaturnsandopensthedoorforustowalkthrough.Onceoutofthebathroom,IheadtotheVIPlounge,andthankfullyKaracan’tfollowus.
Breelaysherheadonmychestaswewalkandbreathesdeep.“Yousmellsooooogood.Evenyoursweatsmellsgood.Howdoyoudothat?”
Ismiledownather,wishingsheactuallymeantthatcompliment.“You’redrunk.That’show.”
TheguyshelpmegetBreeoutsideandawayfrompryingeyesbycreatingabarrieraroundusaswewalk.Jamalpuffsuplikeapeacock,winkingandflirtingwitheveryonehepasses.It’stheperfectdistractionfromthedroopyBreehangingoffmyside.
Intheparkinglot,I’mgettingreadytopourherintomytruckwhenshewhipsaroundtotheguyswithasuddenalertness.It’shersecondwind,andIknowwhat’scoming.Ithappenseverytime,butusuallyI’mtheonlyonearoundtowitnessit.“YouguysarecomingbacktoNathan’splace,right?!Ihavesomethingsoooofunwecando!”
Igivetheguysalookthatsays,Sayno.ButofcoursetheyalwaysgiveBreeeverythingshewantsbecauseshe’simpossibletosaynoto,andtheyallagreewithgusto.
Andthat’showmyrunningback,widereceiver,tightend,andlefttackleallwindupatmyplace,gettingourtoenailspaintedintheteam’scolorsbyBree.We’realllineduponthecouchandarmchairs,pantsrolledupwhileBreehoversovereachofourfeetinassembly-linefashion,paintingournailswiththesamemeticulousattentionsomeonewouldusewhiledisarmingabomb.Iimagineit’sbecausefocusingontoesisdifficultwhentheroomisspinning.Breeisnothingbutjoyandsmilesthewholetimethough,tellingusthiswillgiveusextragoodluckandmakingeachofuspinkypromisenottotakeitoffbeforethenextgame.
Whenshecomesovertolockourpinkiestogether,sheleansovermethenaccidentallytopplesintomylap.Mystomachdipswithherfacesoclosetomine.Hereyeslookintentlyintomine.I’veneverhadherinmylapbefore,andIcan’tbelievehowrightitfeels.Everyinchofmetingleswithawareness,andIbeginmentallymappingouteverywayTorture.
Suddenly,alleyesintheroomareonus,andIclearmythroat.“Timetoputyoutobed,Ithink.”
Bree’seyesarehazy,andinsteadofputtingupafightaboutmemakinghersleephere,shecurlsupagainstmychest,puttingherheadinthecrookofmyneck.“Can’twalk.Tootired,”sheadmits.
Istandwithherinmyarmsandtakeherbacktoherroomtothequietsnickersandchucklesoftheguysaroundmeliketheyareinjuniorhigh.
“Lovesickpuppy,”JamalsaysasIpassbyhim,andIfliphimthebirdfrombehindBree’sback,hopingshedidn’thearhiscomment,oratleastwon’trememberittomorrow.
AfterIgetherinbed,Idon’tletmyselflinger.Ituckherin,turnoffthelights,andshutthedoorbehindme,notlettingmyselfhaveonebackwardglance.Theonlywayourfriendshiphasbeenremotelysuccessfulinitsplatonicstateisbecauseofmyacquiredabilitytokeepmoving.Forinstance,ifIwalkintothekitchenandseeBreeleaningoverthecounterwithherbuttlookingwaytoogood,Idon’tlingerandlook.Keepmoving.IfIwalkbyBreeandweaccidentallybumpintoeachother,Idon’tstopandlockmyarmsaroundher.Nope.Keepmoving.Ifwe’reuplateatnightandI’mtemptedtotellherIworshipthegroundshewalkson—keepmoving.
SoIdon’tlookbacktonightatthesightofherpassedoutagainstthepillowwithherwildhairswirlingaroundher.Ikeepmovingbackintothelivingroomandstraightintothesightofmyfriends,lineduponthecouch,browsliftedandarmsfolded.Itlookslikeanintervention.
“What’swiththemomvibes?”Iask,frozenatthethreshold.I’mnotsureIwanttogointhere.
Lawrenceisthefirsttospeak.It’shardtotakehimseriouslywithhissilverandblacksparklenailpolish.“It’stime,man.”
Myeyebrowsrise.“That’scrypticandominous.”
JamalsmacksLawrenceinthechest.“Thisiswhywedidn’twantyoutobetheonetodelivertheopeningline.”Heshakeshishead.“Hewassupposedtosay,It’stimetogetyourgirl.Hesaiditallwrong.Itwasgoingtobegreat.”
Itrytohidemygrin.“Doyouwantmetogooutandcomebackin?Wecanstartover.”
“Nah,moment’sover,”Jamalpouts.Hehateswhensomeoneruinshisspecialmoments.Andtherearemany.
I’malreadyturningaround.“No,it’snot.Comeon,I’llrunitagain.Let’sdoit.”Ileavetheroom,comingbackinamomentlaterlikesomeonetryingtopretendtheydon’tknowaboutthesurprisepartytheyaccidentallylearnedaboutthreeweeksago.
Lawrenceisonhisgamethistime.“It’stimetogetyourgirl,man.”
AlittlebitofthesparkhasleftJamal’seye,butit’sclearthere’sapartofhimthatstillwantstoplaythisout.“Andwe’regonnahelpyoudoit,”hefinallyaddsinhiscommercialvoice.Honestly,theimpressionwasmade
Ipuffoutabreath.“Thatwasworthit,guys.Welldone.Ihavechillbumps.”Iappreciatewhatthey’retryingtodo,Ireallydo,butit’snotgonnahappen.“Theproblemis,Bree’snotintomelikethat.”
Theyallcollectivelyshootoutalaugh.Priceistheonetospeakupfirstwhiledabbinghisbigtoetomakesurethepolishisdrybeforeputtinghissockbackon.“Yeah.Womenalwayscurluptomelikeababycubwhenthey’renotintome.Whateverman.Getyourheadoutofyourass.Thatwomanisinlovewithyou.”
IglancebacktowardBree’sroom.Iwanttobelievethem,butit’stoohard.We’vehadsomanyyearstoovercomethefriendzone,andshe’sneverdoneanythingaboutit.AnytimeIgetclose,sheputsupanextrafirmforcefieldthatpushesmeback.“I’mtellingyou—shedoesn’twantanythingmorethanfriendship.”
“Ormaybeshe’sjustscared,”saysJamal,standingfromthecouchandrollinghispantlegsdown.
“Scaredofwhat?”
“Makingthefirstmoveanditnotbeingreciprocated.Y’allarestuckinavortexoffearandmiscommunication.Someonehastobreakthroughitfirst.”
Iknowhe’srightonmypart.I’mterrifiedtoloseheragain.IgotatasteofitallthoseyearsagowhenIwentofftocollegeandshedroppedoutofmylife,andIneverwantarepeat.Butisthesamethinghappeningonherend?Idon’thaveenoughproofofthatyet.“Idon’tknowhowtofigurethatoutwithoutstraight-upaskingher.It’stoomuchofarisk.Idon’twanttoloseher,becauseshe’sseriouslythebestfriendI’veeverhad.”
Jamalslideshisjacketon.“First,ouch.Andsecond,youjustneedanopportunitytotestthewaterswithouttherebeingrepercussions.”
I’mallearsnow.“HowdoIdothat?”
Helaughsandslapsmyshoulderashepassestowardthedoor.“Idon’tknow,man.Wecan’tdoalltheworkforyou.”
“Idon’tthinkyou’vedoneanyworksofar,”ItellJamal,andhewavesdoublebirdsoverhisshoulders.“We’llhaveawhiteboardplanningsessionsoon.”
Pricepassesbynext.“Sorry,I’mtoosobertocomeupwithgoodideastonight.”
“Alittleconcerningtohear,”Itellhim.
Lawrencestopsinfrontofmenext.“Isayjustgoforit.Trueloveonlycomesonceinalifetime—don’tletitpassyouby.”Weallblinkatourmostaggressivelefttackle.Turnsoutheissurprisinglyromanticforamanwhooperateslikeatank.
DerekisthelasttostepupandofferhissageadviceonwhatIshoulddowithBreetogetmyselfoutofthefriendzone.Butit’snotromanticorsweet,soIwon’trepeatit.AlthoughIwilltuckitawayforarainyday.
AllnightI’mlyingawakethinkingaboutwhatmyfriendssaid.Partofmethinksthey’velostitandshouldbetellingmetogetoverherinsteadofconsideringstartingsomethingup.ButanotherpartofmeisleftwonderingwhatIcandototestthewaters.AndalsomaybefantasizingalittletoomuchaboutwhatDereksaid…Ohno.
Ithinksomeonehasmistakenmyheadforacityroadthatneedsrepairingandistakingajackhammertoit.Cursetheguysforlettingmedrinksomuchlastnight!Imusthavebeenreallyfargonebecausewithoutevenopeningmyeyes,IknowI’minNathan’sapartment.Everythingsmellslikehim,andonlyinNathan’sguestbedarethesheetsthissoft.Ihadtohavebeenout-of-my-minddrunkifhedidn’tevenletmegohome.Howembarrassing.
Memoriesfloatthroughmyhead,andIgivethemattentionwithhesitation.PartofmeisnotsureIwanttoremember.WhatifItookmytopoff?No.Nathanwouldabsolutelyneverletmedothat.Butweallknowbynowthatserenadinganyonewhowilllistenisnotoutoftherealmofpossibility.
Thankfully,Idon’thaveanymemoriesofeitherofthoseevents.Ido,however,haveahazyrecollectionofspillingadrinkonmyshirtandrunningofftothebathroomtogetitout.IthinkIremembertalkingsomepoorlady’searoff,andthen…ohyeah,Nathancameinandrescuedme.He’salwaysdoingthat.Thatprobablyaddstohisreasonsfornotbeingattractedtome—hewantsagirlwhodoesn’tridethehotmessexpressontheregular.
Ikickoffthecovers,muchtothedismayofmyscreaminghead,andlookdown:fullyclothedinmyoutfitfromlastnightandoddlydisappointedbythat.Inthemovieswhenthebestfriendgetsdrunkandtheherogetsherhomesafely,healsohelpsherchangeintooneofhisoversizedt-shirts(lookingawaythewholetimewithepicchivalry,ofcourse)andshewakesupswaddledinhisscent.Ijustsmelllikebeer.Andnailpolish?
Notimetoliehereandwallow.Iforcemyselftositupandreachformyphone.ThesunisoutsoIknowNathanisalreadygone.Hehastokeeparidiculousschedulefortheteamandisusuallyatthetrainingfacilitybysixthirtyorseveneverymorning.I’mgratefulforitthismorning,becauseIdon’tthinkIcouldfacehimaftertellinghimhesmellssoooogood.Mmhm,Irememberthatpart,andIregretitdeeply.(Althoughitistrue.)
Swipingopenmyphone,Iseethatit’seightAM,andholymolyIhave32emails?!Isthatreal?Ialsonoticethatmysisterhastriedtocallmeseveraltimesandtextedmeamillionmore.That’snotnormal,andafeelingofforebodingcreepsoverme.
Iscrolldownmycontactlistandpresscallnexttohername.
Itringsafewtimes,butI’mnotworriedshe’llbeasleep.One,becauseshecalledmeenoughtimestomakemycellphoneproviderwanttogiveupandassumeanewidentity.Two,becauseLilyhasthreekidsundertheageofsixsomypoorbigsisterisalwaysupwiththesun.Someonegivethatwomananaward.
“Hibabe!”shesaysinaloudsunshinyvoicethatramsintomyskull.“NO,JOHNNY,PUTTHATKNIFEDOWN!”
Iwhimperandpullthephoneawayfrommyear.UghhhhhismyonlyresponsetoJohnny’sknifewielding.
“Uh-oh,areyouokay?”saysLily.“Hangon,I’ll—DOUG,WATCHTHEKIDS,I’MGOINGOUTSIDETOTALKTOB!”
Ihisslikeanangrycat,andshejustlaughs.Ihearshufflingandimagineherpullingonherpuffypinkrobebeforeopeningthefrontdoortogositonthefrontstoopofheradorablecookie-cuttersuburbanhome.It’swhiteandhasblackshuttersandarosegardeninthefront.IfIlookoutmyapartmentwindow,Iseeaconveniencestorewithbarsonthewindows,someprettyhorrificgraffiticakedonthewalls,andatumbleweedoftrashrollingdownthesidewalk.LAiswildlikethat,becauseinamatteroffiveblockstowardNathan’sapartmentonthebeach,yougofrommydehydrated-yellowapartmentbuildingwithstickyfloorstohisthree-million-dollarapartmentwithvaletparkingandperfectlymanicuredshrubbery.
Soyeah,mysisterandIarepolaropposites.WhereIhavewildcurlyhair,shehasstraight,gorgeous,blondelocksthatalwayslooklikeshejustleftthesalon.WhereIwasoutdrunkwithabunchoffootballplayerslastnightandtuckedinbymybestfriend,shewasprobablyrockingandsingingoneofmynephewstosleepbeforegoingdownstairstositonthecouchwithDoug—herhusbandandtheloveofherlife—toeaticecreamandwatchTV.I’msureherubbedherfeet.
SometimesI’mtemptedtobejealousofher,butalargerpartofmealsoknowsI’dneverfeelhappyinherlife.IlovewhereI’mat.Ialsolovethatifyougolookatthatgraffitiwallontheconveniencestore,you’llfindmynamespelledoutinareallycoolfont,becauseIwatchedtheguywhilehesprayedtheoriginalartonthewallandtoldhimitwasawesome.Headdedmynameasatattooonthedragonthat’smaulingthehuman.Reallysweetstuff.
Idon’twantLily’slife;ImostlyjustwantsomeonetolovemelikeDouglovesher.That’sthepartI’mreallyjealousof.
“Doessomeonehaveahangover?”sheasksgentlywithasmileinhervoice.
“Yes,”Isayonagroan.“ItwasJamal’sbirthdaylastnightandNathanwouldn’tlettheguyshavemorethanonedrink—solet’sjustsayIdidallthedrinkingforeveryone.”
Mysisterlaughs,andthesoundissosweettomyears.IwishIwassittingwithherandcouldlaymyheadonherpuffy-pink-robedshoulder.“PoorB.Thatexplainsthevideothough.”
Isitupwithajolt,andmybrainknocksagainstmyskull.“Whatvideo?DidNathansendyouanembarrassingvideoofme?Iswear,Iwill—”
“Calmdown,drunky.Doyoureallynotknowyet?”
“Knowwhat?”IfranticallystartlookingaroundtheroomlikeI’llfindsomesortofstartlinganswer.Animageofmeontopofatablepaintedonthewalls.Asoundbiteofmylatestserenadeplayingthroughtheoverheadspeakers.Nothing.Justtheimmaculateguestroomandsprawlingwindowsthatoverlookthelazyocean.
“Ohgosh.Okay,Iwantyoutotakeadeepbreath.”
“Lily,justspititout!”IstandandignorethechurningofmystomachasIbarrelintothekitchen,hopingtofindanyothercluesthatwillpointtomyepicfail.There’snothingbutanappleandanoteinNathan’shandwritingthatsays,Medicine.Drink.Eat.I’llcheckinwithyouonbreak.Anddon’tworry,youdidn’tsinganyAdelelastnight.Ismiletomyself,feelingatleastalittlerelieved.
Thatis,untilmysistermakesmystomachfalltomyfeet.“Atsomepointlastnight,yousortofspilledyourgutstoareporterinabathroom.”
“NO,”Isayonalongexhale,sinkingmyforearmsdowntothecounter.“WhatdoyoumeanIspilledmyguts?”
“Ithinkmaybeyoushouldjustwatchthevideo.”
Iwhimper.“WheredoIfindit?”
Hersharplaughdoublesmyworry.“Wherecanyounotfinditistherealquestion.It’sviral,B.AlloverInstagramandTwitter.Butthegoodnewsis,everyonelovesyouandthinksyou’readorable.You’veevenstartedahashtag!”ShesaysitlikeIstartedaworld-renownedcharity.
“Ohmygosh,itbetternotincludethewordboobs.”
“No,butIthinkafteryouwatchthevideo,you’llwishyouhadflashedsomeone.”
Ihaven’tevenseenityetandI’malreadycontemplatingpossiblerelocation.Howdoesoneenterawitnessprotectionprogram?MaybeIcanjustmoveabroad?Spain?I’vealwayswantedtogothere.I’llhavetolearnSpanish,andthatcouldbeaproblem.DAMNMYYOUNGERSELFCHOOSINGFRENCHINSTEADOFSPANISH.Oh,wait,problemsolved—I’llgotoFrance.Qui,I’llhaveuneFrenchfry,please.Shoot,myFrenchisrustytoo.
“JusthangupandgotoTMZ’swebsite.Callmebackwhenyou’redone.”TMZ!Areyoukidding?!
IfeellikeIdrankanentiregallonofspoiledmilk.
Wehangup,andwithtremblinghands,Itypeinthewebaddressonmyphone.Itdoesn’ttakemuchdiggingtofindthearticle…BECAUSEIT’SSPLASHEDACROSSTHEHOMEPAGE!!
Andthenithitsme.
Ohno.Ididdosomethingterriblelastnight…andit’sstaringbackatmeinthevideounderthisverylengthyarticle.Iblabbered.ApparentlythenewfriendImetinthebar’sbathroomlastnightwasKaraHolden,gossipjournalistforTMZ.
Asmysobereyesfocusonthebleary-eyedversionofmyself,ahandreachesintomychestandgrabsmylungs.“Ohmygosh!NONONO.”
Thetitleofthearticlereads:STARQUARTERBACKNATHANDONELSONINLOVEWITHBESTFRIENDANDOFFTHEMARKET?
“Prepareyourselves,ladies.LongtimefriendofNathanDonelsonhintsthathemaybeofficiallyoffthemarketbecauseofher.LocaldanceinstructorBreeCamdenclaimssheandNathanhavebeenharboringsecretfeelingsforeachothersincehighschool.Watchmyexclusiveinterviewtohearthefullstory!”
Iswallowdownmyqueasinessthenclickplay.Everythinggetsworse.Clearly,I’mdrunkoutofmymindinthisvideoandwieldingaTide-To-Gopeninfrontofmybodylikeit’samagicalwand.
Bree:Youknow…Chherrryyll…
Kara:It’sKara.
Bree:Mmhmm.Don’tinterrupt,izzznotnice.Anyway.Ijustwantedtotellyouthatthere’snothingwrongwithNathanDonelsonandhisyou-know-what.*winksaggressively*Hismeanyexwasjusttryin’tomakehimlookbadbecausehedidn’twanttosleepwithher.
Kara:Really?Andwhydoyouthinkhedidn’twanttosleepwithher?
No,Bree.Don’tdoit.
Bree:Hesaysisssbecauseofhisgame.ButIthinkit’s’causehe’spiningaftersomeonehecan’thave.*franticallyrubbingshirtwithTidepen,lookinglikeasloppychild*
Kara:Andwhodoyouthinkthatis?
Bree:*levelingpenatKara*Wesssspendeverydaytogether.We’vebeenbestoffriendsformillionsofyears.Ithastobeme!Whoelsewoulditbe?
Kara:Wow.That’sexciting.AnddoyouhavefeelingsforNathan?
Bree:*looksthoughtfullyattheTidepen*Chhhheryl,ifIcould…I’dusezissspentowipeawayeveryotherwomanfromNathan’slife.I’dbetheonlyoneleft.*frowns*Ineedtoliedownnow.
Andthat’swhenIdisappearintothestallandshutthedoor.Thearticledoesn’tendtherethough.Thenextvideoiscaptioned,Whatdowethink,friends?Doesthislooklikeamaninlove?Myvoteisyes.Placeyourofficialvoteinthepollbelow!
ThevideoisshotfrombehindNathan,andclearlyKarawasfilmingwithouthisknowledge.MyhearttwistswhenIseehimsquatdowninfrontofmeandtakemyhand.Hespeakssotenderly,rubbinghisthumbacrossmyknuckles.AndIlook…smitten.Whatinthehell,Bree?Whydoyouhavetolooklikethat?AnyonewatchingthisvideocanseethatIpracticallyhaveglowingheartemojisinmyeyesasIstareathim.Andhe’sinlovewithme?!HA!No.Helookslikeamantakingcareofaten-year-oldwholosthermommy.ThereisnowaythatBreeisattractinganypartofNathan.
Idon’tletthevideofinishplaying.Ican’ttakeitanymore.
NathanandIaretheverybestoffriends,andwe’regoingtobeuntilweare90yearsoldorhegetsmarriedandhiswifeexcommunicatesme.Ineverwanttolosehim,andthiscrap?!It’sfriendshipending.I’vebeensocarefultonevertiptoeanywhereclosetorevealingmyfeelings,butthisabsurdarticleisoutingme!Nowhe’sgoingtogetweirdonme.
IcallLilyback.
“Youseeit?”sheasks.
“Pleaserunmeoverwithyourcar.”
“Awww,B.It’snotsobad.SowhatifNathanknowsyoulikehim?It’sabouttime,don’tyouthink?”
Iwanttopluckthehairsoutofherarmonebyoneforsayingthat!
“It’stheworst,Lily!YousayabouttimeandIsaytoomuchtimehaspassed!It’sbeensixyearssincewebecamefriendsagain.That’ssolongtosuddenlyannounceOhhey,bytheway,I’velovedyouthiswholetime!Andhehasn’tsomuchashintedatattractiontomeduringthattime.Heneverpushestheline.Hehappilydatesotherpeopleandshowsexactlyzerosignsthathewantsmeinanyothercapacitythanfriendship.So,YES,it’stheworst!”
IturnthephonetospeakermodeandsetitdownonthecountersoIcanrubmyhandsovermyface.MyhairspillsallaroundmeandIrealizethat,ontopofeverything,I’velostmyfavoriteyellowscrunchiethatIworetothebarlastnight!COMEON,UNIVERSE!
“Whatifheseesthis?No,whoamIkidding—I’msurehe’salreadyseenit.He’sgoingtothinkIhavefeelingsforhimnow!”
There’salongpauseonthelinebeforemysisterspeaksquietly.“Well…Istillthinkit’sagoodthingtohaveeverythingairedout.”
Igrowl.“Lily,you’renotunderstanding.DoyouknowwhatNathanwilldoifhefindsoutIhavefeelingsforhim?”Idon’tgiveherachancetoanswerbecauseI’mhystericalnow.“HE’LLDATEME!He’lldatemeoutofpity,andthenhe’llgetboredofpity-datingme,andwe’llhaveahorrible,awkwardbreakup,andalltheseyearsoffriendshipwillgoupinflames.”
“Butyoudon’tknowthatforsure!”
“Ido!Haveyouseenthewomenhedates?Theyaregorgeous,stunningsupermodels,andeventheycan’tholdhisattentionformorethanafewweeks.NathaniswaitingonsomeperfectwomanouttherethatIdon’tthinkexists,andhe’snotgoingtosettleuntilhefindsher.Askthepoorgirlheaccidentallystoodupafewmonthsago!”
“Andhowdoyouknowhestoodupadate?”
“BecauseIwaswithhim!Isawitallfirsthand!WewereplayingMarioandthenshecalledandwasfurious,andhedidn’tevenseemthatsorryaboutit!Idon’twanttoknowthatsideofNathan.”
Lilylightlyclearsherthroatinawaythatalmostsoundslikeshe’slaughing.“So…letmegetthisstraight.HestoodupthatgirlbecausehewashangingoutwithyouTellme,Bree,howoftendoesthishappen?”
Inarrowmyeyeseventhoughshecan’tseethem.“Iseewhatyou’redoing.Don’tturnthisintosomethingit’snot.”Ihatewhenpeopledothistome,whentheytrytoplantanideainmyheadaboutafuturewithNathan.No.Iwon’tallowit.IfthereisanythingimportantIlearnedthroughmyaccidentinhighschoolandlosingtheonlyfutureIplannedfor,it’sthateverythingworksoutbetterifIjustliveinthenowandworkwithwhatI’vegot.NosenseinrelyingonsomethingIdon’tofficiallyhaveinmyhandsatthatmoment.Lifepullstherugoutfromunderusallthetime,soifIcanjustbehappywithwhatIhaveatthisexactmoment,I’llliveahealthierlife.Rightnow,IhaveabestfriendIlovetospendtimewith.IfIstartgrowingdiscontentandhopingformorewithNathan,that’swhenI’lllosehimforgood.
“Idon’twantarelationshipwithhim,okay?Notunlessheistheonetoinitiateitbydeclaringhisundyingloveforme.Anythinglesswilljustendupasanepicfailure,becausenoone—notevenyou—wantstobeinarelationshipwhereshe’snotlovedasferventlyassheloves.”
“Okay,fiiiinnnneee.Iseeyourpoint.”
“Doyoureally?”
“No.ButIwantapresentonmybirthday,soI’lllietoyou.”
Igroanandturnmybacktoleanagainstthecounter.“Lily,whatamIgoingtodo?Also,IthinkI’mgoingtothrowup.”IeyetheappleNathanleftoutforme,andmystomachsays,Absolutelynot.
“Easy—youweredrunk.Youdon’thavetoadmitanyfeelingstohim,andeverythingcangorightbacktonormalifthat’sactuallywhatyouwant.”
“ThatiswhatIwant.”
Againshechuckles.I’llstillgetherabirthdaypresent,butit’sgoingtobeacrappyone.“Okay,sure.Well,tellhimitwasthealcohol’sfault,andthenkeepgoingwithyourboring,platonic,non-heatedfriendship.”
“Idon’tlikeyourtone.”
“Dealwithit.”
Isighandsqueezemyeyestight.“Ineedtohangupandcallhim.”
“Okay.Goodluck.Loveyou,B.Andmyguestbedroomisopenifyouneedtocomehide.”I’mjustabouttowalkintoameetingwithouroffensivelinecoacheswhenmyphonerings.I’vebeenwaitingonthiscallallmorning—eversinceIshowedupatthepracticefacilitytodayandwasambushedbydozensofreporters(mainlyofthegossipcolumnvariety)wantingmetocommentonthevideoofmybestfrienddeclaringherfeelingsforme
Mygymbagfelloffmyshoulderandhitthegroundwithathud.Ididn’tbothercheckingsocialmediathismorningbeforepractice,soIhadn’tseenthevideoandarticleyet.Ididn’tcommentonanyofthereporters’questions,butI’msuremyfacesaiditall.
Ihurriedinside,practicallysprintedtothelockerroomwhereIrippedoutmyphoneandimmediatelyfoundavideoofaverydrunkBreebrandishingaTide-To-GopenandtellingsomereporterIwassecretlypiningforher.Ialmostthrewupatthatpart.Butthen…THENshesaidshewishedshecouldwipeallotherwomenfrommylife,leavingonlyherself,andafireignitedundermyhot-air-balloonheartandliftedmerightofftheground.MymanagercalledmeshortlyafterandaskedifIwantedtomakeanofficialcomment.ItoldhimweneededtowaituntilIhadachancetotalktoBree.
Soallmorningmymindhasbeenracing.Wondering.Hoping.Couldthisbeit?Couldthisbethemomenteverythingchangesforus?BecauseI’mready.
Ilookdownatmyphoneandthenupatmyteammateswhoarefilingintotheconferenceroom.“Youguysgoahead.I’lljustbeaminute.”
Theynod,andthenI’maloneinthehallway.Itakeonesteadyingbreathbeforeanswering.“Bree,hey.”Didthatsoundnormal?
“Hi!Nathan.Yep,it’sme!Hey.”Well,myresponsewasdefinitelymorenormalthanhers.Itmeansshe’sseenthevideo.
There’snowayonGod’sgreenearthI’mgoingtobethefirstonetobringitup,soIfishalittle.“What’sup?Howareyoufeelingthismorning?”
Shegroans.“Well,IwaswonderingifyouknewofanyplacesIcouldpurchaseanewhead?Ithinkthisoneisofficiallybroken.”
Ilaughandlightlytouchthetoeofmyshoeagainstthewall.“Sorry,Ithinkyou’reoutofluck.”
Shelaughstoo,butitsoundsnervousandstilted.Andthenthere’ssilence.Iknowwhat’shappeningnow.She’salsofishing.Waiting.NeitherofuswantstobethefirsttobringupTequila-gate.Maybeweshouldjustwaitandtrytohavethisconversationinperson?
Oneofmycoachespeekshisheadoutintothehallway.“Donelson,we’regettingreadytostart.Youcoming?”
“Yes,sorry.Oneminute.”Hedoesn’tlookhappyaboutthat.
TheNFLisverydifferentfromcollege.Theydon’tbabysitushere,buttheysureashellfineusforbeinglate,benchus,ortradeusofftheteamwhentherearetoomanystrikes.Nothinglessthancompletecompetenceisexpectedwhenyouplayattheprolevel,andthatpressureisalwayspushinginonme,somemomentsmorethanothers.Likenow,IreallyneedtotalktoBree,butIalsoneedtogointothatmeeting.Duringtheregularseason,youforfeityourrightstoanormallife.Everyoneandeverythingotherthanfootballhastobeputonthebackburner.ButIdon’twanttoputBreeonabackburner.Iwanttogiveher100%ofmyattentionsoshefeelsvalued.Ialsoneedtogivemycareer100%ofmyfocusorI’llfallbehind.Ijustneedtofindawaytobringmycapacityupto200%.
IusedtofeellikeIcouldbalanceitallsowell.Lately…there’sjustthisfeelingIcan’tdescribethatfollowsmeeverywhereIgo.It’slikeeverythingisswirlingaroundmeatalltimes.There’snowaytomakeitsettledown
Idon’tknow…I’llbefine.It’sprobablyjustplayoffjitters.
Ilooktowardtheconferenceroom,knowingIneedtogetintherebeforeI’mofficiallylate.“Listen,Bree—”
“IDIDN’TMEANANYOFIT,”sheshoutsinarush.
Mylungsdeflate,andIturnmybacktothemeetingIshouldbein.“Arewetalkingaboutthevideo?”
“Yes.AndNathan,I’msosorry!YouknowhowIgetwhenIdrinktequila.DrunkBreeisaterritorialhussy,andIsaidalotofcrapaboutyouhavingfeelingsformeandmestain-removingotherwomenfromyourlife,butitwasthedrinktalking.Itwasalltequila’sfault.”
Ican’tspeak,becauseIdon’tknowwhattosay.Atumbleweedrollsacrossmythoughts.
Iletmyselfdreamtoomuchthismorning.Ishouldhaveknownbetter.Breehasbeentellingmeforsixyearsthatshe’dneverwanttodateme.Why,afteronedrunkenspeech,didIthinkherfeelingshadchanged?
“Right.”IforceasmallchucklebecauseIwillnotgetweirdandloseheroverthis.“Ithoughtso.Don’tworryaboutit.It’sforgotten.”
“A-areyousure?Doweneedtotalkmoreaboutthis?Doyouneedmoreconvincing?Becausewe’resuchgoodfriendsitwouldpracticallybeincestifwedated!Canyouevenimagine?!”Shelaughsweakly.
Myhandclenchesatmysidebecause,yes,Icanimagine.Anditlooksnothinglikeincesttome.
IfeellikeIjuststeppedonarustynailwhilebarefoot.Itakeinadeepbreathandrubthebackofmyneck.“Seriously,we’regood,Bree.Ibelieveyou.ButI’vegottogetintothismeeting.”
“Ohright!Sure!Sosorrytobugyou.Wecantalklater.”
“Definitely.”
“Dinnertonight?”
“Yeah,I’lltextyouwhenpracticeisover.Probablyaround6:30.”
“Great!”shesaysinanoverlypeppyvoicethatgratesonmyshrivelednerves.“I’llmakeveggielasagna.”
Isighatherobviousattemptstoneutralizethesituation.I’msotiredofneutral.I’mreadytoprovokethehelloutofsomething.“Youdon’thavetodothat.WecanjustordertakeoutandI’llpickituponmywayhome.”
“No!Iwantto!It’stheleastIcandoafterallofthis.I’llmakelasagnaandwe’llplayMariolikenormalandeverythingwillbegreat!”
Yep.Completelynormal.
Everythingwillbegreat.
IgethomeafterpracticetothesmellofBree’samazingveggielasagnaandthesightofherbuzzingaroundmykitchenanddancingto“DoYouBelieveinMagic?”Breeworkedinthekitchenofalittledinerafterschoolfromthetimewemetuntilshegraduatedhighschool.Itriedtogetajobtheretospendmoretimewithher,butmyparentsfoundoutandmademequit.Theydidn’twantmefocusingonanythingbesidesmygame,andsincemyparentswereprettywelloff,Ineveractuallyneededajob.
Bree’sparents,however,workedhardforeverydimetheymade,andsodidBree.Idon’tknowhowshediditall—school,dance,andwork—butshedid.Partofmewasenviousofherandthewayshewasabletoworkandsaveuptobuyherowncar.Ohmanwasitabeater,butitwashers.Everythingwashandedtomeandeventhenusuallyspoon-fed.Idroveaforty-thousand-dollartruckatagesixteen.Bree’sbumperwasheldonwithneongreenducttape.
Ican’tcomplaintoomuchbecausemyparentsgotmetowhereIamnow,butsomethinginmeapparentlyhasn’tcompletelyforgiventhemforhowhardtheydrovemetosuccesssinceanytimeIseeoneoftheirnamesonmycallerID,Ihavetotakeadeepbreathbeforeanswering.
AllIwantedwasfootballandneongreenducttape,andIalwaysgotthefeelingthatmyparentslookedatmeandsawnothingbutawaytoensuretheirfinancialsecurityandstatusfortherestoftheirlives.Footballwastheonlylifetheywantedmetolive.
Butenoughaboutmyparents.
Breeisanincrediblecook,butIalsoknowshehatescooking,whichiswhyIfeelbadwatchinghertrytomakeupforwhathappenedlastnight.Although,I’lladmit,shedoesn’tlooklikeshe’shatingitcurrentlywiththewayshe’sswayingherhipstothemusic.
Shedoesn’tseemeyet,sowithasmile,IfoldmyarmsandleanagainstthedoorframeasIwatchBreeleanovertheislandtodropafewdashesofparmesaninasaladbowlwithashimmy.Herhairbouncesaroundhershoulderslikeit’sjustaspeppyassheis.
Suddenly,shebecomesawareofmeandherheadfliesup.Hercheeksonlyturnpinkforafractionofasecondbeforeherdancingbecomesevenmoredramatic.
“You’resuchatwerpstandingtherewatchingme!”sheshoutsovertheloudmusicasshestartsdancingherwayover.She’sthrowingoutafishinglineandreelingmein.She’stakingmetothecarwash.We’regroceryshopping.
Idon’tsayanything,justsmileasBreewigglesherarmslikeoceanwavesallthewaytostandinfrontofme.Breeisthemostincredibleballerina,andtoseeherdanceistrulymagic,butohboy,she’sanadorablyatrociousmoderndancer.Herhairistwistingandtwirlingaroundher,andshe’swearingadarkburgundyleotardwithteenytinycrisscrossstrapsallovertheplace.Idon’tknowhowshegotintothatthing.Thebackdipslow,showingoffalotofskinaswellasherblacksportsbra.Baggygreyjoggerswiththeelasticbandrolleddownsitlowonherhips.Itshowsoffeachofhercurvesandathleticform,andI’mhopingmytongueisnothangingoutthesideofmymouth.
Breehassteppedstraightoutofmydreams,thesensationonlyincreasingasherdancemovesturnmoremodernandshetwerksinfrontofmelikewe’reinaclubinsteadoflisteningtophraseslikeifthemusicisgroovy.She’stryingtomakemelaugh,andI’mjusttryingnottostarelikeaperv.
Ican’tholditinanymorewhensheturnstofaceme,wigglingherhipsdramaticallyandpretendingtorunherhandsallovermybodywithouttouchingme.Herexpressionissooverthetop:scrunchednose,bitinglip,andthemostinnocentsongplayinginthebackground.Alaughfinallycracksfrommychest,andIlooktothesideinsteadoflettingmyselfputmyhandsonherhipsandpullherupclosetomesowecanreallytouch.
Practicallyincest.
MyexpressionmusthavechangedbecauseBreestopsdancing,alittleoutofbreath,andreachesinherpockettopullouttheremoteforthespeakers.Shecutsthemusicandthecheerysoundsdie.Irealizemyarmsarecrossedtightly
Shelooksupatmeandhersmilefades.“Areyoumadatme…forwhatIsaidinthevideo?”
Herfacetearsmyheartinhalf.ShethinksI’mmadaboutwhatshesaid?!I’mmadthatit’snottrue!No,I’mnotevenmad.I’mjustpouting.I’mbeingabigpoutybabyandIneedtogetoverit.Thewayshefeelsaboutmeisnotbreakingnews.It’salwaysbeenthisway.
Iforcemyfacetosoftenandformasmile.“Notmadintheleast.”Istepforward,takingadeepbreathasIpullherintomychest.Shewrapsherarmsaroundmywaistandsqueezes.
Smashedupagainstmychest,shelooksuptocatchmyeyes.Hersarethecolorofcoffeewithasplashofcream.JustthewayItakemine.“You’resure?”
“I’msure.HowcouldIbemadknowingyouwerejusttryingtomakeeveryoneawarethatmyding-a-lingisnoone’sbusiness?”
Shegroansandburiesherfaceinmyshirt,grippingitdramaticallylikeshewantstoclawherwayinsideitanddie.“Ididcallitthat,didn’tI?Pleeeeaseforgetyoueverheardthatwordcomeoutofmymouth.”
“Fatchance.It’ssoalluring,don’tyouthink?WomenwillcomerunningwhenIcallitthat.”
It’sgoodtofeelherlaughagainstme.I’vewantedherinthisexactpositionallday.Everyday.Ughhhhjuststop,Nathan.IneedafewminutestogatherupmyfracturedfeelingsbeforeI’mreadytogetbacktoour“normal”friendship.
Iletgoofher.“Ifyoudon’tneedanyhelp,Iwanttochangebeforeweeat.”
Sherubsahandonherarm,probablystillfeelingmyweirdenergy.“Yeah.Noproblem.I’llscoopeverythingoutontoplates.”
Igobacktomybedroomtolickmywounds.There’sagiantcanvastotebagonmybed,stuffedwithlettersandpackages.I’mjustabouttocalloutandaskBreewhatitiswhensheappearsinmydoorwayalittleoutofbreathlikeshejoggedbackhere.
“Oh!Bytheway!Youragentsentthisoverearlier.It’sfanmail.”
Myeyebrowsshootup.Imean,I’musedtogettinglettersfromfans,butnotthismany.“That’s…alotofmail.”
Shebitesherbottomlipandgrimaces.“Yeah.It’s…sortof…well,maybeyoushouldjustopenafewandsee.”
That’sodd.Istartsortingthroughthepile,andthenumberonethingIseearetonsofTide-To-Gopenswithlittlenotesattached.“WipealltheotherwomenoutandkeepBree!”ThenextthreeIopensaysomethingsimilar.AfewotherlettersgoonandonabouthowmuchtheyadoreBree—andIagree,butclearlytheyaretakingthatdrunkenvideoalittletooseriously.
IwhistlewhenIlookinthebagagainandrealizetherehavetobeabout100stain-removingpensinhere.I’llneverhaveanexcuseforastainedshirtfortherestofmylife.
“Aretheyalllikethis?”Isortthroughfivemorenotesandtossthembesidethecanvasbag.
Breewalksupslowlybehindme,likeshe’safraidI’mgoingtoturnaroundandbiteherheadoff.“Yeah.”Shewhimpers.“I’mso,so,sosorry!Ididn’trealizeKarawasajournalist.ButevenifIdid…IwassofargoneI’mafraidIstillwouldhavesaidallofthatcraziness.”Shegroansagainwhensheglancesatthemountainoffanmail.“I’vecausedsuchamessforyou.”
ItakeherhandandsqueezeeventhoughIknowIshouldn’t.“Hey,Isaidit’sfine,andImeantit.I’llcallNicoleandTimlaterandgetastatementtogether.I’mnotworriedaboutmyimage,I’mjustalittleworriedabout…”Ilookbacktowardtheenormouspileofletters.
“Theaddedwork?Lettingyourfansdown?Havingtoconvinceeveryonewe’renotreallytogether?”
“You.”Ilookbackather.“Iknowyoudon’tlikebeinginthespotlight,andI’msurethisisuncomfortableforyou.Also…you’llprobablywanttomakeyourInstagramprivatenow.”
“Oh,Ialreadyhave,”shesays,soundingwearyinawaythatmakesmystomachtwistpainfully.She’sneverwantedthislife.“Iwokeupto10knewfollowers.AndwhenIwentdownstairsthismorningtowalkhome,therewerereporterswaitingformeoutside.Yoursweetdoormansnuckmeoutthebackandgavemealifthome.”
Dammit.Ididn’teventhinkaboutthefactthatIdroveBreelastnightandshedidn’thavehercarthismorning.Geez,I’mfailingallovertheplace.
Thisisnotgood.NotonlybecauseI’mfreakedoutaboutBree’ssafety,butbecauseI’mterrifieditmeansshe’sgoingtoboltoutofmylife.She’sbeensternfromthebeginningaboutwhatshe’llallowinthisfriendship,andstardomwaswritteninboldintheNOTALLOWEDsection.
“Howdidthishappensoquickly?”Iaskwhiletossingaletterbackintothepile.
“Kara’ssneakyvideoofmeinthebathroomhasgoneviral,andbecausesheusedmyfullnameinthearticle,everyoneeasilytrackeddownmyaccount.Theseallshowedupbecausetherewasapostgoingaroundthismorningencouragingpeoplewholiveintheareatodropnotesoffatyouragent’sofficesoyou’dgetthem.CanIjustsaythat’ssupercreepy?”
“Evencreepierthatsomanydidit.TheyhadtoactuallygooutandbuyaTide-To-Gopentoo.”I’veneverbeenabletogetusedtofandom.That’sonepartofthisjobIdespise.
“Idon’tthinkit’sgoingtostopanytimesooneither.They’vebeentaggingusbothinvideorepostsandusingthehashtag#TideGirl.Superflattering.”Shescruncheshernose.“It’saspinonsomethingIsaidinthevideo.”
“YoumeanwhenyousaidyouwishedyoucoulduseaTidepentowipealltheotherwomenoutofmylife?”Iregretbringingitupimmediately.Clearlyshedoesn’twanttorevisitit.
Breepullsherhandfromminesoshecancoverhercheeks.“Tequila,Nathan.Tequilamademesayit!”
Ilaugh,hopingtoeasehertensioneventhoughallIwanttodoissinkintoadepressedballonthefloor.I’llbebettertomorrowwhenIcanresetmybrainandwakeupwithoutthehopeofarealrelationshipwithBree.
“Alright,listen,IwantyoutolayreallylowuntilIcancallNicoleandgethertodosomedamagecontrol.Nowalkinghomealone,andifyouhavetogotothegrocerystoreorsomewherepublic,I’llsendmybodyguardwithyouuntilallofthisblowsover.”
“Damagecontrol?!Idamagedyou!Ohmygosh,I’mtheworstfriend.”
“Bree—thedamagecontrolisforyou,notme.”I’mnottheonewhodespisesthespotlight.Ortheideaofaromanticrelationshipbetweenus.
Hershouldersrelax.“Oh.Okay.Well,that’salittlebetter.”Shepausesandlooksatthepileoffanmaillikeshe’stryingtoharnessmagicalabilitiesandsenditallintoanotherdimension.Itdoesn’twork.Herpowersaren’tstrongenough.“Canwejustgoeatandforgetaboutallofthisforalittlebit?”
“Sure.I’mjustgoingtochangemyshirt,becauseironically,thisonehasastainonit.”
Webothlaugh,anditliftsalittleofthetensionintheair.Ipulloffmyshirtandwalktowardmydressertograbacleanone.That’swhenIcatchBree’sfaceinthemirror.She’sstillinhere,staringatmybackwithhermouthslightlyopen.She’snotlookingaway.Hereyesaregluedtome,andIhavetoworksohardnottoflex.Wait,shouldIflex?No.ThatwouldmakeitridiculouslyobviousthatIseehercheckingmeout,right?
Butsheischeckingmeout.There’sasparkinhereyesIhaven’tnoticedbefore.Imean,she’sseenmewithmyshirtoffprobablyclosetoahundredtimes,andIalwaysthoughtshewasindifferenttomybody.Unimpressed.NowI’mwonderingifshealwayslooksatmelikethiswhenI’mnotwatchingher…
Hopespringsbackupinmychest,andIdecidetoturnthisintoalittleexperimentofsorts.
Ireachintoadrawerandpulloutaplainwhitet-shirt,stretchingmynecksidetosideafewtimeslikemymusclesarejustohsotight.IlifttheshirtovermyheadandtugitdowninthesexywayIwasmadetodoitinthoseJockeycommercials.Ispreadmyshoulderswideandliftmyarms,knowingfullwellitmakesallmymusclesbunchandripple.Cansomeonegetmesomeoilrightquick?Thatwouldbegreat.
I’mnotevensorrybecausethisexperimentisproducingsomeverycompellingresults.Bree’seyesarefixedonme,andshe’sbitingherlipalmosttothepointofdrawingblood.Hereyelidsareheavyinawaythatsaysshelikeswhatshesees.
Thatisnotthelookofawomanwithsisterlyfeelings.
Not.One.Bit.
Iturnaround,andinthatfractionofamoment,she’slookingawaylikeshe’sbeenaninnocentlittlelambthewholetime.Hercheeksarepinkthough.Prettyripestrawberries.
“Ready?”sheasksinahighpeppyvoice.Shecan’tmeetmyeyes,andsuddenlyI’mwonderingifmaybethetequiladidn’tmakeherspoutnonsense.Maybeitremovedherfilter.Andmaybetheguyswereright.
Somethinginsidemesnaps.It’spossibleIdidn’thydrateenoughduringpracticetoday,ormaybeI’mhavinganearlymidlifecrisis,butsuddenly,Ifeelliketakingabigchance.Notthinkingfirst,justjumping.
“Bree?”Iask,andmytoneclearlysayssomethingbigisabouttogodown.
Hereyeswiden.“Yeah?”
Istepcloser.You’dthinkIwouldbeatalossforwords,butI’verehearsedthisinmyheadsomanytimesthatIknowwordforwordwhattosay.“Listen,aboutwhatyousaidinthevideo—”
I’minterruptedbyaloudknockonmyfrontdoor.
Breelooksimmediatelyrelieved,andshepracticallybouncesonhertoesasshesays,“Oh!Someone’satthedoor!I’llgetit!”
Great.Justgreat.Iopenthefrontdoor,andNathan’sagent,Nicole,sweepsinwearingafabulousgreypowersuit,alargeleatherbagdrapedoverhershoulderandalargefoamboardunderherarm.
“Oh,good.You’realreadyhere,”shesaystomeasshepasses.
Herfive-inchblackstilettosclickoverthehardwoodfloor,andIhavenoideahowshemanagestomovesofastinthosethings.IwouldhardcoreeatitonthisslicksurfaceifItriedtomovelikeshedoesinthosebeauties.NotNicole.Sheglides.Floats.Awomanwhodaresyoutomesswithher.IthinkIhaveagirlcrush.
NicolehasbeenNathan’sagentsincethestartofhiscareer,andshe’sincredible.Thiswomanisano-nonsensepowerhouse,andshe’snotoriousfornegotiatingthemostruthlesscontractsintheNFL.NicolehastakenNathan’scareerbythereinsandsteeredittoincredibleheights.
IwantaNicole.I’veofferedtopayherinlotsofhugsandwordsofaffirmationtoguidemycareerintherightdirectiontoo,butoddly,shesaidnothenwentbacktoschedulingstuffonherphoneforNathan.Loyal—Icanrespectthat.Besides,I’mdoingokayonmyown.Well,exceptforthepartwhereNathanhasbeenmonetarilyfloatingmeallthistimewithoutmeknowingit.AndIstillcan’tbringmyselftosendintheapplicationtoTheGoodFactorythatI’vefilledoutfivedifferenttimes.Yep,doinggood.
JustasNicoleissettingdownwhatIcanonlyimagineisafoamboardpresentationofsomekind(Ihopethereisglitterinvolved),Nathansurfacesfromhisbedroom.Idon’tevenwanttothinkaboutwhateveritwashewasgettingreadytosaytomebackthereinhisroom.I’veneverbeenmorethrilledaboutaninterruptioninallmylife.ThewayListen,Bree,aboutwhatyousaidinthevideo…I’mreallyflattered,butIjustwanttomakesurewe’reonthesamepageandyouknowwewillonlyeverbefriends.
IshiverandturnmyattentiontoNathanandNicole.
“HiNathan,I’msorrytobotheryouatnightlikethis.Itriedcallingbutyoudidn’tanswer.Clearly,youwerebusy.”Hergreyeyesshiftmischievouslytowardmeandthenbacktohim.
Webothstartspoutingbabblingnonsense.
“Oh,wewerejust…”
“Lasagna!”
“Andthenastainonmyshirt.”
“Anapologymeal,andthenstraighthomeforme!”
Nicoleholdsupahandlikeshe’ssilencingakindergartenclass.“Letmespareyouboth.Idon’tcare.”Shethensmilesandtightensherimmaculateblondehighponytail.IthasthatadorableflipattheendlikeBarbie.“I’mherebecauseofatime-sensitivedealIneedtodiscusswithbothofyou.”
“Bothofus?”NathanandIsayinunison,andIwanttokickusforbeingsoannoyinglyintune.
NathanshiftsclosertomeasNicoleadjustsherfoamboardintoanuprightpositiononthecoffeetablethenopensbothoftheflaps.Thistime,NathanandIbothgaspinhorror.Oh,Nicole.Poorwoman.Clearlythepressureofthisjobhastakenatollonherbrain.
Thepresentationdefinitelyhasglitter.ItalsohaslotsofphotosofmeandNathan,rippedfromthedeeppitsofGoogle.Theyaremostlyphotosofuswalkingsidebysidetoacoffeeshopcapturedbypaparazzi,orindividualphotosofuscutandpastedtolooklikewe’restandingtogether.SomanyarestolenfrommyInstagram.It’sstartling,buttheworstpartisthenumberoftackyheartsshe’sdrawnaroundthephotos…andtheincludedlistofbabynameswecanchoosefromforournon-existentunbornchild.
“Nicole…”Nathanstarts,buthe’satalossforhowtofinish.
Hereyesshiftbetweenthetwoofusandobserveourmutualhorror.“Ohmygosh,youthinkImadethis?!Insulting.No,thisiswhyI’mheretonight.Afanmadethisforyoutwoanddroppeditoffattheagencyearlier.Therearemorelikeittoo.”
Well,thatimmediatelychangesthings.NathanhasthesamethoughtIdo,andwebothturnsharplyateachotherandyell,“Icallit!”
Ipointathim.“Isaiditfirst!”
Herollshiseyes.“Notevenclose.Itwasatie.”
NowayinhellamIlosingoutonthiscreepyboard.“Whydoyouneedit?Lookaround,buddy—itdoesn’tgowithyourdecorintheleast.”
Heliftsabrow.“Anditgoeswithyours?”
“No…”Inarrowmyeyesandpretendtobeacontractor,measuringitwithmyfingers.“Butitistheperfectsizetohidethatbigcrackinmybedroomwall.”
Heshakeshishead.“We’llsettlethistherightway:athumbwar.”
Iscoff.“Yeahright!I’mnotfallingforthatagain.Lookatthosegargantuanthingsyoucallthumbs.Notfair.Whatwe’lldois—”
Nicoleclaps,andourshouldersjump.“I’mtoobusyforthis.Figureoutwhogetsthecreepyshrinelater.Let’sgositatthetableandI’llbringthepaperwork.”
WefollowNicoletothekitchentable,andIcan’thelpfeelingalittlelikeI’mheadedtotheprincipal’soffice.Nathantakestheseatbesideme,andhishandgoestorestonthebackofmychair.I’mhyperawareofit.Nothingelsebesidesthepresenceofhisarmatmybackcanholdmyattention.
Nicoleclaspsherhandsinfrontofher,elbowsonthetable.“Sinceeveryone’stimeisprecious,let’scutrighttoit.I’mnotsurehowmuchyou’vebeenonsocialmediatoday.Nathan,Iknowyoutrytosteerclearofitasmuchaspossible,butI’msureafterseeingthefoamboardshrineandallthefanmailIhadsentoverearlier,you’reabletograspabitofhowviralBree’svideohasbecome.”
Mystomachdrops.Thismeetingisaboutmespecifically!Ohgosh.HaveIcausedserioustroubleforNathan?Isshegoingtosayheshouldgetridofme?Ineedtoofferupasolutionbeforethingsgetoutofhand.
“IfImay,”Isay,risingfromthetablelikeI’mpresentingacaseincourt.“PleaseallowmetosayhowterriblysorryIam,andIrealizeit’sallmyfault.ItakefullresponsibilityandwilldowhateverIneedtoinordertorectifythesituation.Mysisterofferedtoletmecomestaywithherforafewdayssoallthegossipcandie—”
Nicoleinterruptsmewithacacklinglaugh.IblinkandlookatNathan.Heshrugs,lookingjustasconfusedasIfeel
“YouthinkIwantyououtofthepicture?”Shelaughsagainandshakesherhead.“Sitdown,Bree.”
Icomplyquickly,bruisingmytailbonewhenIsitdowntoohard.
“Sowhatisityouthinkweshoulddo?”Nathanasks,andhalfofmybrainisstillzoomedinonhishandclutchingthebackofmychair.WhenItakeinadeepbreath,thesideofhisthumbbrushesagainstmyshoulderblade.Isitjustmeorhashebeencasuallytouchingmemoreoften?Aretheselittletouchesaccidentalor…
Nope,nevermind.
Nicoleclearsherthroat—probablybecauseitfeelsscratchyfromallthatlaughing.“Toputitsimply,youtwoshoulddate.”
Myjawhitsthefloorsoharditmakesthewholeapartmentbuildingtremble.“I’msorry,what?Ididn’thearyoucorrectly.”
“Youtwoshoulddate.”
Irubmyearviolently.“HA!Sorry.Musthavesomethinginmyear.Ikeephearingyousayweshould—”
“Date,”Nathanfinishesthesentenceforme,andgoosebumpschasethatwordallovermyskin.“Thatiswhatshe’ssaying.Butwhywouldwedothat?”heasksNicole.
Shelaughsagain,andIwanttostealhervoiceawaylikeUrsuladidtoArielbecauseit’sreallygettingonmynervesnow.
“Well…”Shepicksupsomepapersinfrontofherandtapsthemintoaneatpile.“Majorbrandsarefinallybeginningtocatchonthatsocialmediaisthenumberonewaytoreachtheyoungerdemographic.They’veallbeguntoseekoutinfluencersonInstagramandTikTokandutilizetheirplatformstosellmoreproductsinanorganicway.”
WhichiswhymyInstagramfeedconstantlyfeelslikeatripdownaTargetaisle.
Nicolecontinues,“Tide,asinthelaundrydetergentbrand,caughtwindofyourviralvideoandlovedit.Theiraccounthashadathirtypercentspikeinengagementsincethevideowentlivelastnight,andtosaytheyareimpressedwouldbeanunderstatement.They’veofferedyoubothadeal.”Nicolepicksupthepileofpapersandlaystheminfrontofus.Itlookslikeacontractofsomesort,andthelettersaresotinyandpackedtogetherI’mnotsureit’sactuallymadeforhumanstoread.“TidealreadyhasacommercialadspotscheduledduringtheSuperBowl,butgiventhemassivehypearoundthestain-removingpen,theywantyoutwotofilmanewone,playingoffofwhatBreesaidinthevideoeveryoneisgoingnutsfor.ItwouldbesomethingcutesyandtongueincheekwithNathan.”
We’rebothquietforafewbeats,processingandreprocessinguntilwecanmakesenseofthisnonsensicalinformation.AllIcanthinkis1)I’mnotintrouble,yay!2)Nathan’sthumbisstilltouchingmyskin.3)Anemphasisonnumbertwo.
Nathanregainsconsciousnessfasterthanme.“Sowhywouldweneedtodateexactly?Whycan’twejustdothecommercialtogetherandthatbeit?”
“CouplesinHollywooddothissortofthingallthetimeaspublicityforupcomingmoviesthey’repromoting.It’sthesameprinciple.Theywantyouguystobecomeacouple—realorfake,dependingonyourpreference—leadinguptothecommercialtocontinuebuildinghypearoundthebrand.Now,ofcoursetheyknowyou’reintheplayoffsrightnow,Nathan,andyourtimeislimited,sothey’reonlyaskingforonepublicoutingwhereyoucanbespottedandphotographedlookingcouple-ish.TherearesomebulletpointsaboutpostingonInstagramacertainnumberoftimesandthehashtagstheywouldlikeforyoutouse,butitallseemsdoableinmyopinion.Oh,andthereisanon-disclosureagreementyoubothwouldhavetosign.”
“Andafterthecommercial?”Nathanaskswithonetinysidewaysglanceatme.
“Breakup,getmarried,whatever…it’suptoyou.”Sheshrugsagain.Nobigdeal.JustacasualconversationamongfriendswherethewordMARRIAGEisusedinreferencetomeandNathan.“Youshouldknow,ifyoudecidetotakethedeal,therateisasignificantamountforbothofyou,butyouwillbeundercontracttoupholdtheterms.I’ve,ofcourse,alreadylookedateverythingtomakesurethey’rereasonable,andIwouldn’tevenbebringingituptoyouifIdidn’tthinkitwouldbegoodforyourcareer,Nathan.Thiskindofpositivepublicityisjustthesortofthingweneedtodrawinmoreendorsementdealsintheoffseason.”Nicole’sbright,laser-beameyesturntome.“AndBree,likeIsaid,it’sreallygoodmoney.Thisistheamounthere.”
IlookdowntowherehermanicuredfingerispointingandHOLYCRAP!IwouldgetallofthosezerosfromonecommercialandafewdateswithNathan?!
Iglancetomyright,tryingtocatchaglimpseofhimtoseewhathistakeonallofthisis,buthisfaceisimpassive.He’swaitingformetodecidefirst,butsurelyhewantstodoit.Imean,thissortofthingwouldbeamazingforhisimage,andpretendingtodatemeforafewweekswouldbenobigdealforhimbecausehedoesn’thavefeelingsforme.Also,it’satonofmoney—thesortofmoneythatcouldgetmeoutofmynastyapartmentandintosomethingthatprobablydoesn’thavemoldinthewalls.Icouldgetanewcar!Or—no,DUH!IcanpayNathanbackforalltheyearsofrenthehasbeenpayingonmybehalf.Thisishuge.
IknowNathanwouldneverholdtherentsituationovermyhead,butitwouldmakemefeelbettertohaveacleanslatenonetheless.Thereasonforwantingtopayhimbackisnotprideorstubbornness.It’ssomethingmorecomplicated.It’sconfidenceinknowingIcanprovideformyself,andit’salsoaformofcaringformyfriend.Irealizehedoesn’tneedthismoneyfromme,buteversincewewereinhighschool,Nathan’sfriendsandfamilyhavealwayslookedtohimastheirfinancialsavior,likeit’shissoleresponsibilitytopullthemoutoftheirtightsqueeze.Irefusetoevertreathimlikethat.So,Imayhavetoaccepthisfriends-and-familydiscountonmystudiorentuntilIfigureoutwhatmynextstepis,butIwillpayhimbackforhiskindnesstome.
Unfortunately,itmeansIhavetodatemybestfriend.CouldIhandlecrossingthisfriendshiplineandcomebackfromitunscathedintheend?I’mskeptical.
Myshouldersdeflate,andNathannotices.HelooksatNicole.“Canyougiveusaminutealonetotalkitover?”
“Ofcourse.I’llbeoutonthebalconymakingafewcallswhileyoudiscussit.”
Nicolesetsaninnocentlittlepenbythepapersbeforeleavingtheroom.Thedoorslamsbehindher,andIwinceattheabrasivesound.Ifeeljumpy.Myfootisvibrating.Mykneeisbouncing.
“Bree,”Nathansaysinasoothingtone,reachingdowntostillmyfoot.“Wedonothavetodothis.SaythewordandI’lltellNicoletothrowthepapersinthetrash.”
IlookfromthestackofcontractstoNathan.He’ssorelaxed.Notashakingfootorbouncingkneeonhim.Instead,hisdarkeyeslookaspeacefulasthedeadofnight,whenyoucan’tsleepandlookoutthewindowandeverythingiscalmandstill.
“Soyou’releavingthechoicecompletelyuptome?”Iask,uncomfortablewiththeweightofthatrealization.
“Ofcourse.I’musedtothislifealready.It’syouwhowouldbeaffectedthemostbythesuddenchange.”
“But…you’reokaywith…thedatingpart?”
Somethingflashesinhisfeatures.Helooksawayquicklyandthenbacktome.“Well,I…”Histhumbtapsonthebackofmychair,themovementbrushesagainstmyshoulderblade,andthehairsonmyarmstand.They’reallattentivelistenerstothestoryhisthumbistryingtotell.“Ithinkwecouldworkitout.Buttobehonest,theonlyreasonI’dhesitatetodoitisbecauseIknowexactlywhatyou’replanningtodowiththatmoney.”
Iliftmychin.“Noyoudon’t.”
“It’swrittenalloveryourface.See,righthereacrossyourforeheaditsays,PAYNATHANBACK.”
Ilaughandgivehimagentleshove.Hedoesn’tbudgebecausehe’sanox.“Idon’tknow.We’dhavetobeacoupleforfourwholeweeks.”Alotcanhappeninfourweeks.
“Afakecouple.Itwouldjustbeacting.”
Oh.Well,that’strue…
“Andbesides,”hecontinues,“you’realwayssayinghowmuchwe’relikebrotherandsister.Sothereshouldn’tbeanyfearoffeelingsforming.Unless…”
MyeyeswidentosaucersandIcuthimoff.“You’retotallyright!It’sactuallynotthatbigofadealnowthatIthinkaboutit.”Theinflectioninmyvoiceislighter.It’sallstartingtofeelverypracticalandstraightforward.Yeah.Thisisgood.NathanandIcantotallydothis.Icandothis!
“Andwe’realreadycomfortablearoundeachother,soitwouldn’ttakemuchtosellit.Ifanything,we’lljustgettogohavesomefunnightsouttogether.”Okay,nowhesoundsvaguelylikethedevilonmyshoulder,butI’mjustsoldenoughtonotcare.AndmaybeI’mjustatinybitexcitedtoseewhatit’sliketodatehiminawaythatwillhaveabsolutelynobadrepercussionsforme.
Ismileandnodonce.“You’reright.Let’sdoit!”
Hisbrowsriseandthemovementofhisthumbstops.“Areyousure?”
“Aslongasyoupromiseyou’llacceptthemoneywhenIpayyouback.”
Herollshiseyesandgroans.“Breeeeeee,Idon’tneedyourmoney.”
“Nathannnnnn,Idon’tcare.Payingyoubackisthehonorablethingtodo.Idon’tmoochoffofmyrichfriends.Sopromiseme.”
Heholdsmygazeforabeatthenbegrudginglysmiles.“Fine.Ipromise.”
Iswallowasuddenburstofbutterflies.“Then,yeah!Let’sdothisthing.It’llbeeasy-peasy.Maybeevenfun.”
IwatchwithasinkingfeelingasNathan’sheadtiltseversoslightlyandagrintugsatthecornerofhismouth.It’salookI’veneverseenbefore,likeIjustgotdupedbyacardsharkwhenIthoughtIwasplayingGoFishagainstatoddler.
Hehandsmethepen.“Oh,it’lldefinitelybefun.I’llmakesureofit.”“Notgoodenough!”Iyellwithmymouthfullofpopcornandbarefeetproppeduponmykitchentable.It’slateonFridaynightandtheguyshavebeenhereforhours.
Jamallooksatmeoverhisshoulder,dryerasemarkerfrozenagainstthewhiteboardIboughtafewmonthsagoforpurposesexactlylikethisone.Ikeepitstoredawayinaspareclosetandonlypullitoutforplanningsessions.AtthetopoftheboardinboldlettersiswrittenNOMOREFRIENDZONE.Notsupercatchy.We’restillworkshoppingit.
ThesecondItoldJamalaboutthemeetingwithBreeandNicolelastnight,hegroup-textedtheguysandtoldthemtomeetatmyplaceafterpracticeforawhiteboardplanningsession.Thisisn’tthefirsttimewe’veusedthisboard.LasttimeitwastoputaplantogetherforhowtogetJamal’sgirlfriendtotakehimbackafterheactedlikeapeacockingassathersister’swedding.(Theplanbombed.Shedidn’ttakehimback.)
ThetimebeforethatitwastofigureouthowtokeepthegirlDerekwasseeingawayfromhismomonherextendedvisittoseehim.Thosewomenhatedeachother.Admittedly,thatonealsodidn’tgosowell.Here’stohopingthisthirdtimewillbethecharm.
“What?Why?I’mtellingyouthiswillwork.”Jamaltakesastepbackandeyesthecornerbackblitzplayhejustmappedout.Heshrugsashegoesoveritagain.“Dude,doyouseriouslynotknowthis?Youjustgottatimeitright,comearoundherblindside,andboom,sackher.She’llneverseeitcoming.”Idon’tthinkhemeans“sackher”inthewayitsounds.Atleast,hebetternot.TheguyshavelearnedthehardwaynottotalkaboutBreeoranyotherwomenlikethataroundme.
IsquintattheboardlikeIdon’tunderstandtheperfectlyobviousplaybecauseitalwaysmakesforagoodtimetomesswithJamal.Although,howitappliesinametaphoricalsenseisstillalittlehazy.“ButwhoisBreeinthisplay?QBortheball?”
“QB,obviously.”
“What’stheballrepresentthen?”Priceasks,leaningforwardwithforearmsrestingonhisknees,joininginonmygame.
Jamallooksatuslikewe’remissingbrains.“Therelationship.”
“AndNateis…”
“He’sthecornerback.”HedrawsaheartaroundoneoftheXs,andthenewdiamondbraceletheboughtforhimselfglittersinthelight.“Guys,thisissuperself-explanatory.Ishouldn’thavetospellitoutlikethis.”
Priceskewsuphisface.It’salittleoverdramatic,butJamalisstillbuyingit.“Idon’tgetit.Nate’saquarterback—he’snotgoingtobeabletoplaydefense.”
Jamalblinksapproximatelytwentytimesandthensighs.“It’sjustametaphor!”
Ishakemyhead.Sodefeated.“Buthe’sright,I’mshitondefense.WhatifI’mnogoodmetaphoricallyeither?”
“It’snotthesame!”He’sclutchingthatdryerasemarkerlikehe’ssqueezingalemon.
“Whoaretheothertwolinemenintheplay?”
“That’smeandDerek.Obviously,you’regoingtoneedourhelponthisonesincewe’rethemostsexuallyexperiencedofthegroup.NooffensetoPriceandLawrence.”
“Offensetaken,”Lawrencesays,standinguptohisfullsix-foot-eightheight.HewalksovertoJamalandsnatchesthemarkerfromhishand.“You’reasucker.They’remessingwithyou.”WeThreeStoogesbooLawrence.“Alright,timetogetserious.Firstofall,Natedoesn’tneedsexualexperienceinthissituation.Heneedsromanticexperience.AndhedefinitelyneedsmorethanoneveryobscureplaytoshowBreetherecouldbesomethingbetweenthembesidesjustfriendship.Heneedsawhole…”HiswordstrailoffashefinisheshissentencebywritingROMANCECHEATSHEETontheboard.
“Ooothat’sgood,”Isaybeforetossingapieceofpopcornintheairandcatchingitinmymouth.Iwearacheatsheetfullofplaysonmywristduringeverygame;whyshouldn’tIdosomethingsimilarinthissituationsoIcanrefertoitwhenIneedalittleinspiration?Ilikeit.“Lawrenceisofficiallyincharge.”
Lawrenceissmug.Jamalcrosseshisarmsandstalksovertothechairbesidemetoslumpdownintoit.Iofferhimsomepopcorn,andhejustgivesmethestinkeye.
“Don’tpout,”Isaywhilecrunching.
“I’mnotpouting.”
“You’repouting,”weallsayinunison.
Jamalrollshiseyes.“Justgetonwithitandtellusaboutyouramazingromancecheatsheet.”Hesaysitlikeadatingcheatsheetischeesierthanwhatwe’vealreadybeendoing.
“Iplanonit,thankyou.”LawrenceliftshiseyebrowsinJamal’sdirectionbeforeturningtothewhiteboardandsavagelyerasingallofJamal’splay.“Thisisromance,men.Notfootball.Wecan’tuseplayfakesandlittleXsandOstoportrayanentirerelationship.Andnovaguemetaphors.Whatweneedarewords.”
Theguysallhiss.Hejusttoldthemtheyhavetodressupinsuitsandattendacotillion.
Lawrencecrackshisknucklesandstretcheshisneckfromsidetoside.“Breehasalwayssaidsheseesyoulikeabrother(eventhoughIdon’tbelieveitforonesecond),butoverthenextfewweeks,you’regoingtoshowheradifferentsideofyou,allunderthesafetyofthisfakedatingendorsementdeal.”
Okay,wellI’msold.Ilikethesoundofthat.IgetafewweekstofinallyshowBreetheattractionI’vealwaysfeltforherandseeifshereturnsit.It’salotofpressuretosqueezesixyears’worthoffriend-zone-undoingintoashortamountoftime,butwhat’salittlemorestressaddedtomylife?Icanhandleit.
“Soundsgood.SowhatdoIdo,guru?”
Lawrencestartspacingandtappingthecappedmarkeronhischin.“We’vegottoapproachthiscarefully.Sinceyouguyshavebarelytouchedoverthelastsixyears,you’llneedtostartslow.Small,gentlemoves,buildinginintensityasthesituationwarrants,andonlyifsheseemstobereciprocating.”IthinkhemissedhiscallingasHitch,becausehe’sexactlyright.Breeisnotoneforsuddenchange.She’sbeenwearingthesamestackofbraceletsforayearnowandonlyaddedanewonetothemixafterdebatingthemeritsofitwithmeforaweek.
“IfI’velearnedanythingfromHallmarkmovies,it’sthatnowomanlikesapersistentmanwhenshetellshimno.SoifBreetrulydoesonlyseeyouasabrotherbythetimethisisallover,you’regoingtohavetolethergoandmoveon.Luckily,sinceyou’llonlybemakingmovesinthenameofthecontract,you’llbeabletogobacktonormalintheendwithoutburninganybridgesifshedoesn’tseemintoyou.”
Yeah,normal.Unfortunately,there’sanaggingfeelinginsidemethatsaysIwon’tbeabletogobacktonormal.Idon’tknowifI’llbeabletostandbyafterallofthisandwatchherdateotherguysagain,orbenearherandnevertouch.It’storture.Idon’twanttohavetothinkaboutwhatI’lldoifshedoesn’twantarelationshipwithmejustyet.
“What’syourfirstpublicdatewithBreegoingtobe?”Jamalasks,sittingforwardnowthathedoesn’tthinkLawrence’sideaiscompletetrash.
IgetoutmyphoneandlookatthecalendarNicolekeepsupdatedforme.“Wednesdaywehavetofilmthecommercial.Oh,andbytheway,itisacompletebreachofcontractformetotellyouguyswe’regoingtobeinafakerelationship,butIreallyneededhelp.”Theyallagreetokeeptheirmouthsshutaboutit.“Soyeah,notreallyadate,butwedohavetopretendtobeacoupleinfrontofthecrewthatday.”
“That’sperfect,”saysDerekfromwherehe’snowraidingmyfridgeforthethirdtime.“That’llbeagoodplacetostartexploringsomelightphysicaltouch.Seeifanysparksstartflying.”
Mystomachtightensatthewordsphysicaltouch,andIimmediatelyfeellikeatwelve-year-oldscaredtogoonhisfirstdate.Evenworse,I’mgettingadvicefrompossiblythemostunqualifiedinstructors.“Whatcountsaslight?”
Derekpeeksoverthefridgedoorandlevelsmewithagrosssmirk.“Dependsonthewoman.”
Igrimace.“Okay,nevermind.Idon’twanttohearit.”
LawrenceshakeshisheadatDerek.“Ibetyourmama’ssoproudofhowyouturnedout.”
“Holdinghands!”Jamalshoutslikehe’sonThePriceisRightandistossingouthisfinalbid.
“Hand-holdingisgood.”Lawrencejotsitdownnexttonumberone.
“Winkather,”Dereksayswhilecasuallyleaningbackagainstthecounterandpeelingabanana.
Idon’tknowaboutthisone.Soundskindofdouchebaggy.“Whatdoyoumean?Justlikewinkrandomly?Idon’tthinkI’mawinker.”
“Yeah,youknow,saysomethingsexyfirst,andthenjust…”HegivesmethemostsuavewinkI’veeverseen.Itrytomirroritbackathimandhegrimaces.“Workonit.”
“Forgethisweirdwinking.Youneedtobrushastrayhairaway,”saysPrice.
Ilookathim.“Expound.”
“Don’tyouwatchmovies?Yougottawaituntilapieceofherhairfallsintoherfaceandthenuseyourfingerstobrushitbackfromhertemple.Here,watch.”Heleansforwardanddemonstratesonme,lookingdeepintomyeyesthenslowlybrushinganimaginarylockofhairbehindmyear.
“Damn,”saysLawrence.“Ifeltthatallthewayoverhere.”
Ipointattheboard.“Writeitdown.”
Heobeys,andweallgettoworkbrainstormingthemostromanticideaswecanthinkof,debatingbackandforthaboutwhatlevelofphysicaltouchbelongstowhichweekandwhetherafoodfightwouldactuallybeassexyinreallifeasitalwaysplaysoutinthemovies.There’salsoasketchyideaofpretendingthepowergetsknockedoutsoIhavetofilltheroomwithcandles.IhavenoideahowIwouldmakethatonehappen
Finally,afterourlistisfull,Lawrencewrites“firstrealmake-out”foritemnumber20.Derekwantedtowriteadifferentwordonthatline,butIwouldn’tlethim.That’snotwhatthisisaboutforme.I’mnottryingtoworkmywayintoBree’sbed;I’mtryingtoshowherthatIwantarelationshipwithher.IwanttobecommittedtoherinawayI’veneverbeenwithanyoneelse.
Laterthatnight,whenourwhiteboardiscompletelyfullofnotesandideas,Ihearmyfrontdoorhandlejiggle.TheonlyotherpersonbesidesmyhousekeeperwhohasakeyisBree,andit’swaytoolateforanyonetobecomingtocleanmyplace.
Ishootupoutofmychair.“It’sBree.Hidetheboard!”
Everyonehopsoutoftheirchairsandstartsscramblingaroundandbumpingintoeachotherlikeaclassiccartoon.Wehearthedoorshutbehindher,andthewhiteboardisstillstandinginthemiddleofthekitchenlikealit-upmarquee.IhissatJamal,“Getridofit!”
Hiseyesarewideorbs,headwhippingaroundinalldirections.“Where?Intheutensildrawer?Upmyshirt?!There’snowhere!Thatthingishuge!”
“LADYINTHEHOUSE!”Breeshoutsfromtheentryway.Thesoundofhertennisshoesgettingkickedoffechoesaroundtheroom,andmyheartracesupmythroat.
Hernameispastedalloverthatwhiteboardalongwithphraseslike“firstkiss—keepitlight”and“entwinedhand-holding”and“dirtytalkaboutherhair”.
Yeah…I’mnotsureaboutthatlastone,butwe’llsee.Basically,it’salllaidoutthere—themostincriminatingboardintheworld.IfBreeseesthisthing,it’salloverforme.
“Eraseit!”Pricewhispersfrantically.
“No,wedidn’twriteitdownanywhereelse!We’lllosealltheideas.”
IcanhearBree’sfootstepsgettingcloser.“Nathan?Areyouhome?”
“Uh—yeah!Inthekitchen.”
JamaltossesmealooklikeI’manidiotforannouncingourlocation,butwhatamIsupposedtodo?Standverystillandpretendwe’renotallhuddledinherehavingaBaby-Sitter’sClubre-enactment?Shewouldfindus,andthatwouldlookevenworseafterkeepingquiet.
“Justflipitover!”Itellanyonewho’snotrunninginacirclechasinghistail.
AsLawrenceflipsthewhiteboard,Pricetellsusalltoactnatural.Soofcourse,thesecondBreeroundsthecorner,Ihopuponthetable,Jamalrestshiselbowonthewallandleanshisheadonhishand,andLawrencejustplopsdownonthefloorandpretendstostretch.Derekcan’tdecidewhattodosohe’scaughtmid-circle.Weallhavefakesmilesplasteredon.Ouractingisshit.
Breefreezes,blinkingatthesightofeachofusnotactingatallnatural.“Whatchaguysdoing?”
Herhairisacutemessybunofcurlsonthetopofherheadandshe’swearingherfavoritejoggerswithoneofmyoldLASharkshoodies,whichshestolefrommyclosetalongtimeago.Itswallowsherwhole,butsinceshejustcamefromthestudio,Iknowthereisatightleotardunderit.Icanbarelyfindherinallthatmaterial,andyetshe’s
WeallrespondtoBree’squestionatthesametimebutwithdifferentanswers.It’shighlysuspiciousandlikelywhatmakeshereyesdarttothewhiteboard.Sweatgathersonmyspine.
“What’swiththewhiteboard?”sheasks,takingasteptowardit.
Ihopoffthetableandgetinherpath.“Huh?Oh,it’s…nothing.”
Shelaughsandtriestolookaroundme.Ipretendtostretchsoshecan’tsee.“Itdoesn’tlooklikenothing.What?Areyouguysdrawingboobiesonthatboardorsomething?Youlooksoguilty.”
“Ah—youcaughtus!Lotsofillustratedboobsdrawnonthatboard.Youdon’twanttoseeit.”
Shepauses,afadingsmilehoveringonherlips,andhereyeslookuptomeetmine.“Forreal—what’sgoingon?Whycan’tIseeit?”Shedoesn’tbelievemyboobexplanation.Iguessweshouldtakethatasacompliment?
MyeyescatchoverBree’sshoulderasPriceputshimselfoutofherlineofsightandbeginsmimingtheactionofgettinghisphoneoutandtakingapictureofthewhiteboard.ThislittleshowisdirectedatDerek,whoisstandingsomewherebehindme.
BreeseesmewatchingPriceandwhipsherheadaroundtocatchhim.Hefreezes—handsextendedlookinglikehe’sholdinganimaginarycamera.Hethentransformsthatintoaforearmstretch.“Sotightafterourworkouttoday.”
Hereyesnarrow.“That’sit.Letmeseetheothersideoftheboard.”
“No.”Irootmyselfinfrontofher.
“Whynot?Isitsomethingaboutme?”Shetriestoracearoundme,butIcatchherabdomenwithmyforearmandtwistheruptomeuntilherbackispressedagainstmychestlikewe’redoingsomesortofsalsadance.She’sscrappythough.Makingherwholebodygolimp,shewigglesoutofmyarmslikeafish.Fasterthanourtoprunningback,BreesprintspastPriceanddartsintothelivingroom.There’sonesmallcornerwallthatholdstherefrigeratorseparatingthetworooms,andifshegoesaroundit,she’llloopbackaroundtothekitchenontheotherside.
“She’sgoingaroundtherightside!”
Lawrenceheadstotheright,Iheadtotheleft.Webothmeetaroundtheothersideofthedividingwall,staringcuriouslyateachotherwhenwedon’tfindBree.AsuddenflashofmovementcatchesoureyeasBreejumpsupfrombehindthecouchandrushesbehindmyback,zippingherbodyaroundanobliviousPriceandintothekitchen.
Imakeitaroundthecornerjustintimetoseeherfacethewhiteboard.Derekstepsawayfromit.I’moutofbreathandmypalmsarefloodedwithperspiration.Thisisit.Breeisstaringwide-eyedatthedamningevidence,andIwanttojumpoutthewindow.HowamIgoingtoexplainthis?Allthisplanning.Alltheseyearsofpatientlywaiting,andTHISishowBreefindsoutIhavefeelingsforher.
“Bree…Icanexplain.”
Shelaughsoneloud,incredulouslaugh,pointingalazyfingerattheboardthenlettinghereyespopuptomeetmine.“Boobs.”
Mymouthopens,butIdon’tsayanything,becausesuddenlyI’mworriedmybrainjustmadethatup.“What?”
Hereyebrowsrise,andshelooksbothhorrifiedandamused.“Therereallyareboobsdrawnalloverthisboard.Justsomany…boobs.”
IswallowanddiscreetlylookatDerek.He’sgivingmeathumbs-upfrombehindBree’sback.I’malittlefrightenedathowquicklyhedrewthose.
Iletoutaheavybreathandshakemyhead,arelievedsmilecurvingmylips.“Yep.Well,Itriedtotellyou.”
She’slaughingnow.“Whyarethereboobsonhere?Areyouguysjustabunchoflittleboys?”
Derekoffershimselfupassacrifice.“Itwasme.Iwastryingtodescribetotheguys—”
Breecutshimoffwhilethrowingherhandintheair.“NOPE.LA-LA-LA!Don’twanttohearwhateverisabouttocomeoutofyourmouth.”Shewalksawaylookinglikeshewantstopluckhereyeballsoutandheadstowardme,pointingbackattheboard.“Eraseit,Derek!That’sgross.”
“Yes,ma’am.”
Shestopsinfrontofmeandpushesherfingerdirectlyintomychest.“Somethingfishyisgoingonhere,andI’mgoingtofigureitout.Butfirst…Ineedtouseyourwasherbecausetheoneinmybuildingsmellslikemustardagain.”Disturbingthatthisisnotthefirstorthesecondtimeithassmelledlikethat.
Anhourlater,theguysaregoneandI’mmovingBree’slaundryfromthewashertothedryerbecauseshelaiddownonmycouchandaccidentallyfellasleep.Iwon’twakeherup.Instead,I’llcarryherintotheroomsheaggressivelyremindsmeisonlytheguestroom,andshe’llstaythenight.Theguestroomnooneusesbesidesher.Theroomshe’dbepissedtofindanactualguestinbecauseallthestuffshe’slefthereovertheyearshasreallyaddedupandformedarealbedroom.
JustbeforeIgotobed,IgetatextfromDerek.It’sthepictureofthewhiteboardfrombeforeheerasedit.
Derek:Thisisgoingtowork.
Ihopehe’sright…Thestadiumisroaring.
It’sgamedayandwe’reallsuitedup,shouldertoshoulderinthetunnel,gatheredjustoutofsight,waitingforthego-aheadtotakethefield.Thisisahigh-stakesgame—everyplayoffgameis—sothefansareextrarowdy.There’saheavymixtureofchantingandbooing.
Jamalisbuzzingbesideme.Helovesthis.There’sanenergymeterabovehishead,andwitheverydecibelincreasefromthecrowd,itticksuphigher.Minelowers.Ihavetotuneitallout.
Heaccidentallynudgesmyarmwhilecirclinghisshoulders,tryingtogethimselfhypedup,andforsomereason,thatmakesmeirrationallyannoyed.Therestoftheteamisbehindusandbouncingontheirtoes,clenchingandrelaxingtheirfists,stretchingtheirneckssidetoside.We’reabunchofbullswaitingtostormthearena.
Fogstartsfillingtheair,andwe’llbetoldtotakethefieldanysecondnow.Itrytogetmyheadclear,focusonthisgamealoneandnotworryaboutwhatitmeansforus.Butit’shardnottofeelthepressure.Ialwaysfeelitlately,andit’sswirlingaroundmeinthismoment.NomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tpushitaway.
Ishutmyeyestight,tryingtoblockeverythingout,butmypadsfeeltight.Tighterthannormal.Constricting.
“Standby!”acameramanyells,lenspointedinourdirection.
Somuchnoise.Theroarofthecrowd,themusic,thedrummingofhandsagainstthestadiumseats—Iusedtoloveit,butlatelyIfeellikerunningtheoppositeway.Ican’tfigureoutwhy.Somethingjustfeelsoff,andwrong,andI’msweatingeventhoughit’sonlythirtydegreesout.
Ishakemyhead.
Jamalturnstowardmeandyellsovertheexcessivenoise,“Yougood,man?Youlookoff.”
Myheartisbeatinginmyears.IfeellikeI’mgoingtopassout,butIknowIcan’t.Ihavetostayonmyfeet.There’snotimeforwhateverthisfeelingiscreepingoverme.Idon’tgetnervous.IhelpgetourteamtoSuperBowls,notpassoutinthetunnelbeforeagame.ButmaybeIcanjustsitdownonthefloorrealquickandtakeabreather?
“Yeah,I’mgood,”IliebecauseJamalcan’tknowthatIfeellikeI’minsideatornado.Hedependsonme.Theyalldo.Everyonedoes.
Tryingtogainsomesortofcomposurebeforewehavetorunout,IshutmyeyesagainandthinkofBree.IseeherwidesmileandIhearherbubblinglaugh.Itellmyselfthatinroughlyfivehours,I’llbeflyinghomeandI’dbetmyentirefortuneshewillbetherewaiting.She’llthrowherarmsaroundmywaistandsqueeze.It’llbequietthere
Mychestloosensalittle.
“Okay,everyonegetready!”thecameramanyellsagain.Theannouncercomesoverthespeakertellingthejam-packedstadiumwe’reabouttotakethefield.Thecrowdsoundslikeanintenserainstormslammingdownonatinroof.It’sdrowningme.Rightnow,theonlythoughtgroundingmeisBree.Whatwouldshesaytomeifshewerehererightnow?Itwouldbesomethingperfect.Shealwayssaystheperfectthing.
“Three,two,one!Go,go,go!”
Werunoutofthetunnel,throughtheheavyfoganddirectlyintothechaos.TheonlywayIkeepmyselffrompullingaForestGumpandrunningallthewayhomeistopictureBree:nosescrunched,tonguestickingoutofthesideofhermouthwithabigthumbs-upjustlikeshedidtheveryfirsttimeItookthefieldinDaren’splacefouryearsago.Ichoosetohearherasawhisperinmyearinsteadoflisteningtotheroarofthecrowd.Youcandoit,Nathan.
Bree
Areyoukiddingmerightnow?!Onlygiganticallytallpeoplekeeptheir9×13bakingdishesintheverytiptopoftheircupboards.Nathanhadhisapartmentrenovatedayearagotofithisverticallyblessedstature,whichmeanstaller-than-averagecountertopsandcabinetrythattouchestheheavens.Wegetit,Nathan,you’retall!
Clearly,hedidn’tfactorinhisbestfriendbreakingintohisapartmentandbakingbrowniesforhimwhilehe’sflyinghomefromwinningaplayoffgame!Yep,theywon,butitwasatightone.Idon’tthinkIhaveanyfingernailsleft.Thescorewasn’ttheonlythingkeepingmeonedgethough.Nathanseemedreallyoffduringthefirstquarter.Hefinallysettledinandthrewfourtouchdowns,butstill,hedidn’tquiteseemlikehimself.
IwatchedthegamefromhiscouchandscreamedsoloudthroughmostofitthatIwon’tbesurprisedifhetellsmehecouldhearmeatthestadium.Therewasoneplaywherehegotsacked,areallyhardhitonafourthdown,andIheldmybreathuntilIsawhimstandupandwalkunassistedtothebench.Otherthanthatmoment,heplayedasolidgame.Idoubtanyoneelsewasabletonoticethedifferenceinhim,butIdid.Anytimethecamerazoomedinonhisface,Icouldseesomethinglurkinginhiseyesthatmademenervous.Itwasmorethanhisusualfocusedlook—helookedsad.Ormaybeitwastired?Orworried?
Idon’tknow,butI’mmakinghimbrowniestocelebrateandcheerhimup.Hewon’twanttoeatthembecauseofhisnutritionalregimen,butI’mpreparedtodowhateverittakestoremindhimthatthereislifeandfunandsweetthingsoutsideoffootballandbroccoli.
Honestly,Iusedtobejustlikehim.Iwoulddowhateverittooktobethebest,toperformmybest.Ididn’trealizehowburntoutIwasuntilIhadtotakeayear-longhealingbreak,onlydoingbasicphysicaltherapytoregainuseofmykneeaftersurgery.NotuntilIwasforcedtorestandseekoutnewwaystoentertainmyselfinlifewasIabletoseehowIhadn’tactuallybeenenjoyingballetanymore.Ihadbecomeatask-orientedrobotthatwasobsessedwithmakingittothenextlevel,nomatterthecost.
Now,Itrytonottakelifetooseriously.Ibelieveinworkinghardbuttakingbreaks.Resting.Goofingoffandeatingyummycarbsoccasionally.Yeah,theyalmostalwaysgotomyhips,butIchoosetobelieveitonlymakesthemmoresqueezable.
Theovenbeeps,tellingmeit’spreheated,andthebatterismixedandwaitingpatientlyonthecounter.AllIneednowisthatprettylittleglassdishsittingwayyyyyyupthere.Hey,God,it’sme,Bree—doyoumindhandingmethat9×13bakingdishrighttherebyyou?
It’sfine.I’lljustclimbuptherelikeallofusshortpeoplelearnedtodowhenwestoppedgrowingattheageoftwelve.Ihookmyheeluponthecounterthenuseeverymuscleinmybodytohoistmyselfupthere.Turnsout,thiswaseasierwhenIwastwelve.Ididn’tsnap,crackle,andpopasmuchbackthen.
I’mupherejustabouttograbthedishwhenIhearthefrontdooropenandclose.
“NO!”IyelldramaticallywhilequicklymovingthesmallerglassdishesoutoftheoneIneed,hopingIcanscrambledownwithmylootbeforeNathancanseemeuphereandmakefunofme.
I’mnotfastenough.
HeturnsthecornerandIpeerathimovermyshoulder,armsabovemyhead,fingersclutchingthebakingdish.He’swearingblackNikejoggersandamatchinghoodie.ASharksflat-billedhatsitsbackwardonhisfine,gorgeoushead.Nathanalwaysdressesinthefinesttailoredsuitstoarriveatgames,buthegoesforcomfortontheflightshome.Andbelieveme,comfortlooksgoodonhim.There’ssomethingaboutamannottryingatallbutstillexudingconfidenceandstrengththatisundeniablysexy.It’sinthewayhecasuallydropshisdufflebaginthemiddleofthefloor.Tosseshiskeysontothemarblecountertopwithalazyflickofhiswrist.Looksupatmeandtiltshisheadashis
Ohgeez,I’mfeelinghotterthanawidowedduchessinabodice-rippinghistoricalromance.
Heliftsabrowandgrins.“Hi.Whatchadoingupthere?”
“Justsomesightseeing.”
Hisgrindeepens.“DoyoualwaysstandonmycounterswhileI’mgone?”Hewalksthroughthekitchentostandbehindme.
Theairrippleslikeitalwaysdoeswhenhegetsnearme.Mustignoreit!Theproblemis,wehaven’tseeneachothermuchsinceweagreedtotheendorsementdeal,soI’vebeenabletoblockitoutofmyheadthatwe’regoingtohavetodateforthenextfewweeks.Butnow,atthesightofhimafterafullweekendaway,mythoughtsarescreamingHE’SBASICALLYYOURBOYFRIENDNOW—JUMPHIM!!!
Iturnbacktomytaskofremovingthebakingdish.“OnlywhenI’mtryingtosurpriseyouwithbrowniesforwinningaplayoffgame!Butyou’reearly!Iwasgoingtohavethesereadyandsmellinggloriousbythetimeyouwalkedin.Ievenpreparedawholesong-and-dancecelebrationtoo.Itwasreallygoingtobesomething.”Mytoneisallpout.
He’sstandingbehindmenow.Ihandhimthedishandhesetsitontheislandbehindhim,rightnexttothebatter.“I’mnotearly.It’snineo’clock.”
Myeyesbugout.“WHAT!Thatcan’tbetrue.”Ilookattheclockandsureenough,it’snineatnight.Whendidthathappen?
Hesmirksupatmeandleansbackagainstthecounter.I’mrelievedtoseethathisfacelooksnormalagain—noweirdsomethingfromthefieldstilllurkinginhiseyes.
“Hmm,”herumbleswithamischievoussmile.“Didsomeoneperhapstakealittlenap?”
“No!”Yes.Ionlymeanttoliedownforafewminutes,andthenthatsomehowturnedintofouryearsandIwokeupfeelinglikeIhadbeenteleportedtoanotherdimension.IthinkNathan’scouchislacedwithNyQuilbecausethisseemstohappentomealotoverhere.
Hepeeksoverhisshouldertothelivingroomwheretheevidenceisstrewnallovertheplace,asapparentasagruesomemurderscene.Acozyblanketrumpledonthecouch.Apillowfrommy—excuseme,THEGUESTROOMproppedagainstthearmrest.OneofNathan’sphonechargerspluggedinsothecordcouldreachbesidemypillow.
Iclaploudly.“Hey,lookatme!”
Mydistractiondoesn’twork.He’salreadychucklingsmuglyandcrossingthosebigarms.“Youtotallydid.Younappedhardandlosttrackoftimebecauseyouweresocomfyonmycouch.”
Myhandgoestomyhip.Ifeelpowerfuluphere.Isthiswhytallpeoplearealwaysonpowertrips?Igetitnow.
“Youdon’tknowme,”Isayinmybestre-enactmentofoneofmysassyteenagedancers.
“Younappedyourassoff.”
“Shutup.”SoIliketonapandtheyalwaysgetoutofhand—whataboutit?
Hestepsforwardsohe’sstandingrightinfrontofme.“Andtellme…whyisitthateverysingletimeI’moutoftown,Icomehometofindoutyou’vebeenspendingallofyourtimehere,nappingand”—hepeeksintothesinkandnoticesthepanIusedtoscramblemyeggsforbreakfastthismorningaftersleepingasolideighthoursintheguestroom—“living?”
Iknowwhathewantsfromme.Buthe’snotgoingtogetit.
“BecauseI’mworriedsomeoneisgoingtobreakinandstealallyourstuffwhileyou’reawayandIneedtoprotectit?”
Hemakesanobnoxiousbuzzersound.“Wrong.Wouldyouliketotryagain?”
Igaspwhenhewrapshisarmsaroundmythighsandeasilyliftsmeoffthecounter.Hepivotsusawayandslowlyletsmeslidetotheground.Mypowerdissolvesbythesecond.Everyinchofmeslidesdowneveryinchofhimduringthisdescent,andIthinkImightdie.He’slikeabrickwall,thisman.I’veneverbeenwrappedsotightlyinhisarms
Thisismyfavoritetripinmyhistoryoftrips.Alongtheway,Itakementalpicturesofallthesights.Ipasshishair,flippingoutadorablyfromunderhishat.Hisjetblackeyes,asfrighteningastheyarecomforting.Thefullcurveofhislowerlip.Thenot-so-subtlesuggestionofmuscledshouldersunderhishoodie.AndIfinallycomeinforasmoothlandingathiswide,sturdychest.I’llmakeascrapbookwithallofthesegorgeoussnapshots.
Iwanttotakeinadeepbreath,addasharpscenttothesememories,butI’mafraiditwillsoundtremblyifIdo.Ihavetobecareful.BecauseofTequila-gate,I’malreadyonthinice.IfIwanttokeepeverythingnormalbetweenus,Imustactnormal.
Ilookupandmeethiseyes.
BIGmistake.
We’restandingsoclose,andhisarmsarestillholdingme.Hesmiles,andmystomachgoestwisty.“You’realwaysherebecauseyouhatelivinginyoursuckyapartment.Admitit—youwanttomoveinhere.”
Iraisemychin.“Never.”Becauseit’snottrue.Istayherewhilehe’sgonebecauseImisshimandeverythinginheresmellslikehim.Well,andyeah,Iwanttolivehere,butonlybecausehealsoliveshere.Idon’tcareabouthisfancystufforhissoftsheetsorthereallydeepsoakingtubor…okay,fine,Ilikethosethingstoo.SotherealreasonIwanttolivehereisbecauseallofitcombinediseuphoria.
Speakingofeuphoria,whyarehisarmsstillloopedtightlyaroundme?ShouldItrytowiggleaway?Mybodywillnevercomply.It’salreadycurledupandmadeanewhomehere.Geez,hisfiveo’clockshadowishot.Ibetitwouldticklemyneck.
Nathan’seyesdartovermyshoulder,andhissmilegoeswicked.ThenextthingIknow,hisfingeriscoveredinbrowniemixandsmearingacrossmycheekbones,slowlyandwithcare.“Admitit,”hesayswiththatvillainousgrin.
Iaudiblyinhalelowandlong,blinkinglike,Ohnoyoudidnotjustdothat!
He’ssopleasedwithhimselfrightnow.“Youlooklikeaminiaturefootballplayer.”
Okay,wellclearlybrowniesareoffthetablefortonightbecausehejuststartedAWAR!
Ireachbehindme,dunkmyfingersintothemix,andthenstampthemontothecenterofhisface.Niceandslow.
“Never,”Iwhisperinfrontofhislipslikethebadguysalwaysdoinmovies.
Heblinks,browniebatterclingingtohislashes.Ican’tswallowasIwatchhimpullhislipsin,noddingslowly.Heletsgoofmetoputhishandsonthecounterinfrontofhim,hunchingoverlikeabeastpreparinghisplanofattack.
I’mnotanamateur,soIgrabthemixingbowlfullofbrowniebatterandmakeabreakforit.Except…I’mnotmoving.Mysockedfeetareglidingonthehardwoodbutgoingabsolutelynowhere.Whoputatreadmillinthisfloor?!
IlookovermyshoulderandseeNathanhasthebackofmyshirtpinchedbetweenhisfingers.AndnowI’mbeingslidbackward,closertohim.Thatlargehandreachesovermyshoulder,andIwatchitdip—hiswholeentirehand—intothebowlofbrowniemixI’mclutchingtightlyinfrontofme.There’snothingformetodobutclosemyeyesasheslowlypressesablobofstickybatterontotherightsideofmyface.Hairandall.That’sgoingtobefuntogetout
CanIjustsay,thisistheweirdest,slowestfoodfightanyonehaseverwitnessed?Andoddly,it’smakingmesuperhotandtingly.
Ispinaroundtofacehim,andit’smyturnnow.Itakeadipofbatterthensmearitacrossbothofhiseyebrows.HelookslikeEugeneLevynow,andIhavetopressmyfisttomymouthtokeepfromlaughing.Withasubtlegrin,heloadsuphisfingerthenusesthebattertopaintbrownlipstickacrossmylips—really…freaking…slowly.
Oh.
Okay,wellmyskinisonfirenow.It’sfine.I’mfine.Everythingisfine.ExceptI’mnotfinebecauseIdon’tknowwhatinthehellI’msupposedtomakeofthis!AmIcompletelyoffmyrockeroristhemoodjustalittlebitsexyrightnow?Itrynottoacknowledgethewayhisfingerislingeringonmymouthlikehehasnothingbuttime.Ishestandingcloserthanhewasaminuteago?Hishanddrops,andIlookup.He’sstaringatmymouth.He’sinchingcloser.Hisheadisdropping.
Mybreathcatches.
Heleansdownandsaysquietlyinfrontofmylips,“Thanksformakingmebrownies.ToobadIdidn’tgettotastethem.”
Someonehasclampedaclothespinovermywindpipe.Didhereallyjustsaythat?AmIstillnappingandimaginingthiswholething?BecauseitfeelsalotlikesomeparticularlywonderfuldreamsI’vehadaboutNathan.
HeandIhavealwaysbeenblatantlyhonestwitheachother(exceptforwhenI’mlyingthroughmyteethaboutmyfeelingsforhim),sothequestioncomesoutofmymouthbeforeIcanstopit.“Nathan,areyouflirtingwithme?”
He’snotshockedbymycandor.“Yeah.Iam.”
“Why?”Idon’tmeantosoundsogrossedout,butIthinkitcameoutthatway.I’mjustterrified.I’vegotmyheartonaverytightleash.Noexceptions.
“I’m…practicing.”
“Practicing,”Irepeat,myeyesbouncingtotheslashofhisfulllipsandbackuptohiseyesinamomentofweakness.Iwishthefactthathewascoveredinbrowniemixwasdeterring.It’snot.Ilovebrownies.
“Don’tyouthinkit’sagoodidea?”He’stalkingsoquiet,voicesogravelly.Ifeellightheadedhearinghiswordsthisway.“We’regoingtohavetoflirtinpublic,sowe’vegottogetusedtoitforittobeconvincing.”
Igivethatlogicalresponsethebrilliantreplyitdeserves.“Uh-huh.”
Asmallchucklerumblesfromhischest.“Youokay,Bree?”Hesoundsextraflirtynow.Amused.Andhislipsaredangerouslyclosetomybrownielipstick.Ahh!Hishandisonmyhip!Whendidthathappen?!Waitaminute—arewegoingtokissrightnow?Aretwofriendsabouttomakeoutinthiskitchencoveredinbrowniebatter?
That’swhenithitsme:thisisanegotripforhimrightnow.He’sonahighafterwinninganotherplayoffgame,andI’mnothingbutalittlemouseforthebigcattoplaywithinthekitchen.Wedon’tneedtopractice.He’sjustbeingaflirtyjerkandmessingwithmeduringhismachoegohigh.NOPE.That’snotgoingtohappen.JustlikeIdon’twantapityrelationshipwithhim,Idon’twantawell-she-was-there-and-it-was-convenientone-nightflingeither.Maybehecouldhandlesomethinglikethat,butIcouldn’t.Friendswithbenefitswillneverbeapartofourdescription,becauseitwouldkillmeforhimtowalkawayfrommeafterit’sallsaidanddone.It’sallornothingforme.
Nathancontinueshisgame.“Solet’spretendwe’reinpublicrightnow,andeveryoneiswatching.”He’sstillstaringatmylips.“We’vereallygottosellit.IfIsaid,ToobadIdidn’tgettotastethem,whatwouldyousaytothat?”
Ihavethestrongestwillpowerinalltheland.IhaveafreepasstoletNathanDonelsontastethebrowniesrightoffmylips,andinstead,Istickmyhandinthebatter,pulloutawholescoop,andsmearitaroundhisentirefaceuntilitcompletelyhideshisfeatures.There.He’sMudMannow.
Istepback,wipemyhandsonakitchentowel,andsmileproudly.“I’dsay,Nowyou’vegotplentytosample!Enjoy!”
Ithinkhe’sfrowningunderallthatbatter,butit’shardtotell.
Iturnawayandfleethekitchen,callingovermyshoulder,“I’mstayingintheguestroomtonightbecauseit’stoolatetowalkhomeandnootherreason!”
Boom.Statusquore-established.Friendshipsaved.Completelynormal.Everythingisabsolutelyandcompletelynormal.JustmynormalfriendNathanandnormalmehangingoutonanormaldaywhereeverythingisfine.
Exceptnewsflash:IT’SNOTFINE.
“Areyougoingtogetin?”Nathanasks,standingoutsidetheopendoorofthegiantblacked-outSUVwe’regoingtorideintogettothesetofthecommercialtoday.I’veneverriddeninitwithhim.Nathanonlytakesittospecialeventsandplaceswherehemightneedmoreprivacyandsecurity,placesIrefusetogowithhimbecausethosearethingsgirlfriendsdowithhim,notbestfriends.
Alongwiththenicemanwho’sgoingtodrivemearoundlikeI’mtheQueenofEngland,Nathan’shulkingbodyguardissittinginthepassengerseatwaitingtojumpoutand…Idon’tknow,peelarabidfanoffofNathan’sbodyifneedbe?ThisisanaspectofNathan’slifeI’mnotusedto.
I’mtryingtoconvincemyselfthisisanaveragesunnydayandI’msimplytakingadrivewithmyBFF,butthispumpkinfeelsanawfullotlikeacarriage,andit’smakingmewanttorunforthehills.Icanpracticallyseethegiantpencilinmymindflippingoverandsmudgingitseraseracrossthosebeautifullydrawnlinesthatdefineourfriendship.
“Bree?”Nathanpromptsagain,hisbrowsknittingtogetherinaconfusedsmile.“Areyouokay?”
“Hmm?”Iblink.“Yeah!Ohyeah.Totallygood.OfcourseI’mgoingtogetin.Iwasjustwonderingiftheycleanthosebenchseatsornot.”
Hechuckles,lookingatmelikeI’velostmymarbles.“Yeah,Iassumetheydooccasionally.Why?”
Ishrug.“Just…didn’twanttogetintherewithoutknowingforsure.Becausethey’resospacious,andpeoplecouldhavedonegoodnessknowswhatbackthere,and—”
NathanstepsforwardnowandstartspushingmebymylowbackintotheSUV.“Thisismypersonalvehicle,Bree.Iownit.There’snothingfunkyonthoseseats,don’tworry.Now,pleasegetinorwe’regoingtobelate.Andsmile,there’sapaparazzioveronthatcornercatchingeverybitofyourindecision.”
IsmilereallybigandscaryupatNathantomakehimlaughandshowhimjusthowmuchIcareaboutpaparazzi.
Hegivesmehisfull-teeth,cheek-dimpleslaughthatinflatesmyhearttensizesandshakeshishead.“You’reallfunandgamesnowuntilyourealizethatphotographerwillhavezoomedindangerouslycloseonyoursillyfaceandwillsplashitallovernewsstandstomorrowdeclaring,BreeCamdencrackingunderthepressuresofnewfoundfame!”
“Idon’tthinktheywouldbeallthatwrong,”IsaybeforeIhopintotheSUV,slideovertothefarside,andsuctionmyselftothewindow.Ohmygoshthereisnothingnormalaboutthisvehicle.Theleatherisbuttersoft,andthere’sanadjacentbenchseatthatfacesthissidewithaflatscreenTVbehindit.Myfingersglideoverapanelofbuttonsonmyarmrest,andafterIpressone,warmlightsfillthespace(moodlights)andmyseatstartstoreclinewithafootrestpoppingout.
IturnwideeyestoNathan,andhe’slaughingsilently.“You’relikeakidinhere.”
“Ifeellikeakidinhere!I’mnotsupposedtobeallowedinfancyplaceslikethis.Nathan,I’llspillsomethingonthesemillion-dollarseats.”Isetmyseatuprightagainandcrossmyhandsprimlyinmylap.
“Youdon’thaveadrink.”
“Doesn’tmatter.It’llhappensomehow.Youknowme—Ican’tbetrustedwithluxuriousthings.”
“It’sonlystuff,Bree.Icouldn’tcareless.Spillanythingyouwantinhere.”Hiseyesarecrinkledinthecorners,butwhatInoticemostarethedarkcircleshoveringunderthosejetblackpools.
Itiltmyheadandreachuptosoftlytapafingerundereachofhiseyes.“You’retired.”
Hishairisstillslightlydampbecausehe’sfreshfrompractice.NathanhadtowakeupatfiveAM,workafulldayofhisusualpracticeandmeetings,puttinghisbodythroughacompletebeating,andnowattheendofthedayisgoingtofilmacommercialforseveralhourswhenheshouldberestingandrecuperating.
Hetakesmywristandsoftlywrapshisfingersaroundit.Ifeelhistouchlikeit’swrappingaroundmyheart.“I’mokay.”
“You’reoverextendingyourself.Wedidn’thavetosayyestothiscommercial.”
TheSUVstartsmoving.Nathanlooksdownatmywristandlowersitbutdoesn’tletitgo.We’reonepositionshiftawayfromholdinghands.“Iwantedtodothecommercial.It’llbegoodforbothofus.”
Forme.Itwillbegoodformeiswhathemeans.Becauseyes,it’sgoodforNathan’simage,butlet’sbereal,hedoesn’tneedthemoney.Ido.IwantthismoneysoIcanpayhimback
Butthenanotherthoughtpopsintomyhead.Whatthen?WhatismynextstepafterpayingNathanback?Somethingabouthimbuyingthestudioandmerealizinghe’sbeenpayingpartofmyrentalltheseyearshasshakenuparestlessnessinme.It’smademealittleantsyandcravingmoreformystudio.Whichcompletelyterrifiesme.Idon’tlikecravingmore,becauseIdon’tlikewhoIwasbackwhenallIdidwasstriveformore.ContentmentiswhatIneed.IfIhadpossessedevenjustanouncemorecontentmentbackinhighschool,Iwouldn’thavespentallofmytimeandenergytryingtogetintoJuilliard.Iwouldhavegonetoparties.Madefriends.Maybeevenhadahobbyordesiresoutsideofdancethatwouldhavekeptmefromspiralingintosuchadarkplacewhenmyoneandonlydreamgotsnatchedaway.
IshouldbegratefulforthehelpmyfriendhasgivenmeandfindtangiblewaystomakethestudioIcurrentlyhavebetter.Butinstead,whentryingtofindnewwaystonothavetocompletelyrelyonhisgenerosity,Iaccidentallystumbledacrossanewdream.Onewheremystudioisnotscentedwithpepperonis,andwhereitcouldofficiallyfunctionasanon-profit,abletoacceptmorestudentswhonormallycouldn’tafforddanceclasses.
TheonlywayanyofthiswouldbepossibleisifIwasgrantedthespaceinTheGoodFactory.Theproblemis,I’veputallmyeggsinonebasketbefore,anditdidnotturnoutinmyfavor.I’mterrifiedtowantsomethingjustasmuchagain.
Nathan’sphonerings,andheletsgoofmesohecananswer.“It’smymom,”hesays,lookingalittlewearybeforepastingonatightsmileandanswering.“HeyMom,what’s—”There’sapauseashelistens,followedbyseveralmhmmsandsures.Hiseyesshuttightforamomentlikehe’sinpain,andthenheopensthemagain.Icanonlyimagineshe’saskingforsomethingthattakestoomuchfromhim.
Nathanhasaproblemsayingno—especiallytohisparents.They’vealwaysexpectedalotofhimandhaveneverbeenhesitanttoaskforalottoo(andgivenothinginreturnbesidescriticism).Theyalwayscommithimfortheircharityeventswithouttrulyaskinghim,manipulatehimintodroppingbytheirholidaypartiesjustsohecanbeseenandsignautographs,andevenaskhimtofloattheirlavishvacationsbecausetheyknowwhensomethingispaidforonthefamousNFLquarterback’sblackcard,itgetsthemintoawholeothersphereofluxurythaneventheirpaddedbankaccountscanachieve.Theyparadehimaroundlikeatigeratthecircusandthenwhiphimwhenhegetstiredsohe’llperformbetterandkeepthatsocialstatuscominginforthem.YetanotherreasonIneverwantNathantofeellikehehastotakecareofmefinanciallyorcarrymeonhisarmtospecialevents.That’snotwhatheistome.
Iwanttoripthephoneoutofhishandandtellthiswoman,Sorry,Nathanisnolongeravailableforyourconstantsoulsucking.Trytakingupembroideryinstead.Butit’snotmyplacetoprotecthimfromhismom.
Afteraminute,hehangsupandsighs.
“Funconversation?”Iasksarcastically.
Heshrugs.“Notabigdeal.ShejustwantedtoseeifIcouldflyhomeshortlyaftertheseasontoshowuptosomecharityeventforthemattheircountryclub.”
“Andyoutoldheryou’llbetakingsometimeofftore-energize?”Iask,eventhoughIalreadyknowtheanswer.
Helooksdownathisfidgetinghands.“Itoldheryes.Ihavetoseethematsomepointanyway,somightaswelldosomethingforagoodcausewhileI’mthere.”
Ihatethathedoesthis.Nathanisconvincedhe’sSuperman,and…well,I’mnotcompletelyconvincedotherwise,butIknowhehasfleshandbloodliketherestofus,andtheloadhe’scarryingcan’tbesustainedforlong.Idon’twanttoseehimcrashandburn.Iwanttostraphimdownandmakehimrest.
“How’sworklife?”heaskssoftly.
“Don’tthinkIdon’tknowthatyou’residesteppingmyconcern.”
Hegrinsandleanshisheadbackagainsttheheadresttostareatme.“Hopingto.Sowhat’snewatthestudio?Howarethegirls?”
Isettlebackagainsttheseat,thankfulthatsomeofournormalcyhaspermeatedthestrangenessofthisluxuriousenvironment.Thisfeelsmorelikeus.IfIclosemyeyes,Icanalmostimaginewe’reonhiscouchathome.
“It’sallbeengood.ImanihasanewboyfriendwhoeveryoneandtheirbrothercantellSierraisjealousof,and…”I’mmomentarilybreathlessatthesightofhissoftgenuinesmile.Hetrulycareswhat’shappeningwiththegirlsinmyclassjustlikeIdo,anditmakesmyhearttwist.“…Hannah’sdadgotlaidoffagain,butIwasabletowaivehertuitionfeessoshecanstillattendclassbecauseacertaingenerousbenefactorboughtthebuildingandloweredmyrent.”
Ilookoutthewindowandseeacarfullofteenagegirlsridingbesideus,keepingtheircaratthesamespeedasours.Theoneinthepassengerseatistellingustorolldownthewindowsotheycanseewho’sinhere.Gutsy.Foralltheyknow,it’sanoldbaldingsenator.MyeyessliptoNathan.Notanoldbaldingsenator.
“Becauseofyou,thesegirlsareabletocontinuetopursuetheirdreams.AndknowingwhatIknownowabouthowyou’vebeenhelpingwithmyrentallalong,IrealizeIneverwouldhavebeenabletokeepthedoorsopenforthemwithoutyou.Sothankyou.”
He’sfrowningnow.NotthelookIwasexpectingafterthatspeech.“Youkillme,youknowthat?”
“Withmydevastatinggoodlooks?”Iflashhimanover-the-topdebutantesmile.
Hedoesn’tlaughatmyquip.“Youkillmewhenyoudon’tseeyourownworth.Bree,thosedoorsareonlyopenbecauseofyou.Thosegirlsareachievingtheirdreams100%becauseofyouandtheworkyouputintotheirlives.IfIhadn’tboughtthebuilding,Iknowwithoutadoubtyouwouldhavefoundadifferentwayonyourown.Probablywouldhaveworkedasecondjobjustsoyoucouldcontinuedoingyourfirstjob!Sono,don’tgivemethatcredit.AllIdidwasusemoneythatwouldhavebeensittingaroundcollectingdust.”
Iswallowandclearmythroat,notenjoyingthesuddenseriousnessofthisconversation.Evenmore,Idon’tlikethathiswordssettleapackofhotcoalsinmyheart.It’sglowingandwarm.Nathanmakesmefeelseeninawaynooneelsedoes.
Butstill,thisconversationfeelstoointimateforournormalvibes,soIchucklelightlyanddeflect.“You’remybestfriend.It’syourjobtosaystufflikethat.”
“Bree—”
Icuthimoff.“Hey,IhavesomethingIneedtogiveyoubeforewegettotheset.”
“Nowwho’ssidestepping?”
Iignorehim,digthepieceofpaperoutofmypurse,andhandittohim.HelooksatthefoldedslipofpaperlikemaybeI’vewipedathousandboogersonit.Ishakeitinfrontofhimwithalaugh.“Here!Justopenit.”
“Whatisit?”
“It’salist.”
Hegivesmealookthentakesthesheetofpaper.It’sminisculeinhisbighand.Nathangingerlyunfoldsitlikeit’sasnowflakebutthenscoffsbeforehereadsitaloud.“Rulesforsurvival.”Hiseyesareannoyedastheyslidetome.“Alittledramatic,don’tyouthink?”
Inodtowardthepaper.“Keepreading!It’simportant.Ifwe’regoingtomakeitoutofthisfakerelationshipwithourfriendshipintact,wehavetohavesomegroundrules.”IscribbledthislistafterNathan’slittlepracticeexercisetheothernight.Ican’thandlemoresituationslikethat,soit’stimetoputsomeparametersinplacetoensureitdoesn’thappenagain.
IwatchcloselyasNathan’sdarkeyesscanoverwhatIwrote.Hisjawflexesandheclearshisthroat.“Nokissing.Notouchingwhennotinpublic.Absolutelynosnugglingever.”I’msilentlymouthingthewordsashereads.“NoflirtingwhenaloneNo…”Hiswordstrailoffonthislastone,andhetuckshislipsintohismouthtolickthembeforecontinuing.“Nohanky-panky.”Hisgazeswingstome,andIcantellhe’stryingtoschoolhisexpressionsohedoesn’tsmile.“Whatexactlyishanky-panky?”
Irollmyeyes.“Youknowwhatthatmeans.Evenmygrandmaknowswhatthatmeans.”
Heshrugslightly.Soinnocent.“Isitagame?Or…Idon’tknow…adancemove?You’llhavetofillmeinhere.Andpleasebeasspecificaspossible.”
Islaphishardbicep.“Stop!Youknowwhatitmeans.”Mycheeksareturningpinkforsomereason.
Heraisesaneyebrow.“Well,Ihaveanidea,butyouknow,itleavesalotopenforinterpretation.Hanky-pankyisveryvague.Imightthinkitmeansold-fashionedsex,butthenifthat’strue…itmeanssecondbaseistotallyupforgrabs.Maybeeven—”
“NATHAN!”Mystomachbarrel-rollsrightoutofthisSUVbecauseIdonotwanttohearwhat’sabouttocomeoutofhismouthnext.Wedonottalklikethis.Ever.Suddenlyitdoesn’tfeellikewe’reonhiscouchanymore,andIneedtobringusbackdowntolevelground.“No…sexual…anything!”Istrugglesayingeachofthosewords.“Anddon’tbesuchajokesteraboutallofthis.I’mserious.”
Don’tgetmewrong—I’dlovenothingmorethanhanky-pankywithNathan,butIknowitwouldn’tmeanthesamethingstous.Iwouldneverbeabletoseparatemyfeelingsfromtheact.
Hehearsthesharpnessinmytone,andhisamusementdiesalittle.“Iknow.I’mjustplaying.Nohanky-panky…Igotit.Buttherestofthis…”HescansthepaperonemoretimebeforeshakinghisheadandRIPPINGITUP!Myrulesarenothingbutconfettifallingtothefloornow.
Mymouthfallsopen.“Whydidyoudothat?!”
“Becauseit’sridiculous.We’regoingtotouch.We’regoingtokiss,Bree.”
Myheartstops.Hesaidthosewordssomatter-of-factly.Withouthesitationorquestion.Justlike,Theselipswillbetouchingthoselips,nobigdeal.Itwouldbeabigdealforme.
“No.Nokissing.”
“Coupleskiss.Ifwe’regoingtosellthisrelationship,we’regoingtoneedtokissinpublicatsomepoint.”
Isigh,apartofmeknowinghe’sright.“Okay,onlyiftheabsoluteneedarises,wecanshareaclosed-mouthkiss.Justaquickpeckforthecameras.”I’mnotsurewhatwouldhappentoourcontractifthefakepartofourrelationshipisdiscovered,andIdon’twanttofindout.Ineedthatmoney.
Hedoesn’tagree,justpicksuptheshredsofmypeaceofmindandtossesthemintoacupholder.Hepullsouthisphone.“Actually,allofthisremindsme—weneedtotakeapicturetogetherandpostit.Anofficial‘we’reacouple’photoforsocialmediatooohandaahover.”
Ohright.Thatwasinthecontract—abundantsocialmedialovey-dovey-ness.Heturnsthecameraaroundtoselfiemodeandaimsitinfrontofourfaces.Ileantowardhimsoourheadsarealmosttogetherandcheeseitup.
“Whyaren’tyoutakingthephoto?”Isaythroughmysmilingteeth.
“Becausethisposemakesuslooklikebestfriends.”
Duh.That’swhatweare.
Idropmysmileandturnmyfacetohis.“Okayyyy.Well,whatshouldwedothen?”
Hebitesthesideofhislipashecontemplatessomethingandthenunbucklesmyseatbelt.
“Hey!Unsafe!”
Nathanloopshisarmaroundmymiddleand,beforeIcanprotest,haulsmeupontohislap.HISLAP!Iguessthatthrowsmynotouchingwhennotinpublicruleoutthewindow.Icanfeelhissolidchestagainstmybackandhisstrongthighsundermine.Heleansinandhisbreathwarmsmyneck.Mybodydoesn’tknowhowtoreacttothis,soitjustburstsintoflames.“Wh-what’shappeningrightnow?”
“Justrelax.Pretendyoulikeme.”Ohtheirony.
HisnosepressesintothesideofmyjawandIcanfeelhiseyelashesbrushagainstmyskinashiseyesclose.Heholdsthecameraupinfrontofus,andmyterrifiedexpressionismirroredbackatme.Eyeswide.I’madeerintheheadlights.ButNathanlookssonatural,solikeamanenjoyingthefeelofawoman—nothisbestfriend.Ihearhimbreatheindeep,andthehintofasmiletouchesthecornerofhismouth.He’sagoodactor.BeforeIrealizeit,myheadistiltingintohis,myeyesareclosing,andmylipsarecurvingupontheirown.
Hesmellsgood.
Sodamngood.
IwanttofillapoolwithhisscentsoIcanswimaroundinitalldaylongwhilesippingamargarita.
Sittingonhislap,Ifeeltiny.Likehecouldwraphisarmsaroundmeandshieldmefromahurricane.SomanysensationsflitthroughmybodyasNathan’sbreathfansagainstmyskinandhisarmtightensaroundmywaist.Hislipsdon’tmakeanyattemptsatcontact.He’sjusthoveringhereinthisnearnesswe’veneverhadbefore,foreheadandnosepressingintomelikeanaffectionatenuzzle.
Myskinissinged,andbeforeIhavetimetoworrythatI’mlettingmyselfenjoyhistouchtoomuch,theSUVcrawlstoastop.Nathanpullshisfaceawayfrommineandcoldairrushesoverme.Actingcomplete.
“Ithinkwegotafewgoodones.Whatdoyouthink?”heaskswithalmostnoemotioninhistone.ZerohintsthathewasfeelinganythingclosetowhatIwasfeeling.
Stillperchedonhislaplikethisismynewthrone,Itakehisphoneandlookcloselyatthephotos.Ican’tformanywordsbecauseIalmostcan’tbelievewhatI’mlookingat.That’snotmeandNathaninthispicture.Thisisacouplewho’sheadoverheelsforeachother.
IknowwhyIseethatblissfullookonmyface,butwhyisitonhistoo?
Iclearmythroat.“Yeah.Thisworks.”
Islideoffhislapandtugatthebottomhemofmyshirt,tryingtoputmyselfbackinorderbeforeweleavetheSUV
Thedrivercomesaroundtoopenourdoor,andjustasNathanisslidingout,myphonepingswithanalert.It’sanewtaggedphotonotificationfromInstagram.Openingit,IseethatNathanalreadypostedthephotoalongwithacaptionthatreads:TheonlywomanIwant.
Nathanhopsoutfirstandholdshishandoutformetotake.Ilookupintohiseyes,tryingdesperatelytonotreadtoomuchintoallofthis,butalreadyIfeelmyhearttrytotakelibertiesIsworeI’dneverallowit.
“Stillwithme,BreeCheese?”
Idon’tknow…amI?Nathanisholdingmyhand.
He’s.Holding.My.Hand.
Fingersintertwined,carry-my-backpack-on-the-way-to-science-levelhand-holding.Ifeelagigglebubblinginmystomachasmyfeettrytomatchhislongstridesintothesoundstagewherewearefilmingthecommercial.It’sridiculous.Hisskinissocallousedandhot.IsthiswhateveryfootballfeelswhenNathanholdsit?Wonderful,nowI’llcomparefuturemenandtheirless-than-adequatehandstoNathanandhisbigprimalmitts.
It’stimetogetagriponreality.ThatwasadisorientingdrivewithNathan’sfacesmooshedupnexttomine,sonaturallyI’malittleoff-kilter.Butit’stimetocentermyselfandpreparetobeNathan’sfakegirlfriend.Emphasisonthefake,Bree.Icandothis.Icanholdhishandalldayandnotletitgotomyhead.Plus,I’llprobablyhatebeinginthespotlightwithhimtoday.I’lllettheexperienceserveasaperfectexampleofwhywewillneverbearealcouple.
“Youokay?”Nathanasks,feelingmyspiraltelepathically.
“Soooookay.”
Hesmirks.HeknowsI’mfullofcrap.Heturnstofaceme.“Itmightbeoverwhelminginthere.Therewillbealotofdirectionstofollowandpeoplewhowillwantyourattention.Justrememberthattheyareallhereforyou.”
“Youmeantheyareallhereforyou.”
Heshakeshisheadslowly.“I’mnottheonewhobroketheinternet.Theywantedmetodateyou.That’swhywe’rehere,becausetheworldfellinlovewithBreeCamden.Noneofthiswouldbehappeningifitwereanyoneelse.”
Goodness.Whenheputsitlikethat,thiswholesituationsortofhitsdifferently.I’mnotsureIlikeit.Itrytobrushoffthepartsofmethataregrabbingontohiswordsfordearlife.MyheartfeelslikevanillaicecreammeltingoverahotchocolatebrownieatthethoughtofpeoplewantingmeandNathantogether.IwanttoringKelseyupreallyquickandyellsomethingobnoxiousatherlike,YOUSNOOZE,YOULOSE.
ThedoorstothesoundstageopenandNathan’stallandganglymanager,Tim,stepsoutlookingfrantic.Thenagain,hesortofalwayslooksthisway.“Oh,you’rebothhere!Good.”Helooksdownathiswatchthenwavesusthroughthedoor.“They’realmostfinishedsettinguplighting,soyouhavejustenoughtimetogetintohairandmakeup.”
We’refollowinghimdownacoldhallwaynowashecontinuestotalkamileaminute.Nathansqueezesmyhand.
“Iexplainedtothecrewthatyou’reonanincrediblytightscheduleandtheyhavethreehourswithyoutops.Notaminutemorebecauseyouhavepracticeinthemorning.Also,there’sasearedsalmonandkalesaladdinnerforyouinthedressingroom,Nathan.I’vealreadytoldhairandmakeupyouhavetoeatwhilethey’reworkingonyou.”
Nodinnerforme?See,it’salreadyhappening—I’mseeinghowmiserableitwouldbetodateNathan.EveryonewillfawnoverhimandI’llfadeintotheshadows.Thisisgood.Keepitup,world.
Timbarelytakesabreathbeforehecontinues.“Thefullscriptisinyourdressingrooms,butthegistofitissimple.YoutwoarewalkingthrougharestaurantandwomenarerushingupandwritingtheirnamesandnumbersonNathan’sshirt.Hetugsyouintoahallwaytoescapethem,pullsaTide-to-Gopenfromhisbackpocket,andhandsittoyou.YouguysexchangeflirtylooksandthenBreeerasesthenameswiththewaveofherpen—inthestyleofIDreamofJeannie.”
Ohman.That’scheesy,butIcanseehowfanswouldeatitup.It’stheperfectnodtomydrunkenspeech.Thespeechthatwillhauntmefortherestofmylife.
Amomentlater,TimdropsusatadressingroomthathasNathan’snameontheoutside.We’restillholdinghands,andIrealizeI’mclingingtoNathanlikehe’sabuoyinthemiddleoftheocean.
“Smile,”Timsays,snappingaquickpictureofuswithhisphone.“I’llpostthistoyourstories,Nathan.”
ThedooropenstoacutesmilingblondewithatighttopandoverflowingcleavagethatIadmittedlyam100%jealousof.
Timlooksbored,blesshim.“Nathan,thisisAubrey.She’llbedoingyourhairandmakeup.”
“HeyAubrey,”NathansayswithagrinandanodthatIknowisfakebutAubreyclearlyeatsupbecauseherporesstartemittingsunbeams.Andreally,Igetit.He’ssohugeandridiculouslyhot,andhisdeepgrowlyvoiceisintoxicatingifyou’reintoallthatkindastuff,butseriously,Aubrey,pickyourheartupoffthefloorandgettowork.He’smine!Uh,wait,what?No.
He’sfakemine.
Fakefakefakefakefake.Notreal.Ifourrelationshipwasapurse,itwouldbeaProdaandsoldtosomeoneoutofthetrunkofacar.
Aubreybounceslightlyonherfeet.Shecan’twaittogetherhandsonNathan.“Ifyouwanttocomeoninandtakeaseat,wecangetstarted.”Thatsparkleinhereyemakesmethinkshe’sgoingtogetstartedonherlapdanceratherthanhairandmakeup,andIconsiderjuttingmyfootoutandtrippingher.Yeah,I’mthejealoustype.Poorthinghasn’tevendoneanythingwrongandI’mplottingherdemise.IfeellikeIshouldapologizetothisprofessionalwomanfordegradingheractions.Myinnerterritorialcavewomanisgettingoutofcontrollately,andIneedtogetagrip.
Timpullsmefrommystormyattitude.“Bree?Let’skeepwalking.You’redownthisway.”
ThemomentIhavetodropNathan’shand,mystomachtwists.Ididnotanticipatebeingthisnervoustoleavehisside.It’sjustthatIhavenoideawhatI’mdoing,andI’mnotevengivenachancetolookbackatNathanbeforeTimhasuspracticallyjoggingdownthehallway.
“Iknowyoudon’thaveamanager,soNathanhasmeactingasyourstoday,ifthat’sokaywithyou?”Hedoesn’tgivemeachancetoactuallyanswer.“Yourdinnerisalsoinyourdressingroom,butNathanhadmeorderyouchickentacosfromChipotle,extraguac.Wasthatright?”Heflingsopenadressingroomdoorandthesmellofdelicioustacosslapsmeintheface.Alittlesmilecurlsmylipsbecause…Iwasn’tforgotten.Nathanthoughtaheadtohavethemcatermyfavoritemeal.
“That’sperfect.”
“Great.ThisisDylan”—hepointstowardasmilingguywholooksaboutmyageandislayingoutmakeupbrushesonthebeautycounter—“andhe’sgoingtobedoingyourhairandmakeup.Joywillbebyinabittodropoffyourwardrobe.Eatfast—wehaveanhouruntilyou’reneededonset.Harrison,thedirector,andCindy,theproducer,willbebyatsomepointtotalktoyouaboutthescript.Don’tpostanyphotosofanythinghappeningtoday,leavethatuptome.Andifyouneedsomething,askmeandnooneelse.Doyouneedanything?”
Ishakemyheadquickly,feelingalittleshellshockedfromthattornadoofaspeech.
“Good.I’llbebackintwenty.She’syoursnow,Dylan.”Beforehefullywalksoutoftheroom,Timstopsandturnsbacktome.“Oh,andBree?I’mgladyouandNathanaretogether.He’sbetterwithyou.”IguessTimhasn’tbeenfilledinontheactualtermsofourrelationshipandthefactthatweareProda.
Timdisappearsthroughthedoor,andIletoutadeepbreath.
Dylanchuckles.“Areyoureadyforyournamequiznow?Listeveryonehejustmentionedinperfectorderoryou’rekickedofftheset.”Thesparkleinhiseyesgiveshimaway.
“Umm,wasitSam,Brittney,andTina?”Ianswerincorrectlyonpurpose.
Helaughsagainandstepsforwardtoextendhishand.“Ding-ding-ding!Correct.Andnowyouwinadelicioustacodinner!”
“Iwassortofhopingforacar,”Isaywithabummedfaceasheguidesmetothemakeupchair.
“Well,you’reinluck!Thisextraguacyourboyfriendrequestedforyouhasthesamevalueasacar.Maybeyoucouldpawnitforextracashorsomething?”
Ilovehim.Thesurestwaytomyheartistoplayalongwithbadjokes.He’salmosthelpingmeforgetI’monasetrightnowandmywholeworldasIknowitisturningupsidedown.
“I’mBree,bytheway,”Isayasheplopsaglorious-smellingChipotleboxinmyhands.
“Oh,Iknow.Evenifyournamewasn’tplasteredoutsidethedoorandIhadn’tbeengivenaphotoofyouaheadoftime,I’dstillknowthosedimplesanywhere.You’vebeenallovermyInstagramandTwitterfeedlately.”Heimmediatelystartsslidinghisfingersthroughmyhairinaninspectingandappreciatingsortofway.“Iwon’tevenpretendI’mnotslightlyobsessedwithyouandyourcurlsanddimples.Ialmostdiedwhentheyhiredmetodoyourhairandmakeup.WhenItoldmyboyfriend,hewassojealoushisskinactuallyturnedgreen.”
IlaughandmakeaweirdfacebecauseA)Idon’tknowhowtotakecompliments,andB)Hecan’tbeserious.I’mthemostaveragepersonwho’severwalkedthefaceoftheearth.
“These?”Ibatmyhandatmycurls.“Bleh.They’reridiculouslyhardtotame.”
Helooksoffendedasheclapsahandoverhisheart.“Whosaidanythingabouttaming?!Whywouldanyonewanttosubduethesegorgeouscurls?No,I’mplanningtoputevenmorepepintheirstep.”Dylanmovesbehindme,eyeingmycurlsfromallanglesinthatintensewayonlyhairstylistsdowhentheyareimaginingwhatcouldbe.It’salittleterrifying.
HenarrowshisgazeandtiltshisheadasItakeahugebiteofmytaco.
“Youknow?Ithinkwe’llleanintothewholegirl-next-doorlook.Americalovesyousowe’llkeepyoulookingsweetasapplepie.”Heleansinclose,eyestwinkling.“Although,ifyou’redatingNathanDonelson,Idon’tthinkanyoneexpectsyoutobetooinnocent.”
Ialmostspitmytacoout.Instead,Isuckitintomywindpipeandsettleforalife-threateningcoughingfit.Dylanpatsmyback,andmyfaceturnsbrightred.
HesmilesliketheCheshireCatoncemycoughingisundercontrol.“Iknewit,”hesays,goingtoworkonmyhairandspritzingitwithwaterthenpullingsomeproductsoutofhisgigantictravelkit.“Thatexofhistriedtomakehimlookbadwiththearticle,butnoonebelievedit.There’stoomuchgossipthatsuggestsotherwise.So,behonest,nouselyingtomebecauseIcanreadapokerfacefromamileaway—he’safreakinthesheets,isn’the?”
Mystomachjumpsoutofanairplane.IknownothingaboutNathaninthatcapacity.Wearenoteventhekindoffriendswhojokearoundaboutit.WekeepthatconversationzippeduptightbecauseIthinksubconsciouslywebothknowtherearejustsomeboatsyoucan’trockinafriendship.Therefore,IhavenoideahowmuchNathan’sboatrocksatnight.
ButI’mhis“girlfriend”andI’mexpectedtoknow.
IwidenmyeyesandputonwhatIhopeisasultrysortofasmile.LikeI’mpicturingamemoryofNathan’smuscley,tanbodywrappedupinwhitebedsheetswiththesunshiningoverhisshoulders.Actually…Iampicturingitprettyeasily.“Ohyeah,totalfreakinthesheets.Arealtiger.Earnedhisstripesforsure.NoonehaseverblownmymindlikeNathanDonelson.”
“Well,that’sgoodtoknow.”
NO!ThatvoicedidnotcomefromDylan.Itcamefrommybestfriendleaningagainsttheopendressingroomdoorlookinglikeasmugdevil.
Iinhalemytacoonagaspagain,andsuddenly,DylanhasmyhandsovermyheadtryingtomakesureIdon’tdieinthisdressingroom.ButIwantto.Justletmego,Dylan!Icanseethelight!
Nathanswoopsinbesideme,crouchingdownandchucklingwhilepattingmyback.“Youokay?Sorry,Ididn’tmeantostartleyou.”
IgivemythroatonelastepicclearingthenforcemyselftomeetNathan’seyes.Hishairisnowtousledandshiningtoperfection,andhe’swearingblackdresspantsandawhitebutton-downtuckedin.Thetopfewbuttonsareundone,andI’mgoingtochokeagain.
“Yep!Goodtogo.Dylanistakinggoodcareofme.”
Nathan’sdarkeyesglint.“Nottoogood,Ihope.That’smyjob—andaccordingtowhatIjustheard,I’mdoingitreallywell.”
Dylanmakesastrangledsquealingsoundthenturnsawaytogiveussomeprivacywhilehegoestodigaroundinhistravelkitagain.
ItaketheopportunitytopointasternfingeratNathan.“Don’teverbringthisupagain!Ipanicked,okay?HewasdiggingforgossipandIdidn’twanthimtofindoutthetruth.Wouldyourathermesayyou’realousyloverlikeKelseydidandWHATisthatfaceabout?”
Heshrugs.“Nothing.You’rejustawfullydefensive.”
Ifeelmycheeksheatingandrefusetoletthemgrowrosy.IREFUSE.“Whyareyouinhereanyway?Aren’tyousupposedtobeintherewithAubreygettingmadeuporenjoyingalapdanceorsomething?”
Hetipsabrow.“Nowwe’rejealous?”
Igroan.“Ofcoursenot.Don’tberidiculous.”
“Well,good.Becausethelapdancereallywasn’tanythingtowritehomeaboutanyway.”
IpunchhimintheshoulderjustasDylancomestostandbehindmeagaintofinishhiswork.Hehasthefaceofamanwhoistryingtolooklikehe’snoteavesdroppingbutisveryclearlymemorizingeverywordwesaysohecanrepeatitlater.Oddly,Idon’tmind.Ikindofhopehedoes.
“Kidding.”NathanglancesupatDylanandthenbacktome.Hiseyesaren’tjokinganymore.TheyarejustNathanlookingbackatme.Hiseyesshifttooneofthecurlshangingbesidemyface,andhetugsitgently.“Timwhiskedyouoffsoquickly,andIwasjustcomingtomakesureeverythingisgoodwithyou.Doyouneedanything?”
Iswallow,realizinghowdifferentthisfeelsthanIpredicted.Hiseyesaren’tdistantlikeI’veseenhimlookwithpreviousgirlfriendswhenthey’reinpublic.He’snottoobusytocheckonme.He’stwirlingmycurlbetweenhisfingerandthumb.Don’tfreakout—it’sprobablyallforshow.
“Yeah,I’mokay.I’malittledisoriented,butI’llgetusedtoit.”IregretthosewordsassoonasIsaythem.Iwon’tgetusedtoit,becauseIwon’tletmyself.Nogettingcomfortableinthislife.Noenjoyingit.
Nathansmileswider,andheleansinslowlytobrushakissonmycheek.
Oncehegoesbacktohisdressingroom,Dylanshakeshisheadatmeinthemirror.“Where’sthatmanagerofyours?Ineedabucketoficetodipmyfacein.”
Ilaughsoftlyandturnmyattentionbacktomytacos,tryingtoignorethetuggingsensationinmyheart.
Laterthatnight,afterwepullupinfrontofmyapartmentandIsprintoutoftheSUV,leavingNathaninmydustbytellinghimI’mnotfeelinggood,IimmediatelycalltheonepersonIknowwillhelpmesortoutmyricochetingfeelings,theonepersonIneverhideanythingfrom.
“Hello?”
“Lily,something’swrong!”Isay,shuttingmyfrontdoorandleaningmybackagainstit.
“What!What’swrong?!”
“Ihadafantasticday.”
Shegrowls.“I’mgoingtokillyouwhenIseeyounext.Yougavemeaheartattack.”
“I’MTHEONEHAVINGAHEARTATTACK!”Isay,pressingmyhandfirmlyovermychestlikeshecanseemydramaticperformance.
InthewordsofMrs.Bennet,shehasnosympathyformypoornerves!
“Okay,hangon.Ineedtogetsomeicecreamandthenyoucantellmewhathappened.DOUG,I’MGOINGOUTONTHEPORCHTOTALKTOB.”
OnceLilyissettled,Itellherallaboutfilmingthecommercial.IexplainhowIwassupposedtohateit,feellikeafishoutofwater,andbecountingdowntheminutesuntilIcouldgethomeandputonmyPJs.Butnoneofthathappened.Ilovedeverysecondofit.OnceIgotusedtoit,Ilovedhowhecticitwas.IlovedhowalltheimportantpeopletheremademefeellikeIactuallybelonged.IthoughtNathan’sworldwassupposedtobelikeMeanGirlsandIwouldn’tbeallowedtositatthecooltablebecauseIwasn’toneofthem,buteveryonewasincrediblyniceandhelpful,andthecrewwashilarious.Everyonewasjokingandplayingaroundinbetweentakes,anditfeltsonaturaltome.
ButbeingnexttoNathanthroughallofit…thatwassomethingIcanbarelyexplainwithwords.I’veseenhiminhiselementcountlesstimes,butit’salwaysfromthesidelineswayyyyyfarawayfromwhereheis.Today,Iwaswithhiminthecenterofitall,andwewerefocusedoneachother.
“Idon’tknow,Lily,butwhilewewerefilming,everythingwaseasy.Weworkedseamlesslytogether,andeventhedirectorcommentedonhowsmootheachtakewent.Italljustfeltoddly…normal.Andfun.”
“Andtheproblem?”
“Theproblemisthatatsomepointduringallofthis,Iforgotwewerepretendingtobeacouple!Iforgot,Lily!AndNathanwas…”Isighrememberingthefeelofallthelittletouchesheconstantlygaveme.Rememberingthewayhishandsplayedoutfirmlyonmylowback.RememberinghowmywholenervoussystemhummedtolifewhenhesmiledatmelikeIwastheonlywomanintheworldforhim.“ItwasnothinglikeIexpectedittobe.Idon’tknow…itwasalmostlikehewasfeelingwhatIwasfeeling.”
She’sdeadsilentforabeatbeforesheburstsoutlaughing.Soloud.SooverthetopIhavetopullmyphoneawayfrommyear.“OFCOURSEHEWAS,YOULOONEYTUNE,BECAUSEHELIKESYOUTOO!”
“Okay,wellname-callingisnotnice.”
“Bree,Iwanttoshakeyourightnow.HaveyoutrulyneverthoughtNathanhasfeelingsforyou?”
“Never!Butcanyoustopbeingsointenseforasecond,becauseI’mfreakingoutandyou’renothelping.”
Shesighsdeeply.“Can’twejustskipthisfreak-out,youcanrunbackovertohisplaceandgetiton,andthenyoucancallmeinthemorningtotellmeI’mrightandyou’lllistentomefromnowon?”
“No,”Isayfirmly.“I’mnotgoingovertohisplaceandtherewillnotbeanygettingiton.Iwon’tdoaflingwithNathan.”
“Umm,Ihatetobreakittoyou,butyou’rekindofinonenow.”
“THEFAKEKIND!”
“Nowyou’reyelling.Justshushalittle.Soyoudon’twantafling?Fine.Butthatdoesn’tmeanyouhavetofreakoutjustbecauseyouthinkhemighthavefeelingsforyoutoo.MaybeyoucanusethisopportunitywithNathantoexploresomeoftheboundariesyou’veputupinthepast.Treatitlikearealrelationshipstartingfromgroundzeroandseeifsomethingnewdevelopsbetweenyoutwonaturally.”
Isigh,mentallyrecitingathousandreasonswhythatcouldgowrong.“ThenI’llbeopeningmyheartuptohope,andthat’swhatIpromisedmyselfIwouldn’tletithaveduringallofthis.Itmightendbadly,andthenI’llbefriendless.”
“Bree,hopeishealthy.Evenifyouprepareyourselffortheworstinlife,itwillnevermakethefallhurtless.Sowhynotletyourselfreallyandtrulywantthisinstead?Andthen,ifthingsendbadly,I’llhelpyoueatyourfeelings.”
IthinkbacktoNathantoday,andmyskinlightsuplikeacircuitboard,zingingwithenergyineverysingleplacehetouchedme.IwanttogiveintothathopeLilyistalkingabout,butI’mtooscared.I’dratherjustwaituntilit’sasurething.Youknow,untilhedropsdownonhiskneeandhasaringkindofsurething?
“IthinkIneedtodotheopposite.IneedtoimplementMORErulesuntilthisisallover.”
Shegroans,deeplydiscouragedbyme.“Whydoyouevencallmeaboutstufflikethis?Nexttimejusttalktoyourwallifyou’renotgoingtolistentomyadvice.”
“Grumpymuch?”
“Yes!Becauseyouthinkyou’reinsuchagoodplacerightnow.Youtellmeallthetimehowhappyyouarethatthecourseofyourlifechangedandyou’reworkinginthestudionowinsteadofdancinginacompany,butyoudon’tseewhatIsee.”Idon’tlikethisshift.Lilyisnotteasingnow.
“Iamhappy,Lily.Ilovebeinganinstructor,andmylifeismorefullthanitusedtobe.”
“Iknowyou’rehappyatthestudioandyou’remakingthemostofhowthingsturnedout,butIalsoseesomethingelse.Aftertheaccident,youstoppedlettingyourselfdreamcompletely.”ShepokesanoldwoundIdidn’tknowwasstillthere.“Youwenttotherapy,andyoulearnedtogrievethefutureyouplannedforandthatwasallgreatandhelpful,butthenit’slikeyoulearnedtocopesowellyoucompletelystoppedhopingforanything.You’reseriouslythequeenofmakingthemostofwhatyouhavenow,butI’mnotsurethat’scompletelyhealthy.Notifitmeansneverdreamingorstrivingformore.”
Myinstantreactionistodefendmyself.Afterthecaraccidentandmysurgery,Ishutdown.Depressionandanxietywereheavy,andevenjustgettingoutofbedinthemorningwasdifficult.IpushedNathanawaycompletely,andthenafterhewentofftocollegeandeverythingfeltevenharder,mymomanddadgotmeintotherapy.Itwasthebestthingtheycouldhavedoneforme.IlearnedhowtoproperlygrieveballetasIknewit,andlittlebylittle,mylifegotbrighter.Oneday,IrealizedIwasfeelinghappyagain.Iwasdoingtheemotionalworkandthephysicalworktogetmybodymovingagaininanewway.Sure,Ihadlimits,butIlearnedtoworkwithinthemandappreciatewhatmybodycoulddoinsteadoffocusingonwhatitcouldn’t.
Bottomline,untiltensecondsagowhenmysisterjustdroppedabombonmyheart,Ithoughtthewoundsfrommyaccidentwerehealed.Ithoughtmymentalworkwasdone.Butissheright?DoInotletmyselfhopeformoreoutoflife?
MymindracesnotjusttoNathan,buttothestudio.I’vebeensounwillingtoworktowardmakinganydreamscometrueconcerningit.NowthatLilyhaspointeditout,it’salmostasifIcanhearmyhopescreamingfromalockedclosetinmyheart.Iwantthatnon-profitspacemorethananything,butI’vebeenterrifiedtohopeforit.IwantNathan,butI’mpetrifiedtolosehim.
Icanseethatmysisterisright,butIdon’tknowhowtosnapmyfingersandchangethewayIfeel.MyscarsremindmeofthatcrushingdisappointmentIfeltatseventeenandhowharditwastopiecemyselfbacktogetherafterward.Idon’twanttogothroughthatagain.Soyeah,maybeI’mmissingalittlebitofhope,buttome,it’sasmallpricetopaytoavoidshatteringagain.
AsfarasNathanandIareconcerned,IjustneedtoholdonandgetthroughthisfakerelationshipuntilwegobacktoBFFswhodon’ttouch.Then,afterthat,I’llbeopentostartinganewrelationshipwithsomeoneelsewhereIwon’thavesomuchtolose.“Mr.Donelson!”AvoicecallsouttomewhenIgetoutofmytruck.IturntowardBree’sdancestudioandseeateenageboystandingoutsidethedoorthatleadstothepizzaparlor’skitchenbelowthestudio.
“Whoisthat?Who’syellingyourname?”mymomasksfrommyphone,whichI’vebeenonforfifteenminutesnow.Iwouldn’tmindtalkingtoherifshewantedtoactuallytalkwithme.Instead,it’salongdroningspeechaboutallthewaysshethinksIcouldenhancemyimage(I’llgiveyouahint,achildren’sgolfdayathercountryclubwasmentioned)andthennitpickingeverymoveofmylastgame.Ontherareoccasionswhenshedoesasktohearaboutmyweek,Ialwaysgetthefeelingshe’sreallyonlyfishingforwaysshecancommentonwhatI’mdoingwrong.Bottomline,I’velearnedtokeepmymouthshutaboutmyprivatelife,andI’llgiveherabouttenmoresecondsbeforeIendthecallandavoidherotherattemptsatcommunicationforanotherweek.
“JustafanIthink,”Itellher,squintingtowardtheteenabouttwentyyardsaway.
“There’safaninthetrainingfacility?”Hervoiceisgettingannoyinglyhigh.She’swindinguptoreleaseacriticalcomment.
Ishutmytruckdoor,raisemyhand,andgivethekidaquickwave.“No,I’mnotatthefacilityrightnow.Practiceendedalittleearlytodaybecauseofameetingourcoacheshadtoattend,soI’mdroppingbyBree’sstudio.”
There’ssilencefollowedbyherlightlyclearingherthroat.“Doyoureallythinkit’swisetobetakingextratimeawayfromyourtrainingwhenyou’resoclosetoanotherplayoffgamethisweekend?Maybeyoushouldhavespentthatextratimewithyourphysicaltherapist,or—”
“I’magrownmanaswellasaprofessionalathlete.Icanhandlemyowntrainingschedule.”Wow,thatfeltgoodtosay.Also,itfeelslikesomethingIshouldn’thavetovoiceoutloud.
Sheletsoutanoffendedscoff.“Well,excusemefortryingtohelpyousucceed.”
“CuttingoutanhourearlyonedayoutoftheseasontospendtimewithBreeishardlygoingtointerferewithmysuccess.”EversinceBreeandIstarted“dating”(shedoesn’tknowit’sfake),mymomhasbeenmakinglotsofpassiveaggressivecommentsaboutBree.Shecanmakedigsaboutmygameornutritionorlookingpudgyinamagazinespreadallshewants,butIwon’tputupwithasinglewordagainstBree.
“Ohhoney,don’tfoolyourself.Thatgirlhasbeeninterferingwithyoursuccesssinceyouwereinhighschool.Isawyoualmostthrowitallawayforherbackthen,andIwon’twatchyoudoitasecondtime.”
Istopwalkingandturnawayfromtheteen—whoiscurrentlypoisedtointerceptmewithanapkinandapen—sohedoesn’tgettohearwhatIsaytomymomnext.“First,she’sawoman,notagirl.Second,yeah,ifshewouldhaveletme,Iwouldhavestayedhomeforherinaheartbeatbackthen.Istillwould.Footballwillneverbeasimportanttomeassheis,soyoucaneithersupportmyrelationshipwithBreeorforfeitarelationshipwithme.Yourcall,butjustknowIwon’tbudgeonthis.”
Mymommakesafewsoundsofdisbelief,andthen…hangsup.Yep,sheendsthecallwithoutanotherwordbecauseVivianDonelsondoesn’tknowhowtoreactwhensomeoneputsherinherplace.I’msureI’llgetacallfrommydadinaboutanhourdemandingIapologizetomymomandtellingmehowshehasn’tcomeoutofherroomsincewespokebecauseshewassohurt.Shebirthedmeafterall!Dideverythingshecouldtomakemydreamscometrue!HowdareInotlethermicromanagemyentirelife!It’swhyIusuallyavoidconflictwiththem.It’sjusteasiertogoalongwithherandletherstampedeovermethangetintosomethingwiththemthatwilleatupallmyenergy.ButwhereBreeisconcerned,it’safightI’lltakeoneveryday.
Iturnbacktowardthestudioandfindtheteenbaringallofhisteethinmydirection.Thepenisshakinginhishand.ItrainmyfaceintoapleasantsmileeventhoughpleasantistheleastthingIfeel.ThismaskIhavetowearisjustpartofthejob.Can’tletthefansdown.Can’tlettheteamdown.Can’tletanyonedown.
“Heyman,”Isay,walkingcloser.“Sorryaboutthat.Doyouwantanautograph?”
HeshakeslikealeaftheentiretimeasIsignthenapkin,thanksmeprofusely,tucksitbackinsidehiscanvasapron,anddartsbackintothepizzakitchen.IhurryupthesteepstairsofthestudiobeforethekidcantellanyoneelseinsidethatI’mouthere.
ThemomentIopenthestudiodoor,IhearBree’svoicecountingoutbeatsinthemainroom.It’shotuphereduetotheheatthepizzastovesgiveoff,anditsmellslikeyeastanddancer’ssweat.Notagreatcombo.ImmediatelymymindstartsracingtoallthewaysIcouldimprovethisspaceforher,buteveninmyimagination,Breewon’tletmegetawaywithanything.Ifeelaphantompinchonmysideandpictureherlevelingmewithaglare.Don’tyoueventhinkaboutit,Donelson!
Thestudioislaidoutlikeonelonghorizontalbox.Aftersteppingthroughthefrontdoor,I’mstandinginthefour-foot-widehallwaythatrunsthelengthoftheentirestudio.IfIkeepwalkingstraight,thenextdoorgoesrightintotheactualstudio.Tomyleftiseightfeetofhallwaythatendsinasingle-roombathroom,andtomyrightiseightmorefeetofhallwaythatendswithBree’soffice.
Ifollowthemusicandsoundsofdancers’feetthumpingtheflooruntilmyheadispeekingintothestudio.Ifindtwelveteenagedancersdoingsomesortofhop-jump-foot-crisscrossthingwithBreestandinginfrontofthem,backtome.She’swearingmyfavoritestrappyleotardtoday,theonethatshowsmilesandmilesofhertonedback.Justasmyeyesaredroppingtomyfavoritecurvybacksideontheplanet,thedancersbegintonoticemeonebyone.Likearowofdominoestumbling,thegirlsstumbleintoeachotherandhitthefloor.
Breeyelpsatthesightandturnsthemusicoffwitharemote.“Imani!Hannah!Areyougirls,al—”
She’scutoffwhenoneofthegirlspointsaggressivelyinmydirection.“It’sHIM!”
IswearthesoundofBree’sheadturninginmydirectionmakesawind-tunnelnoise.HereyeslandonmeandBAM,herattentionkicksmeintheheart.Herlookofshockslowlyslidesoffandasmileunfurls.Iwanttowrapmyarmsaroundherwaist.Iwanttodropmymouthtoherneckandkissmywayupanddownit.Shelooksdangerouslysexyinherleotardanddanceshorts.Ilovewhenshewearsthattidyballetbun,becausethere’ssomethingsosatisfyingaboutknowingwhatherhairlookslikewhenit’snotwrappeduptightlikethat.There’salwaysamomentattheendofthedaywhenshetakesthepinsoutandallthosewildcurlsfalldownaroundhershoulders—killsmeeverytime.
Yesterdayonset,Ifeltsomethingbetweenus.Itwasn’tone-sided.Breewasreactingtome,andeverytimeItouchedher,sheblushedorleanedinalittlecloser.Althoughitwasinthenameoffakedating,therewassomeseriousmutualflirtingthatdidn’tfeelfake.Itwasperfect.
Untilshebolted.
TheSUVwasbarelyparkedbeforeshejumpedoutandtoldmenottofollowherbecauseshedidn’tfeelgood.“What’swrong?”Iaskedher.“It’s…MYPERIOD!”shesaidandthenranoutlikethatwasanactualanswer.Except,apparentlysheforgotshe’sanotoriousover-sharerandhadalreadytoldmeaweekandahalfagoshewasonherperiod.
So,yeah,obviouslyshewasfreakedoutafterourfirstdayasacouple.I’mheretodaytomakesureeverythingisokaybetweenus,andalsofulfillnumber18onthecheatsheet.Surpriseheratworktoshowheryoucareabouther.
“Nathan?Whatareyoudoinghere?Iseverythingokay?”Breeasks,lookingalittlenervousassheglancesbackandforthbetweenmeandthegirlsalllinedupgawkingatme.Irarelygetthechancetovisitheratthestudio,soIcanseewhyshe’dbeconcerned.
Oneofthedancersthrowsherforearmoverhereyesdramatically.“Quick,someonegetmesomesunglasses—thatmanissohothe’sburningmypupilsoff.”
Thewholeclassgigglesattheirobviousringleader,andBreeglaresather.“Cutitout,you!Anddon’tsaypupilslikethatagain.It’sweird.”Naturallytheyallstartchantingthewordpupils,andI’mstrugglingtonotlaugh
Breeseesmysmirkandwalksslowlytowardme,herleanlineslookingasgracefulanddeadlyasapanther.Shestopsrightinfrontofmeandnarrowsherbigbrowneyesupatme.“Somethingfunnyaboutinterruptingmyclassandsendingthesehormonalteensintoafitofhysterics?”
Igrindownather.“No,absolutelynot.”
Sheliftsabrowandhums.“Idon’tthinkIbelieveyou.”
Hergazesnagsonmymouthandmysmileslowlyfades.Westandherelikethisforafewseconds,balancingonthistightropeoftension,unsurewhattosayordonext.
“OOO,”squealsoneofthestudents.“Callthefiredepartment!Thesetwoareabouttomakethisstudioburstintoflames!”
Breewhipsaround.“Notanotherwordoutofyougirls!IneedtogotalktoMr.Donelsoninmyofficeforaminute.ContinueyourjumpswhileI’mgone.”
IlookatBreewithanantagonizingsmileandliftedbrowswhilesilentlymouthing,Mr.Donelson?
Sherollshereyesthenwhispers,“Don’teggthemon.Thesegirlsareruthless.They’vebeennaggingmetodateyouformonthsnow,andIcontinuouslyremindthemwe’reonlyfriends.Sincenewsfinallybrokeaboutour…relationship,theirtauntinghasbecomenearlyunmanageable.”
They’vebeentryingtoconvinceBreetodateme?ThisnewsonlyvalidatesmyinstinctthatBreeandIwouldbeperfecttogether,makingmefeelevenflirtier.“SoIshouldn’tpinchyourbuttinfrontofthem?”
“NATHAN!”Ilovethewayhercheeksgopinklately.BreeflashesmeaBehavelookbeforeturningtoaddresstheclassagain.“Okay,lineupandgetintoposition.IbetterhearthesoundofgracefuljumpstheentiretimeI’mtalkingwithMr.Donelson.”
“Mhm,she’sgoingtogotalktoMr.Donelson,”saysanothergirl,addressingtheclasswithairquotesbracketingthewordtalk.Thesegirlsaretrouble,andItotallyseenowwhyBreelovesthemsomuch.They’rejustlikeher.
“Jumps!”Breebarkswhileclickingtheclassicalmusicbackon.
Collectively,thegirlsallbattheireyelashesandsingsong,“Bye,Mr.Donelson.”Okay,thatmakesmefeelcreepy.
Notetoself:MaybesurprisingBreeatworkwhenshehasaroomfullofteengirlsisnotthebestidea.
Breereadsmythoughts.“Yep.Andyoushouldstopposinginsomanyshirtlessads!Youshouldseeallthephotostheyhavesavedofyouontheirphones.”That’sdisturbingandalsosomethingIcouldhavegonewithoutknowing.
Breesuddenlycatchesmyhandandpullsmewithherintothehallway.Iwasn’tpreparedforthisskin-to-skincontact,andittriggersmywholebodytozeroinonthatonepointofcontact.Breestopswhenweareontheothersideofthestudiowalljustoutsideofeyeshot.Sheletsgoofmyhandtofaceme,andIwanttotakeitbackagain.Istuffmyhandsinmypocketstokeepfromactingontheimpulse.
“Sowhat’sup?”sheasksasclassicalmusicswirlsaroundus.
Iswallow,suddenlyfeelingnervoustoadmitthatIcameallthiswayjusttoseeher.That’swhattheguyssaidtodo,but…Idon’tknowthatIcangothatfaroutonalimb.I’veneversaidanythinglikethattoherbefore,andI’mnotsurehowshe’sgoingtoreact.
Ishiftfromonefoottotheother.“I,uh—hadsomethingIwantedto…”
“Ohmygosh,isthatgiantmanstuttering?!He’ssoadorable.”
Breelooksovermyshouldertowherethatwhisperedcommentcamefrom.“Backinthestudiooryou’realldoingtenminutesofpush-upsbeforeclassisover!”Suchadrillsergeant.Iwonderifthesegirlsfindherthreatening.Ijustwanttokissher.
Breeturnsawayandmotionsformetofollow.Lookslikewe’regoingtosqueezeintohertinyofficenow.I’msousedtoBreenotwantingtobeinanysortofclosequarterswithmethatasIeyethetwofeetofavailablestandingroom,Iaccidentallygiveheralookofhesitation.
Hereyeswidenwithimpatienceandshewavesmein.“Comeon,hurryup.Thisistheonlyplacewecantalkprivately,andIneedtogetbackintheresoon.”
AsIstepintoherpacking-box-of-an-office,I’mremindedofthefinally-legalsensation.Youknow?It’sthatfeelingwhenyouorderyourfirstbeeronyourtwenty-firstbirthday,thebartenderstudiesyourID,andforasplitsecond,youbreakoutinasweatbecauseyou’resousedtoalwayshavingtosellthefakeone.Butthisoneisreal,heslidesabeeracrossthetable,andyougettodrinkitwithoutfearofpunishment.That’swhatbeinginvitedtostandinthisminusculeroomwithBreefeelslike.
Herdesktakesupmostofthespace,thebacksofherlegspressedupagainstittomakeroomformetoshutthedoor.Ican’tgetittoclosebehindmybackthough;IhavenochoicebuttostepclosertoBreeuntilwearetouching.NOCHOICE,ITELLYOU!Mychinisrestingaboveherhead.Nowthesweetscentofcoconutoverpowersalltheothers.Whenwe’rechesttochest,I’mabletoscootthedoorshutbehindme.Itscrapesmybackasitpasses,andIhopeitleavesamarksoIcanalwaysrememberthismoment.
Thedoorlatches,andforsomereason,Idon’tmoveaway.Breedoesn’tpushmebackeither.Instead,shelooksup,eyessearchingmine.Ahairhasfallenloosefromherbunandisdanglingbythesideofherface.Withoutasecondthought,myhandrisesandIbrushmyfingertipsacrosshercheekbone,tuckingthehairgentlybehindherear.Shesucksinaquickbreath,herlipsparting.She’ssodamnpretty.Softandsweet,butalsovibrantandsharp.Isthathowkissingherwouldtaste?
Idropmyhandfromhereartoskimdownthesideofherarm.Herlashesfalltowatchthepathmyhandtakesuntilitlandsrightbesidehers,knucklestouchinglightly.Herdeepbrowneyespopbackuptomine,andit’sliketimestandsstill.We’refrozentogether.Somethingaboutthewayshe’slookingatmetellsmeifIbentdowntokissherrightnow,she’dletme.Idon’tknowwhoinitiatesitfirst,butourfingersshiftandclimbtowardtheother’suntilthey’relooselyintertwined.
Myheartisinmythroat.No,it’sinmyhands.I’mholdingitouthereforhertotake.
Suddenly,theairfillswiththeopeningnotesof“Let’sGetItOn”byMarvinGaye,andgiggleseruptbeyondthewall.
Breeletsoutahigh-pitchedgrowlandstepstothesidesoshecanbangthesideofherfistagainstthewall.Ourhandsunlink.“Hey!Turnthatoff!”
Theydon’tobey.Moregiggles.
Ibitemyliptokeepfromsmiling,andBreedoesn’tappreciateit.
“It’snotfunny!”shesaysinasad,defeatedtone.
“Comeon?It’ssofunny,”Isay,givingintoafullsmile.
Breerelentswithasmileofherownandshakesherhead.“Fine,it’salittlefunny.”
I’mnotwillingtoletourmomentendquiteyet.Andifthesegirlsaregoingtohelpmeout,I’mnotgoingtoturnupmynoseatthegesture.IstretchoutmyhandtowardBree.“C’mere,let’sdance.”
Herbrowstwitchtogetherandsheeyesmyhandlikeit’smoldy.“What?”Sheletsoutanervous,breathylaughandlooksaroundlikeshe’sexpectingtofindhiddencameras.“Inhere?Noway.That’ssilly.”
Itakeherhandandtugheruptome.Getoverhere,woman.Shedoesn’tfightit.Instead,shesnapsintomyarms,andIpullherupclose—onehandonherlowback,theotherholdingherhandbesideme,palmtopalm,chesttochest.Sheblinksafewtimesandtentativelyslidesherfreehandupontomyshoulder.
“You’rebeingweird,”shesays,eventhoughherthumbisbrushingatendermovementupanddownthebaseofmyneck.
“Yeah.Reallyweird.”Iputalittlemorepressureonherbackandswayussidetoside.Beingthisclose,I’msteepedinhershampoo,andthankstothewayherleotarddipsintheback,Icanfeelthesoft,velvetytextureofherskinagainstmyhand.Sheisheaveninmyarms.Nothingexistsoutsidethesewallsforme.
“Nathan,whyareyouhererightnow?IhaveaclassIneedtobeteaching.”Shesaysthiswhilesnugglingalittlecloser.AstrongrevelationisgrowingasIseeherwordsandheractionsareindirectconflictwitheachother.Whichoneisfake?
“Iwantedtoaskyouifyou’refreetomorrownight.”
“Youcouldhavedonethatovertext,”shesays,fishingformoreofananswer.
“Icouldhave.”
Shecastshereyesdownbriefly,likeshedoesn’twantmetoseeherexpression,hersoftgrin,andthesideofherfaceskimsacrossmychest.“Yeah,I’mfree.”
“Great.ProSportsMagazineishavingtheirbigten-yearbirthdaybash.It’saredcarpetevent,andIwashopingyou’dgowithme.”Inthepast,Breehasalwayssaidnotoattendinganycareer-relatedeventwithme.ShealwaystellsmetotakeadateinsteadFriendsdon’tgowithfriendstofancyeventslikethat.
Shekeepshergazelow.“Well,IguessIsortofhavetogo,right?Asyourofficial-fake-girlfriend.”
“No.Ifyoudon’twanttogo,I’llplansomethingelsealittlemorelow-keyforoneofourcontract-mandatedoutings.”
“Oh,”shesays,andIhearalittledisappointmentinhervoice.Ithinkshewantsmetotellhershehastocomewithme.Shewantsmetotakethechoiceawayfromher,butIneedtoseeifshe’swillingtocomewithmeonherownornot.
“Sowhatdoyouthink?”Iask,stoppingourswayingsoshe’lllookupatme.Idancemythumbinacircleagainsttheskinofherback.
“Okay,”shesays,herlasheslifting.“I’llgowithyou.ButIdon’thaveanythingtowear.”
Myheartramsintomysternum.Iwanttowrapmyarmsallthewayaroundherandsqueeze.Instead,Isettleforasubtlepressofmyfingers.“Leaveituptome,andbehomebyfivetomorrow.”
“I’mnervousaboutwhatthatmeans.”
Ireachbackandopenthedoor,reluctanttoletheroutofmyarmsbutknowingsheneedstoreturntoherclassofhellions.AsIstepaway,Itrytocheckonemoreitemoffmycheatsheet.
Lookingatherovermyshoulder,Ismileandwink.“Youshouldbe.”
She’sfrozenforasecondandIthink,Derek,youmagnificentdevil,itworkedButthenhereyeswidenandsheburstsoutlaughing.“DidyoujustWINKatme?!”
Okay,soapparentlywinkinggoesintothenon-sexycategoryforBree.Sheroastsmeallthewayoutthedoor,andIwillmurderDerekatpracticetomorrow.It’salittleafterfiveandI’mrushingupthestickystairsofmyapartmentbuilding,outofbreathandmaybewheezingalittlebit.Probablytheeffectsoflivinginamoldyapartmentfortoolong.
WhenImakeittomyfloor,Istopandfrownatthesightinfrontofme.Dylanissittingonthefloorsurroundedbywhatlookslikeenoughluggageforaweek-longcruise.Fivesuitcasesstandaroundhimalongwithapileofgarmentbagsdrapedovertop.Howdidhegetalloftheseuphere?Ilookbehindmewonderingifthere’sasecretelevatoreveryone’sbeenkeepingfromme.ButwhenIseethathischestisheavingjustasmuchasmine,Irealizehehauledallthisuphimself.Poorthing.
“Dylan?”Iask,steppingcloser,wonderingifI’mgoingtohavetoresuscitatehim.
Hisheadshootsupandhesmileswidedespitehislaboredbreathing.“HiDimples!You’relate!”
“I’msorry,”Isay,stillinadazeatseeinghimhere.IguessthisiswhatNathanmeantbyLeaveituptome.“Trafficwasnutstoday.Here,letmehelpyouup.Also,Idon’twanttoalarmyou,butthere’sagoodchanceyoucaughtanSTDsittingonthatfloor.”
Heshrieksandjumpsupwithoutmyhelp.“AmIgoingtohavetoburntheseclothes?”
“It’sprobablyforthebestifyoudo.”
“Ohmygosh.Whydoyoulivehere?”Helooksaroundlikecockroachesmightbecrawlingallaroundhim.Actually,itwouldn’tbethatmuchofasurpriseiftheywere.
Ilaughandturntounlockmyapartment.“It’salittlethingcalledmoney.Yousee,Idon’thavemuchofit.”
“Umm,you’rebasicallydatingabank.Heprobablyhasmoremoneythanabankactually.Gomoveinwithhim!Here,I’llhelpyou.We’llpackyourthingsandmoverightnow.”
It’sonthetipofmytonguetotellDylanthatNathanisjustmyfriendandIdon’twanthisfinancialhelpwhenI’mcutoffbythesightofmyapartment.Dylanstepsinbehindme,pullingtwoofhissuitcases,andgasps.
“Holyflowers,Batman!I’massuming,Ms.I-don’t-have-any-money,thatyoudidn’tgooutandbuyyourselfallofthesemagicalbouquets?”
Ishakemyheadslowly,speechless.Therearedozensofbouquetsfillingmylivingroom.Biggloriouspinkandgreenbloomseverywhere.Idon’thaveafavoriteflowerbecauseit’stoohardtonarrowitdowntoone,butIdohaveafavoriteflowercolorcombination.Apparently,I’vetoldNathanthisatsomepoint.Andheremembered.Pinkandgreen.Mystomachclenchestight.
“You’vegotanoteoverhere.”Dylanisalreadypickingitupandopeningthecardlikewe’vebeenbestiesfortwentyyearsanddon’tkeepsecretsfromeachother.Isnatchitoutofhisnoseyhandwithareprimandinglookandturnawaytoreaditprivately.
Ihopeyoudon’tmind,butIfoundawaytomakeyourapartmentsmellbetter.
Bebyatseventopickyouup.
-Nathan
Myheartbeatisfierce,andit’sallIcandotonotsqueallikeanexcitedlittlepiggyinmylivingroom.Whatishappeningtome?Whatishappeningtous?NathanandIhavebeenfriendsforamillionyearsandhe’sneveronceboughtmeflowers…anddefinitelyneverboughtmeawholeflowershopbefore.Mymindraceswonderingwhatthisis.Whatdoesthismean?ThathopeLilywastalkingaboutbloomsinmychestunbidden.
ButI’mtooscaredtofullydiveintoit.He’sprobablyjusttryingtogetmeinthemoodtofakeadatetonight.Putheartsinmyeyes.Unfortunately,theywerealreadythereevenbeforeanyofthis—andit’smakingitmuchhardertonotallowthosefeelingstoescalate.Andyesterdayinmyoffice…
“Lockitdown,Bree.”
“Didyousaysomething?”Dylanasks.
“Nothing.Nevermind.”
Hegaspssuddenly.“There’ssomesortofstickygooponmybutt!Whatdoyouthinkitis?Actually,no,Idon’twanttoguess.Iwantyoutomoveapartments.Rightnow.”
IlaughandtughimwithmetomybedroomwhereIpulloutapairofsweatpantsandtossthemathim.“Here,youcanwearthese.”
“Ugh,thankyou!”
IleavetheroomsoDylancangetchanged,andwhenhecomesbackinthelivingroominmylightgreyjoggersweatpants,hepointstohisrearend.“Umm,ma’am,thesesayJuicyonthebooty.”
IstranglealaughwithaflowerpressedtomynosewhereIwassnortingitlikeanaddict.“Iknow.”
“Youdidn’thaveanythingelsethatwouldfitme?”
“Oh,Idefinitelydid.”
Hecrinkleshisnoseandstealsapillowfrommycouchtotossatme.“AndtothinkIshoppedallmorningtofindyoutheperfectdress.Ishouldhavejustfoundyouat-shirtthathadSkankwrittenacrossit.”
“Youshoppedforme?”Iaskwithbigroundpuppydogeyes.
HetossesmealookoverhisshoulderashegoestounzipthebagdrapedovermycouchthatholdsseveralGORGEOUSdresses.“Whatdidyouthinkthesewere?Bodybags?LikeIjustcarryaroundmyvictimswhereverIgo?”
“ShouldIbescaredthatyouthoughtofthatsoquickly?”
Hisonlyanswerispullingoutalongfloor-lengthgownandholdingitupwithproudeyes.“Okay,soIdidn’tknowyourexactsize,andIwasalittleskepticaltotrustyourmantoaccuratelyknowit…butitlookslikehewasright!Thisisgoingtofityoulikeaglove.”
ItakethedressfromDylanandlookatthetag.Sureenough,it’stherightsize.I’mterrifiedthatNathanknewthat,becauseI’vedefinitelynevertoldhim.AnotherthingIfindisapricetagthatmakesmechoke.“Pleasetellmethisisnottherealpriceofthisgown!”
Heshrugsandbusieshimselfwithunpackingthosesuitcasesthat,turnsout,arefullofdesignerhairandmakeupproducts.Sephorahasexplodedinmylivingroom,andit’sabeautifulsight.Lilywouldbesojealous.Itextherapictureliketheannoying,gloatinglittlesisterthatIam.
“Whateveryouwanttobelieve.AllIknowisNathanhadmebuyyoufifteendressestopickfrom,alltotalinguptothepriceofmyhouse.Ontopofallthat,hepaidmemyfullon-setdayrate,andwhydoyoulooklikethat?”
Iputmyfaceinmyhandsbecausethisisbad.Thisisreally,reallybad.EverythingI’veeveravoidedwithNathanisallhappeninginonerushingavalanche.Fancypublicdate.Biggestures.Myownentourage.High-pricedgifts.It’stoomuch,andit’sallgoingtoendjustasquicklyformeasitdoesforallhisothergirlfriends.Exceptunlikethoseotherwomen,Iwon’tmissallofthis—I’llmisshim.
Dylancomesoverandputshishandonmyback,rubbingacirclejustlikeLilywould.“What’swrong?ThisisnotthereactionIthoughtI’dgetwhenItoldyouyourboyfriendboughtyouthousandsofdollars’worthofdressesandhiredthebestinthebusinesstostyleyoutonight.”Hesaysthatlastbitwithagrin.
IwanttotellDylanthetruth,wanttotellhimnoneofthisisreal,we’refakingit,andI’vebeenavoidingjumpingintothislifewithNathanforsixyearsbecauseIneverwantedtoexperienceit—neverwantedtoenjoyitorgetusedtoitbecauseitwillhurtsomuchmorewhenit’sjustamemory.Andyes,Idoenjoythissideofhimtoo.I’maliving,breathinghuman,soofcourseIliketobespoiledbyacelebrity.Whowouldn’t?ButIcan’ttellDylananyofthatbecauseIsignedaveryscary-lookingnon-disclosureagreementpromisingIwouldn’ttellasoul.I’vealreadytoldLily,soIcan’taffordanymoreslipups.
Isettleforpartofthetruth.“IhavetroublereceivingthingslikethisfromNathan.Itfeelslikealot.”
“Welldon’t!Heclearlyhasenoughmoneytospareandwantstodoteonyoualittle.Lethim.Andifitmakesyoufeelbetter,I’llreturnallthedressesyoudon’twant.”
Ilowermyhands.“Thatdoesmakemefeelbetter,actually.Thankyou.”
“Good.Now,justtrytoletyourselfenjoythismoment!Comeadmiremyincrediblestylingskillsandpickadressfortonight.It’snotlikeyou’regoingtohavetoliveinitfortherestofyourlifeorturnintoarealhousewifeofLongBeach.It’sjustafunlittlenight.Justputoneglitteringhighheelinfrontoftheother.”
Itakeadeepbreath.He’sright.It’sjustanight.I’mgettingaheadofmyself.Nothinghastochange;Ijustneedtothinkofthisasafungameofmake-believe.Pretend.It’sokaytoenjoysomethingwhenyouknowit’snothingbutagame.Easy-peasy.Icandothis.
Forthenexttenminutes,DylanandIgothrougheachofthedressesheselected,andit’sseriouslyhardtochoosemyfavoritebecausetheyareallsobeautiful.Intheend,Ipickonethatremindsmeofbubblingchampagne.Tonightisnotquiteasfancyasanawardshow,butit’salsonotcasualenoughformyJuicysweatpants.Mydressisatea-lengthbodyconwithlongsleeves,asheerglitteringoverlay,andachampagne-coloredsilklining.Themostgloriouspartistheback.Thesilkliningscoopslowdownmyspine,andthesheeroverlaydottedwithfinediamond-lookingsequinsspansacrossmyback.It’ssexyandclassyatthesametime.Mymomwon’tgaspinhorrorifsheseesitinthetabloidstomorrow,whichisalwaysaperk.
Formyhair,Dylanwantstoleaveitdown.Headdsallsortsofproductsuntilmycurlsaresleek,shining,andspringy.Hepartsmyhairfarontherightsideandpinstheotherhalfawayfrommyfacewithadiamond-studdedclip.I’mreallyhopingthosediamondsarefake.Hegivesmeasofteyeshadowlookwithfiercecat-eyeeyelinerandanudepinklip.
WhenIlookinthemirror,deckedoutinaglamorousgown,designermakeup,andhairstyledwithinaninchofitslife,Istillseeme,anditmakesmyheartswell.AtleastIdon’tfeellikeI’mputtingonawholedifferentskintogowithNathantothisevent.Everythingelsemightbefake,butnotme.
Dylanpopsupovermyshoulder,andabigcheesysmilestretchesacrosshisface.“Istuffedthelipsticktubeinyourpurse,sowhenNathanruinsit,you’llhavemore.”
“Nathanisnotgoingto—”Istopmyself,becauseyeah,anyboyfriendwhosawmelikethiswoulddefinitelyruinmylipstick.“…beabletokeephishandsoffme.Goodcall.”
“Justdon’tlethimtouchyourhair!It’sperfectandifhemessesitup,Iwilldestroyhim.”
AnimageofslenderDylaninmyJuicysweatpantschallengingmountainousNathantoaboxingmatchpopsintomyhead,andhonestlyit’sexactlythekindofdistractionIneedrightnow.MyhandsareshakingandIfeellikeI’mgoingtopuke.
“Thankyouforallofthis,Dylan.Youdidanincrediblejob.”
Hewavesmeoff.“You’reaneasycanvas.AndIshouldbetheonethankingyou.YourboyfriendispayingmemorethanIshouldallow.Infact,Ifeelalittledirtyacceptingit.”Hepoocheshislipsoutinthoughtbeforeamischievoussmilecurvesthem.“Okay,I’moverit.I’mgoingtogetoutofherebeforehearrivessoyoutwocanhaveamomentbyyourselvesbeforethecrazinessoftonight.Textmelaterandtellmehowitgoes!”Hekissesmycheekanddisappearstograbhisbagsandleave.
I’mstillstandinginthemirrorstaringandtryingnottohaveapanicattackwhenIhearthedoorshutbehindDylan.Andthenamomentlateritopensagain.MyheartbeatsdoubletimebecauseIknowwhojuststeppedinside.Hedoesn’tcalloutforme,butIhearhisdressshoesclickingacrossthehardwoodfloorasheapproachesmyroom.Ican’tbringmyselftolookawayfromthemirror.It’snotfightorflight—it’sfreezing.Isodesperatelywanttoseesomeonereflectingbackatmewhofeelsoutofplaceandallwrong,butno.Everythingfeelsright,andlovely,andexciting.I’mscared.
I’mscaredbecauseIwanttogomorethananything.
I’mscaredbecauseI’msolookingforwardtowalkingbesideNathantonightandholdinghishand.
I’mscaredbecauseallthesefeelingsI’vekeptatbayforsolongarepeltingmelikeahailstorm.
Theclickinggrowscloser,andIcanseeNathaninmyperipheralnow,standingoutsidemybathroomdoor,staringatme.Hedoesn’tspeak,andneitherdoI.
Theairgetshotandthickashestepsintothebathroomandfillsthespacebehindme.Now,he’sreflectingbackatmetoo,wearingalightgreysuitthatfitssnuglyaroundhisbicepsandshoulders.Hissquarejawiscleanshaven,andIwanttodrinkwhatevercolognehe’swearingHisblackeyesholdmineinthemirror,andIcanfeelhisheatradiatingthroughthesheerbackofmydress.
Hesmiles.
Ismile.
Andthenheleansdowntosoftlykissmycheek.Justlikealways—butcompletelydifferentthistime.Hishandsremainathissides,buthiseyesslideovereveryinchofme.Istaysostill,tryingtokeepbreathingdespitethelackofoxygenintheroom.
“Beautiful,”hewhispersagainstmyear,andashiverrunssweetpricklesupmyspine.“Youstillwithme?”
Inod.I’vebeenonthephonetheentireridetothemagazineparty.AllIwantistofocusonBree,butmyagentneededtodiscussanendorsementdealshe’snegotiatingfortheoffseason,andthenthatturnedintolisteningtoTimblabberonaboutwhoallIneedtokissuptotonightafterwegetthroughthedoors.It’sbeenonephonecallafteranother.
AlthoughBreehasknownmelongenoughthatseeingmeonthephoneforanextendedperiodoftimeisnotashocktoheranymore,Istillhateit.It’srudetospendanentirecarridewithaphonegluedtomyear.Mostwomencan’thandlethispartofmylife,anditcontributestoourearlybreakups.SomedaysIcantellmymanagerandagenttobackoffandgivemesomespace,butondaysliketodaywhereI’vebeenmovingfromonescheduledmeeting,practice,andphysicaltherapysessiontoanother,Ihavetocatchupwiththepeoplewhorunmylifeinmyfreemoments.
“SoPaulwilldefinitelybetheretonight,andyou’llwanttomakesureyouseekhimoutandhaveapublicconversationwithhim,”Timsays,likemaybeIdon’talreadyknowfromyearsofexperiencethatIneedtobefriendlywithourteam’sowner.
“Yep.Gotit.”
“Also,JacobNelsonmighttrytocorneryou.Hecontactedmeaboutschedulinganinterviewwithyou,andItoldhimno.I’veyettoseeapositivearticlecomefromhim,andIdon’twantyouanywhereneartheguy.Smileandremindhimthatyouleaveallschedulinguptoyourmanager.”
“Mhmm…soundsgood.”
“Areyouevenlisteningtome?”Timasksinanannoyedtone.
No.Nope.Notabit.I’mstaringatBree’slongbarelegs.
Idon’tmeantobe,butdamn,shelookskillertonight.Shelookskillereverysinglenight,butrightnow,she’smakingherselfstandoutinthisskintightsparklingdress,hairlongandwildbutalsosomehowperfectlystyled.Andhereyes…wow.Idon’tthinkI’veeverseenherweareyelinerbefore,anditmakesheralreadyvibranteyespracticallygrabmebythecollarofmysuitanddemandthatIemptymypocketsandgivehereverythingI’vegot.Youcantakeitall,Bree.Shehasnoideamyeyesaregluedtoherbecauseherattentioniscompletelylockedonherphone.Idon’tthinkI’veseenherblinkintwominutes.
“No,I’mnotlisteninganymore,Tim.CanyoujusttextmealistofpeopleyouwantmetoschmoozeandwhoIneedtoavoid?”
Hesighs,knowinghe’slostme.Honestly,evenifBreewasn’tstealingmyattention,IstillthinkI’donlybehalfwaylisteningtoTim.I’mtired.No,I’mexhausted.IfIclosedmyeyesrightnow,I’dpassout.AndeventhoughBreelookslikealiteralgoldengoddess,IstillwouldratherbehomeonthecouchwithherinoursweatpantswatchingsomethingfunnyonTV.
“Okay,lastthingandI’llletyougo,”Timsays.
“Youhavefifteenseconds.”
“NicoletoldmetotellyoutokissBreeontheredcarpettonight.Justsomethingchasteandsweetforthenewsoutletstokeepyourrelationshipinthespotlightandtrending.”
MyeyessweeptoBreeandmypulsepicksup.IamgettingofficialpermissiontokissBree.Actually,I’mbeingtoldIhavenochoicebuttokissher.Ourlipswillmeetinonlyafewshortminutes,andmymindcan’twrapitselfaroundtheidea.Suddenly,I’msweating.Ifeeloutofpractice.Somuchridesonthiskiss.WhatifIscrewitup?I’vegenerallygottenpositivereportsinthatarea,butthisisBree.Ihavetogivehermybestsothewordbrotherneversurfacesinhermindinreferencetomeagain.
“Noted.We’llgetitdone.”AndthenIhangupbeforeTimcangivemeanymoreassignments.
Breemustnoticethegrittomyvoicebecauseherheadrisesfromherphoneforthefirsttime,hauntingeyesknockingintome.“Whatwillwegetdone?”
I’mnotreadytotellheryetsoIsidestep.“Hey,I’msorryI’vebeenonthephonesomuch.It’snotalwayslikethis,butbeinginthemiddleofplayoffsmeansmytimeis—”
Shelaughsandholdsupahand.“Nathan,please.It’sme—youdon’thavetoexplaintomehowbusyyouareintheplayoffs.I’veactuallybeenthankfulforthetimetomyselfonthisride.”
“Yeah?”Ismileandnodtowardherphone.“What’veyoubeendoing?”
Shebitesherfullbottomlip,andIwonderifitwouldbetoomuchifIdidthatduringourfirstkiss.
“Nothing.”Hercheeksgopink.
IlaughatthewaysheimmediatelytiltsherphonesoIcan’tseethescreen.“Thatprettymuchmeansyou’reabsolutelyuptosomethingthen.Comeon,handitover.”
“No!”Herlongdarkeyelashespracticallytouchhereyebrowswithhowwidesheopenshereyes.“You’lllaughatme.”
“OfcourseIwill,”Isaywithagrin.“Butthat’snothingnew,soletmeseeit.”
Sheletsoutadisgruntledsighthenhandsherphoneover.I’mnowlookingataGooglesearchpagefullofimagesof“celebritiesontheredcarpet”.
Idon’tlaughbecauseIcanseeshe’sgenuinelyembarrassed.“Whyareyoulookingatthis?”
“Because!Ineedtogetideasforhowtopose.You’resousedtoallofthis,but…I’moverheretryingnottohaveafreak-outbecauseinliketwominutesI’mgoingtobeONAREDCARPETFORTHEFIRSTTIMEINMYLIFE!”
Ifeelbadnow.Icompletelyforgottorunherthroughwhattheredcarpetislike.Ofcourseshe’snervous.IrememberfeelingtotallysureIwouldfaceplantduringmyfirstphotoop,andIwasn’tevenwearingfour-inchheelslikesheis.Probablynotthebesttimetotellherwealsohavetopubliclykissforthefirsttimeonthatsameredcarpet.
“Youhavenothingtoworryabout.I’llbetherethewholetime,andI’llmakesureyoudon’ttriporfall.Asforposing,youwanteveryonetohaveachanceatagoodangle.Keepyourshouldersbackandchestproud,andthenpretendyou’retryingtosetupfacialrecognitiononyouriPhone.”
Shesputtersalaughandhershouldersrelax.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Youknow,whenitmakesyouturnyourfaceeverywhichwaysoitcanlearneverydetailofyourfacetounlockit.Dothatwiththecameras.Lookleft,right,tiltyourchinupslightlyinonedirection,andthenrepeatontheotherside.”
Shenods,focusingonmyinstructions.“Okay,andwhatdoIdowithmyhands?”
“You’llbeholdingmyhandwithyourleft,andtheotherhandcangotoyourhip.Don’tworryaboutknowingwhentowalkandwhentostop.I’llguideyouthewholeway.”
Shetakesinadeepbreath,andIdon’tletmyeyesfalltothepartofhercleavagethat’sshowingunderthatsheerpieceofsparklyfabric.ButIwantto.
“Thankyou.Isit…isitbadthatI’mlookingforwardtothisalittle?”
Somethingaboutthosewordseasestheconstrictioninmychest.She’sexcited?Breehasalwaysmadeitapointtotellmehowmuchshewouldhatetobeinvolvedinthispartofmylife.Ilickmylipsinlieuofpouncingonherstatement.“I’mhappyyouare.BecauseIlikeyouherewithme.”
Herbrighteyesshifttome,andsuddenly,thisSUVfeelssmall.Likeagloriouslyteenytinybox.
“Weneedtokiss,”Istatewithzerotact.
Herexpressionfalls.“Excuseme?”
Iclearmythroatandmentallypunchmyselfforbeingthefarthestthingfromsmooth.“Ontheredcarpet.That’swhatTimwastellingmeonthephone.Nicolethinksitwouldbegoodforour‘coupleimage’tokissbrieflywhilethey’retakingpictures.”
Bree’seyesaresowideI’mafraidthey’regoingtofalloutofherhead.Shetwistsherhandsinherlap.Ifshewerestanding,she’dbepacing.“Ican’tkissyououtthere!I’mworriedaboutjustsmilingasitis!Kissingisgoingto…Nathan…ohmygosh.Ourfirstkisscan’tbeinfrontofpaparazzi!”
Mystomachflipsatherwords:firstkiss.Likesheknowsforsuretherewillbemore.
“Doyou—doyouwantmetokissyounow?”IHATEhownervousIfeelrightnow.Don’tletyourvoicequiverlikeadamnfool.
“No!Absolutelynot!”Shepauses,looksoutthewindowforafewseconds,andthenpivotshergazebacktome.“Well,maybe.Actually,yes.”Anotherpausewithadefinitiveheadshake.“Wait,no.It’sbettertoonlykissinpublicsowedon’tfeellikeit’sreal.”
“Itwillbereal.”
Sheglaresatme.“No.It.Won’t.”
“Myveryreallipswillbeonyourveryreallips,Bree.That’stheverydefinitionofreal.Itwillnotbeinourheads.”
Shegetsreadytoputherhandsoverherfacebutpauseswhensheremembersshecan’tmessuphermakeup.Shewhimpersinstead.“Ugh.Nathan.”Hereyesslidetome,andshelooksscared.“It’s…alot.Allofthis.Meandyou.”
“Iknow.”Iwanttorestmyhandonherthightocomforther,butIknowthatwouldmakeitworse.Instead,IfeellikeIshouldsitonmyhandssotheydon’tgetanyideas.I’msupposedtobeinchingBreeintothisshiftinourrelationship,nottossingheroverthefrontoftheboatwithoutalifejacket.“Lookatme,Bree.”
Shedoes,andhereyesarefilledwithsomanyemotionsIcan’tread.
“It’sjustme.Meandyou.NathanandBreeCheese.Kissingwon’tchangethat.”It’llmakeallthosethingsbetter.
Theheavinessinherexpressionlightens,andshesmiles.“You’reright.It’sjustakiss.Nobigdeal.”
Well,that’snotexactlywhatImeant.
Idon’tgetachancetoexpound,andwedon’thavetimetopracticeourkissevenifwewantedto.TheSUVslowstoastop,andBree’sfrantic,terrifiedeyesflytome.Ohno.Shelookslikeshe’sgoingtopuke.Now,Idoreachoverandsqueezeherthigh.Herskiniswarmandsmoothbeneathmyfingertips.Idon’tletmybrainregisterhowgoodshefeels.Ican’trightnoworI’lllosemymind.
Sheswallows,andthenthedooropens.There’simmediatelyanexplosionofcheersfromfanslurkingbeyondtheropeandflashesofcameraswantingtocatchtheexactmomentwestepontotheredcarpet.
IgiveBreeonequicknod.Shenodsback,andwe’rereallydoingthis.Together.It’smydreamcometrue,andIonlyhopethisdoesn’tendupbeingBree’snightmare.
ImmediatelythisnightisdifferentfromalltheothereventsI’vehadtoendurewithoutherbymyside.ThewholeenergyisdifferentwithBreegrippingmyhandandstickingtomelikeaJunebugaswestridedowntheredcarpet.Ikeepglancingbackathertomakesureshe’snotpukingwhilewalking,butafterabouttensteps,hersmilechangesfromtightandterrifiedtosofterandmoreconfident.
Iknowthatfeeling.It’sthesameaswhenyoujumpoffadivingboardforthefirsttime.Thatfirstsecondafteryoujumpistheworst,andthenfromthere,it’seasy.There’snothingtodobutenjoythefreefall.
Bree’shandsqueezesmine,andIlookbacktoseehercrinklehernoseatmeinhersignaturecutesmile.It’sherCanyouevenbelieveit?look.Myheartbursts.It’swideopen,completelyhersforthetaking.Alwayshasbeen.
“Nathan!Overhere!”
“Nathan!!Bree!”
Thepaparazziareloudandtheflashesarebright,butIbarelyregisterthemasBreeandIcometoastopinfrontofthebackdropwithProSportsMagazine’slogoprintedalloverit.Becauseit’stimetokissBree.
Iletgoofherhandtowrapminearoundherhipandanglemyselfalittlemoretowardher,makingsuretokeepthemajorityofourbodiesfacingthephotographers.Suddenly,Ihatethatthishastobeourfirstkiss.It’stheworst.Itfeelsstiff.Calculated.Sofarfromromanticwemightaswellbeinagarbagedumpwitharottenbananapeellayingovermyhead.There’snowaythisisgoingtomakeherkneesweak,andIdon’twanttosettleforanythingless
IfeelBreetakeinadeepbreathassheangleshersmileuptowardme.Morephotographersareshouting.Oneyells,“Giveusakiss!”BreewidenshereyesinaGoaheadlook.Andnowthat’swhattheyareallchanting.Nicolewasright—everyoneisdyingforthis.I’mdyingforthis.IjustwantitintheprivacyofmyownhomewhereIcangiveBreetheattentionshedeserves.WhereIcanpinheragainstthewall.WhereIcanworshiphermouthlikeI’vebeendreamingaboutforyears.
Thisismyoneshot,andI’mgoingtoruinit.ShouldIjusttakeherlipsinaharshkiss?ShouldIletitrolllowandslow?Shoulditbeapeck?Damn.Ican’t.Nowmyheartispoundingpainfully,myhandsaresweating,andwe’vebeeninthisspottoolong.Thewomanwithaclipboardandawalkie-talkieistellingusweneedtokeepmoving.We’remonopolizingtheredcarpetandshewantsustogetlostsothenextSUVthatjustpulledupcanunload.ButIcan’tmove.Myhandsarefeelingpinchyandtingly,andmyfaceishot.Theflashinglightsarepainfulandtheabrasiveshoutsareclosinginaroundme.What’shappening?It’sthesamesensationIfeltinthetunnelbeforethelastgame.IthinkI’mgoingtopassout.
Bree’ssmileslipsforonlyasecond.ShemustseesomethinginmyfacethatIdon’tmeantobeshowing.Herdelicatehandcomesuptomyjaw,andshesmilesforreal.It’ssoft.Ablanket.ABreeandNathansmile.
“Youstillwithme?”sheasksquietly,makingmefocusononlyher.Iletmyselfdrowninher,andmypulsecalmsalittle.
Inodandswallow.Sherisesuponhertiptoesandplacesasoft,quickkissonmylips.Isqueezeherhip,wantingtokeepherhere,wantingtosoakupeverymomentofhermouthpressedagainstmine,butalltooquickly,shepullsaway.Shefacesthephotographersagainandanglesherfaceintwomoredirectionslikeshe’sbeendoingthisherwholelife.Apparentlysatisfiedwiththeamountofphotostaken,shecrossesinfrontofme,takesmyhand,andpullsmealongbehindher,smilinglikeaseductivequeenbackatme.Everyoneshouldbowdowntoherasshepasses.Ifollowalong,herlostpuppy.ShesqueezesmyfingersafewtimesaswewalklikeIdidforheronthewayin.I’mstillinadaze,notquiteregisteringeverythingaroundus,butI’msurethatlaterwhenI’malone,I’mgoingtokickmyselfforruiningourfirstkiss.IgetNathanintothetentandpullhimofftothesidequickly.Heisnotthekindofmanthat’seasytohidethough.I’mbasicallysneakingahulkingbearintoateaparty.Here,grizzly,wearthiscutelittlehatandnoonewillnotice!Everyonestillnotices.Headseverywhereareturningaswewalkin,whichmeanswehaveaboutthirtysecondsbeforesomeonedecidestheyneedtobeobnoxiousandmonopolizehistime.Somanypeoplearealreadygatheredhere,professionalathletesandcelebritiesgalore.It’sanall-you-can-eat-buffetofpeopleIliketostalkonsocialmedia.Can’tfocusonthatnowthough.
IlinkmyarmthroughNathan’sandguidehimtenstepstothesideofthetententrancebeforepivotingussohisbackistothecrowdandhischestisfacingme.I’mhopingI’llbeabletogivehimatleastafewsecondsawayfrompryingeyes.Hisgazestilllookssortofglassy,andthosedarkcirclesInoticedtheotherdayhaveworsened.Ican’thelpbutfeellikeweshouldn’tbeheretonight.Nathanisexhausted.
“Hey.”Istepcloserandrestmyhandonhischestsoeveryoneknowsthisisanintimateconversationtheyshouldn’tinterrupt.Andalsobecause,hello,Iliketouchinghim.Hefeelssosolidbeneathmytouch.“Areyouokay?Shouldwegohome?It’sokayifyousayyes.”
Hiseyesdroptomypalmpressingagainsthisfirmchest,andhecoversitwithhishand.Thecontactisajoltthroughmyveins.ItremindsmethatIjustkissedhim.Ontheredcarpet.Infrontofeveryone.
ItwassobriefandfullofonlookersthatIbarelyregisteredit.Andthen,thesecondIpulledaway,Ifeltdisappointed.Notbecauseitlackedsparks,butbecauseIdidn’tgetachancetopayattentiontothesparks.IwastooworriedaboutthepanicattackIthinkNathanwashavingoutthereandfocusedongettingusoffthatredcarpetbeforeeveryphotointomorrow’sgossipmagazinesshowedNathanlookinglikeadeerinheadlights.Thetabloidswouldhavehadafielddaycomingupwithliestoexplainhisexpression:NathanDonelsonlosingthefightagainstnarcoticpills!
Hebreathesdeep,andIfeelhischestexpandagainstmypalm.“Sorryaboutthatbackthere.I’mokaynow.”
It’ssolikeNathantobreezeoverthis.“Areyousure?Itlookedlikeyouwerehavingapanicattack.”
Hegrimacesandlooksleft,thesharp,strongcornerofhisjawemphasized.“Nah—Idon’tgetthose.”
Ilaughbecausethemanisdeadserious.Likehe’ssomesuperbreedofhumanthatjustdoesn’thavementalhealthissuesfromtimetotime.Lookout,science,we’vefoundamanwhoneverfeelsstressed!
“Youdon’thavetohaveananxietydisordertogetapanicattack.Sometimestheycancomeonfromtoomuchstress,oroverextendingyourself,or—”
“Bree,I’mtellingyou,I’mfine.”Nathancutsmeoffwithapleadingvoice.Hereallydoesnotwanttotalkaboutthisrightnow,andjudgingbythewayhisfacehasgonepink,Ithinkhe’sembarrassed.“C’mon.Let’sgohaveagoodtime.”
Inod,takingpityonhimandhisembarrassment.Wecantalkaboutallofthislaterwhenwe’reinprivate.“Okay,let’sdothisthing.”
Nathantakesmyhandandturnsustowardtheroom.That’swhenIreallylookatthecrowdforthefirsttime,andnowit’smyturntofreeze.Thisglitzy,glamorouspartytentisstuffedwithimportantfamouspeople.Athletesfromeverysport.Actorsandsingers.Idoubtthereisasinglenormalpersonhere.Correction:ThereisexactlyONEnormal
“Changedmymind,Iwanttogohome.”IletgoofNathan’sarmandtakefiveretreatingstepsbackwardrightintoagiantstandingposter.
IwishIcouldsayIjustbumpitlightlyandeverythingisokay.Butno.Ithappensinslowmotion.Ifeelthethinpaperatmyback,butmyhighheelgetsstuckonthestandthat’sproppingitup.IfeelmyselffallingbackwardandseeNathan’seyesgowideandhismouthformsmyname.Hishandsshootouttograbme,buthe’snotfastenough.Icareenbackwardrightthoughtheposterandhearitriprightdownthemiddle.Onthebrightside,Idon’tfalltotheground.Isomehowmanagetostumbleonmyfeet.Onthedarkside,Inowstandinthemiddleofanine-foot-tallrippedposter,andeveryeyeintheeventisonme.
Yep,I’mgoingtothrowup.Iturnaroundtoquicklygrabeachsideofthetornposterandstickitbacktogether.AndnowIrealizebelatedlythatthisposterIhavetornisaGoliath-sizedimageofanakedNathanDonelson,andmyhandsaredirectlyholdinghishands…akahishandsthatareholdingthefootballthat’sperfectlypositionedinfrontofhimtokeepthisphotoPG-13.RealizationdawnsonmeasIlookaroundandfindmanysimilarpostersofotherathletes,allfeaturingoneoftheirphotosfromtheformissue.Ithenseeaphotoopstationinthecornerwithabackdropthatreads“FORMISSUE’S10THBIRTHDAYCELEBRATION!”Therearefakeillustratedmusclesyoucanuseasprops.Cute.
Right.I’mfacetothighswithNathan’sblown-upnakedform,lookinglikethebiggestpervertintheroom.Timespeedsbackup.Iyelpanddroptheposter.NakedNathanfloatsinthewindasheseparatesandfallslimplyopen,showinghowI’vecompletelyruinedwhatwasprobablyacouple-hundred-dollarposter.Ihearseverallaughsbehindmeandafewohnos,butmainlyit’sheavysilence.Myfaceissohotit’sgoingtomeltoffmybones.
Nathanstepsupbesideme,wrapshishandaroundmybicep,andpresseshischesttomybacksohecanleandownandwhisper,“Areyouokay?”
Ishakemyheadinafewquickmovements.“Howquicklycanyougetmetoanewcontinent?”
Nathanisstilllaughingatmeduringtheelevatorrideuptohisapartment.He’sbeenchucklingeversincewelefttheparty,andanytimeIthinkhe’sgoingtospeak,Iholdmyfingerupathim.Don’tyoudare.
Allinall,thepostershreddingwasn’tthatbigofadeal.Nathan—theenigmatic,sexy,lifeofthepartythatheis—easilyturnedthewholesituationaroundtobeframedinanendearinglight.Hefacedthecrowdandlethisvoicecarryacrosstheroomwithoneofhistrademarksmiles.“So…Ithinkmygirlfriendwantstoboxthisoneupandtakeithome—canwegetalittlehelpwiththat?”
EveryoneexplodedwithlaughterandIdidalittlestagebow,andsomehow,thatmadeusthehitoftheevent.NathanandIevenposedbesidethetornphoto,andwhenIpostedit,Iaddedacaptionthatread:IfonlyTidepenscouldwipeoutembarrassingsituations.Itgotfourthousandlikesinthefirsthour.
Thewholenight,webarelygotamomenttoourselvesbecauseabsolutelyeveryoneandtheirmotherwantedtospeakwithNathanandwishhimluckintheplayoffs.Ididn’tmind.Itfeltgoodtoholdhishandandbeintroducedtosomanypeopleashisgirlfriend.TherewasalsosomethingdeeplysatisfyingaboutseeingNathangiveeveryonehisbusinesssmile.Itneverreacheshiseyes,andonlyIwouldknowthat,becausenow,he’sgivingmehissmile.TheoneI’veseensincehighschool.
Nathanripshistiefromhisneckandloosensthetopbuttonofhisshirtaswewalkthroughthefoyerofhisapartment.Ikickoffmyheelsandhetosseshiscoatandtieontotheentrytable,andnowit’sjustusandthewavesoutsidehiswindowcrashingontotheshore.Icanbreathe.AthrilltricklesthroughmewhenIrealizethistimeI’mtheMe.Iwasoutwithhiminfrontofeveryone,and…Ilovedit.Whichisbad.Verybad.
HowdoIstuffthisjackbackinthebox?
Ifreezebythedoor,andNathankeepswalking.IttakeshimafewsecondstorealizeI’mnotwithhimanymore,andthenhelooksbackoverhisshoulderwithafadingsmile.“What’swrong?”
Oh,nothingmuch.Justhavinganinternalfreak-outbecauseI’mrealizingthefullextentofhowmuchI’vewantedthislifewithyou.Nobigdeal.
“Nothing’swrong.”Mybarefeetarebackingup.
Nathangivesmeaskepticalsideglance.“Bree…”
Myshoesareinthecornerbythedoor,butIdon’thavetimetograbthem.IfI’mgoingtomakeabreakforit,I’vegottomovefast.Iturnaroundtobolt,butNathanisonmeintwosecondsflat,takingmylegsoutfromundermeandscoopingmeupinhisarms.
“Noway.You’renotgettingoutofherethatfast.”Hecarriesmetothecouchanddepositsmeonacushion.Hepointsasternfingeratme.“Stay.Nothingisdifferent.Wearecompletelynormal.”Thenhedisappearsintothekitchentograbsomething.
Thelightsarestilllowwhenhereturns,andIneedsomeonetokickthehighbeamsonbecausehelookstoosuave,tooJamesBondishinthisromanticlightingwiththedarkoceanroaringinthebackground.Andthewayhelooksatme,Ifeellikeourfriendshipisatickingtimebomb.IjustknowI’mgoingtolosemybestfriendsomehow.
Nathan’sshirtisuntuckednowandhangingloose.HestopsrightinfrontofmeandtossesanunopenedStarburstlogintomylap.“Ikeepthisforemergencies.Ithinkthismomentconstitutesone.”
Ismiledownatmyfavoritecandy,andmyshouldersrelaxalittle.Howdoeshealwaysknowtheexactrightthingtodototakecareofme?
“I’mgoingtoruntothebathroomrealquick.PleasebeherewhenIcomeback.”Hiswordsaregentleandsweet,andforsomereason,thisshiftsmymindbacktothefeelofhislipsagainstmine.
WhileNathanisgone,Iclosemyeyesandtrytoremembereverydetail,butit’stoohazy.Likeadeliciousdreamyouwakeupfromandfeelslippingthroughyourfingers.Didthatkissevenhappen?Nathanhasn’tmentioneditonce,soitmustnothavemeantmuchtohim.Butreally,howcouldit?Itlastedmaybetwoseconds.
Itmeantsomethingtome.
NathancomesbackintotheroomjustasIshoveapinksquareintomymouth.Helooksincredibleinhissuitpantsandlooseneddressshirt.Mymouthwaters,butnotfromthecandy.
Hesitsdownonthefarendofthecouchandsmiles.“Better?”
Inodandshiftthesofttaffytomyrightcheek.I’machipmunkwhohoardspinkStarburst.“Better.”
“DoyouwanttowatchsomeTV?Pickupwhereweleftoffinthatcomedyspecial?”He’salreadyreachingfortheremoteandmygazesnagsonhisexposed,muscledforearm.I’mhyperawareofhiminwaysI’veneverletmyselfdwellonbefore.
TheTVturnsonandacomedianspoutsoffajokeaboutpancakes.Then,asifnothingintheworldisdifferent,Nathan’shandwrapsaroundmybarefootandpivotsmywholebodysohecanpullmyfeetintohislap.Istarewithmymouthhanginglooseashisthumbspushinandglideupmyarches.Hisstrong,callousedfingerskneadmysorefeetwithexpertcare,evengoingsofarastodippastmyankleandpressintomycalves.Forashotasmyskinfeels,hishandsaresomehowhotter.Likestones,freshfromafireandmeltingmyskinaway
AllIcandoisstare,blink,savor.He’stouchingmeinanintimatewaythathasneverhappenedasfriendsbefore.Butforhowmuchofaliving,breathinghottamaleIamrightnow,Nathanisnotevenfocusingonthelife-changingmassagehe’sgivingme.He’swatchingthecomedyspecial,loose-limbedandrelaxed.Yeah,nobigdeal.Arewejustthosekindsoffriendsnow?Friendswhooccasionallydate?Friendswhosnuggle?Friendswho…
“Nathan,wekissedtonight,”Iblurt.Cool,Bree.Cool.Niceandsmooth.
Nathan’shandsfreezeonmyskin,andhisbrowsflyup.HepausestheTVthenswivelshisgazetome.Ikindofwishhe’dleftitgoingsoitwouldfilltheuncomfortablesilence,butnowwe’realonewithmystatementandit’sflickingusbothbetweentheeyes.
“I’msurprisedyouwanttoacknowledgeit,”hesays,confusingmewiththatanswer.
“Doyounotwantto?”
Thecornerofhismouthtiltsup.“I’lltalkaboutanythingyouwant,anytimeyouwant.Wecaneventalkabouthowyoudestroyedmynakedphotobecauseyouweresojealousofanyoneelseseeingit.”
IgaspandthrowanorangeStarburstathim.Helaughsasitbouncesoffhisbicep.“Nottrue!Ididnotdestroythatposteronpurpose!Ididn’tevenseeitbeforemybuttslicedthroughit!Infact,youcouldhavewarnedmethatwewereheadedtocelebratethebirthdayoftheFORMISSUE!”
Hechuckleswithhisheadfallingbackagainstthecouchandlightlyswatsmyshintwicelikehedoeshisthighwhenhelaughstoohard.“Yourfacewassopriceless!Redasastoplight.”
Iputmyhandsovermycheeks,afraidthey’restillglowing.“STOP!You’resomean.”
He’sstilllaughing—shouldersshaking,stomachclenching.“Ihadnoideamynakednesswouldaffectyousomuch.It’snotlikeyouhaven’tseenthatimagebefore.Andit’snothingcomparedtotherestofthemfromthatspread.”
Igivehimameaningfullook,feelinglikewe’retiptoeingtowardsomethingweshouldn’tbutalsodesperatelywantingto.“I…wouldn’tknow.”Ibusymyselfbytryingtoyankdownthehemofmyshortdresstoaddsomeclasstothissetting.
WhenIlookup,Nathan’ssmileiscurious.“Whatdoyoumeanyouwouldn’tknow?”
Iraiseoneshoulder.“I’veneverlookedinside.”
“Youhaven’t?”
“Okay,well,youdon’tneedtosoundsodisbelieving.It’strue,somewomencanresistlookingatnudeyphotosofyou.”Justbarelythough.
“Youhaven’tevenbeentheleastbitcurious?”Hisvoiceisdoingsomethingnew.Somethinggrowly.Somethingthatmakesmystomachbunchandtwist.
“No.”It’sabald-facedlie.“Friendsdon’tseefriendsnaked.It’sthemostbasicruleofhumanity.”
Nathan’slonglegsaresittingat90degreeanglesinfrontofhim.Solidtreetrunkstakingroot.Hemoveshisarmtodrapeoverthebackofthecouch,hisfingertipsever-so-slightlybrushingmyshoulderashisotherhandmovestorestonmyankle.Histhumbmovesupanddown.Upanddown.Upanddown.Butthemostcuriousthingisthewayhisgazeshootsforwardandhe’sbitingdownonhislips.
“What?”Iask,feelingtheearthshiftbeneathme.“What’sthatfacefor?”Ipokehiminthecheek.
“Hmm?Nothing.”
“You’retheworstliar,Nathan.Seriously,Ihopeyouneverplaypokeroryou’llloseallyourmoney.Spillit.”
Hisdarkeyesslidetome.“You’llwishIhadn’tifItellyou.”
Myheartraces.“Okay,wellnowyoureallyhavetotellme.Infact,Idemandit.”
Heletsoutadeflatingpuffofairfromhischeekswhilerollinghisheadfromsidetosidelikehe’sgettingupthecourage.“I’ve…I’veseenyounaked.There,Isaidit.”
Forsomereason,mynaturalinstinctwhenhearingthosewordsistoshoottomyfeetandthrowacouchpillowathim.“Noyouhavenot!”
Nathan’slaughfeelssurreal.LikeI’mdreaming.“Ireallyhave.Itwasanaccident.Youweregettingoutoftheshower,and—whoa!Areyouokay?Bree,sitdown.Youlooklikeyou’regoingtopassout.”
Iam.Iamonehundredpercentgoingtopassout.NathanDonelsonhasseenmenakedandIhadnoidea!Thisisnotokay.WhatwasIdoing?Ohgosh,pleasetellmeIwasn’tdancingorsomethinghorrible.Maybethisiswhyhe’snevermadeamoveonme.Hesawmenakedandfeltnothing!
Nathantakesmyarmandtugsmedownbesidehimonthecouch.Andhere’stheproblemwiththiswholesituation:He’smybestfriendwhoIalwaysturntoinsituationslikethis,soeventhoughhe’stheoneI’membarrassedaround,he’salsotheonewhosechestIburymyfaceinforcomfort.Hislongarmsengulfmeandhesecuresmetohim.I’manchored.Hiscolognewashesoverme,andnowIknowthiswasamistake.He’snotgoingtoletmego.
“See,thisisexactlywhyIdidn’ttellyou.Iknewyou’dfreakout,andIwasafraidyou’dtakeyourkeyawayfromme.”
“Goodidea.Iwantmykeyback!”
“Notachance.Bree,wecanbeadultsaboutthis.”
“Nowecan’t!We’renotadultsaboutanything—whywouldyouexpectthatnow?I’msohumiliated.Didyoulinger?Didyoustare?Howmuchofalookdidyouget?And…what…angle?”Idon’twanttoknowanyofthis,butI’malsodesperatetoknow.Likeatrainderailing.Youcan’tlookawayfromsomethinglikethat.
Nathansortofgrowls,andIfeelhisheadtiltbacklikehe’slookingattheceiling.“Okay.No,Ididn’tlinger,becauseI’mnotaperv.And…itwassortofa360-degreeanglebecauseyouwalkedoutofyourbathroomandthen…Idon’tknow,forgotsomethingyouneededinthereandspunaroundtogobackin.”
Well,let’scallit,folks.BreeCamden’stimeofdeath:10:30PM.Diedofhumiliationoverdose.
Igroanandwhimperinsuccession,buryingmyfaceharderintohischest.Iwillburrowinhereandnevercomebackout.Sure,I’llbeattachedtohimforever,butatleasthe’llnevergettolookatmeagain.
Hishandlightlystrokesdownthebackofmyhair.“Igottasay,Idon’ttakeyouforawalk-around-nakedkindofagirl.Youdon’tevenwearbikinistothepool.”
“Iwasprobablywaitingforself-tanninglotiontodry.”
NathanisquietforsolongIthinkhefellasleep.Ipeekupathimandseehisglazed-overeyesstaringintothedistance.AndthenIrealizewhat’shappening.
Iclaploudlyinfrontofhisface.“Ohnoyoudon’t!Youdon’tgettopicturemenaked!”
“Sorry.”Heblinks,lookingsheepish.“Youmentionedtheself-tannerandthen…nevermind.”
Iclenchmyteeth.“Thisiscompletelyunacceptable.”
Hissmileturnscompassionate.“Bree,I’msosorry.WhatcanIdotomakeitbetter?Stoptalkingaboutit?TellyouwhatIthoughtwhenIsawyou?”
“NO!HELLNO!”IpushoutofNathan’sarmsandstand.I’mpacinglikeapantherinacageatthezoo.Anideaimmediatelystrikesme,andIdon’tgiveitasecondthoughtbeforeblurtingitout.“Youcantakeoffyourclothesandeventhescore.”
Nathanblinksupatme.Stunned.
Imean,Igetit.Ididn’texpectmyselftosaythateither.Butit’sasolididea!Hegottoseemenakedinaless-than-favorablesituation,andnowIgettoseehimnakedinthesamesortofsituation.
Heswallows.“Oryoucouldjustgograboneofthosemagazinesandfinallytakealook.”
“No.”Ishakemyhead,adefianttoddler.“You’reperfectlylitinthose,oiled,and—let’sbereal—probablyairbrushed.You’lllooklikeagodamongmen,andthat’snotfairbecauseyousawmeinharshlightandbobbingaround.”
Hetriestostifleasmile.Itmakesmemoreangry.Idoonequickup,up,upmotion,tellinghimtogethissmugassoffthecouch.Hegroans,hangshisheaddown,andthenslowlyrisestohisfullheight.Goodgracioushe’slikeatower.Jetblackeyesmeetminefromwherehe’sstandingthreefeetaway,andhearcheshisbrow.“Areyousurethisisagoodidea?”
“It’sagreatidea!Gettoit.”Myeyesprobablylookferal.Likearabidsquirrelyoudon’twanttorunintoatthepark.
Nathandoesn’tblushlikeIhope.Hedoesn’tlookinsecureorscaredaboutwhatI’mgoingtofindunderhisclothes.Hejustbeginsunbuttoninghisshirt.Hishandsaresteadyasheworks,andmylegsareshakinglikethoseofanewlybirthedfawn.Witheveryundonebutton,Iquestionmysanityinrequestingthis,butIdon’ttellhimtostop.
Threebuttonsdown,andIseeatriangleoftannedflesh.Fourbuttons.Five,andnowthere’saslightsprinkleofhair.
Hepauseswithateasingglint.“Youwantacigarorsomething?Maybeputyourfeetup?”
“Shush.Thisisfair.”That’stheonlyreasonI’mdoingthis.Theonlyreason.
Nathan’sfingersreachthelastbutton,andthenheslideshisshirtdownoffhisshouldersandtossesitonthecouch.I’veseenhimwithouthisshirtsomanytimesbefore,butthisis…different.Hisshouldersarecutgranite,andhiscollarbonesareliketwocrowbarspressingagainsthisgoldenvelvetyskin.Shadowspaintaroundtheridgesofhisabsandobliques,makingthemlooklikesteppingstonesdowntoaperfectlytaperedwaist.HisAdonisVdisappearsintonicelypressedsuitpantsheldupbyamatteblackbelt.Heismuscles,tendons,veins,andachinghandsomeness.Gorgeousinawaynohumanshouldbe.Magneticandelectricatonce.HedrawsmeinandwillelectrocutemeifItouchhim.
WhowasIfreakingkidding?Lightingdoesn’tmatteronebitforabodylikeNathan’s.Hecouldbeundersharpfluorescentdoctor’sofficelighting,andmytonguewouldstillbelollingoutthesideofmymouth.
Hisblackeyesflareasheundoeshisbelt,andnowI’mfeelingwoozy.Ididn’tthinkthisthrough.Whathappensafterhe’snaked?Mymindfillsinthatblankforme,andthesoundofhisbeltslidingoutofhispantloopssoundssharptomyears.Mypulsehammersinmyneck,andIwatcheverydetailofhissinewyfleshmovingashethrowsthebeltnexttohisdiscardedshirt.I’msuddenlyawarethatIwantthistoomuch.Thatmyhandsaregrippingthefabricofmydress.Thisisgoingtochangeeverything,andIWANTthat.IwantNathanlikethis.Notfriendly.Alittledangerous.Alittletaunting.Alotsexy.
Iwanttotakeastepcloserandrunmyhandsdownhisabdomen.Wrapmyarmsaroundhisneckandlethimholdmeagainsthismasculineform.
Nathanpauseswithhishandonthebuttonofhispants,andthenwhenheflicksitopenandIcanseethebandofhisblackbriefs,realitycrashesintome.He’sreallygoingtodoit.He’sgoingtogetnakedrighthereinthelivingroom,enactingthefantasyofeverywomaninAmerica(includingme).Theairaroundmeisburning,andbeforehecanmakeanothermove,Ishootmyhandsoutinfrontofme.
“Stop!”
Hefreezes,eyesslicinguptome,lipspartedinsurpriseandpecsflexingfromhowIstartledhim.Hedoesn’tsayanything,andmybreathcomesoutinatremble.Ishakemyhead.WhatwasIthinking?Ican’tdothis.Itwouldbejumping-out-of-a-plane-without-a-parachute-levellife-changing.
I’vegottobacktrack.
“Kidding!”Iblurtoutlikethiswasagiganticprankthewholetime.Ha-ha!Youtotallyfellforit!IlaughandturnawayfromNathanjustsoIcanletoutabigpuffofair.Ihave2.1secondstosalvagethisbeforeitbecomesweirdforeveryone.Iletthisnightgetthebestofmeandamstartingtolosesightoftheplan.
Staystrong,Bree.You’redazzledbythefakerelationship.
WithmybacktoNathan,Imentallyrepeatmysecretrulesforasuccessfulfriendship.
1.Keepthosefeelingswrappeduplikeaneggsaladatachurchpotluck—they’renotactuallygoodforanyone.
2.Nathanisanatural-bornflirt.Don’tembarrassyourselfbymisinterpretinghispersonalityforflirting.
3.Don’tlookathisbareskinoryouwillburnalive.
Ihalfwaybrokethatlastrule,andI’llsuffertheconsequencesfromnowon.Igatherallofthesefeelingsbuzzingaroundmybodylikeahornet’snestandputtheminajar.Iscrewonthelid.SealitwithLockTightjusttobecertainnostragglersgetaway.AndthenIturnaround.Ohmygosh,IneedtoholdmyhandinfrontofmesoIcan’tseehisbody.
“So…kidding?”heasks,andtheboyishuncertaintyonhisfacenearlykillsme.
“Yeah!”Ilaughalittletooloud.“Ohmygosh,nowaywouldIactuallyletyougetthosepantsoff.Idon’tneedtoseeallthat.Justwantedtomesswithyouandseehowfaryou’dgo.”
“Prettyfar,”hesayswithanamusedtickofhislips.Itmakesmystomachturninsideoutlikeareversiblejacket
Istareonemoremomentatallthatheisandthenclearmythroatandheadforthedoorlikeawomanwhostillhasallofherfacultiesintact.Ineedtostartcarryingaroundsmellingsalts.
“Okay,wellthishasbeenfun!Butwhew,lookatthetime.I’vegottobeupearlyinthemorningtobakecookiesfortheweek!Earlybirdcatchestheworm!”
“Bree?”Nathanaskswithadrawn-outamusedtone.“Areyouokayoverthere?”
Istopjustbrieflytoflashgloriouslywideeyesathim.HOLYMOLYhisbody…it’ssculptedclay—soft,tautlinescutovereverymuscletoperfection.“Moi?”Myhandcoversmyheart.“Sookay!Whydoyouask?”
I’mnowperformingtheflightofthebumblebee,buzzingaroundtheroomandcollectingmythings.Shoes.WHEREAREMYSHOES?!IturnthreecirclesandlooklikeI’mchasingmytail.
Suddenly,Nathan’sbighandcoversmyshoulder.IdropawayfromhistouchlikeI’minTheMatrixavoidingbullets.Helookscompletelyshockedashesilentlyholdsmyheelsouttome.“Well,gladyou’reokay.”HistoneconveysthatI’mfoolingabsolutelynoone.
Itakemyheelsandquicklysliponeonwhilehoppingononefoot.Nathan’shandshootsouttowraparoundmyforearmtosteadyme.Iwanttowhimper/cry/laughbecauseIfeelextrasensitivetohistouch.Oncemyheelsareon,Istartwobblingaway.WobblingbecauseIhaveputmyheelsonthewrongfeet.I’malittlegirlwhosnuckintohermom’sclosetandtriedtosneakoffwithherbestheels.Notimetostopandfixthemthough.Igottagetoutofhere.
“It’sbeensonicetoseeyouasalways,bestie!”Thatwasastrangethingtosay.“Goodluckwiththegamethisweekend!I’llcallyouto—”
Ifeelhishandslideintomineandhetugsmeback.IyelpasNathanspinsmearound,adangerousplayfulglintinhiseyes.“Justaminute,bestie.”
Iholdmybreath,onlythree—maybefour—inchesfromhisbarechest.Mypalmsachetoflattenagainsthispecs.ButthenhischestdisappearsfromviewasNathandropsdowntooneknee.OHMYGOSHISHEPROPO—
Hishandwrapsaroundmyankleandliftsitslightlyofftheground.Thenmyheelgetsslippedoff—thetaleofCinderellaplayedbackward.“You’llsprainyouranklelikethis.”Helowersmybarefoottothegroundthenliftstheotherankle.Thatheelgetspeeledoff,andthenthecorrectonegetsslippedon.Thistimehishandlightlytapsthebackofmycalf,signalingformetoliftmyotherfootagain—andifyou’reguessingI’mdeceasedatthispoint,you’reright.
Nathanfinishesputtingmyheelsonthecorrectfeet,andInoticesomethingoddbeforehestandsbackup—hestaresatmylegsfortwobreaths.Inthosetwobreaths,WILDideasIhavenobusinessimaginingracethroughmyhead.Helooksdownagainandthenstands,butbythetimeherisestohisfullheight,I’malreadyturnedtowardthedoorandracingout,promisinghimI’llcalltomorrow,andmaybealsothatI’llbakehimacake?Idon’tknowwhatthatwasabout,butclearlymyovariesfeelliketheyowehimsomething.Imovelikeazombieallthewaydowntothelobby.Myeyesareunfocused,andI’msuretheladyworkingthefrontdeskassumesI’monsomething.Myheelsecholoudlyacrosstheemptyexpansivelobby,andI’mawareofeverysound.LikemaybewhenIlookbackonthisday,thatwillbethethingIremembermost—thesharpclicks.
I’mnotlettingmyselfthinkaboutwhathappenedbackinthatapartmentyet.Iabsolutelywillnotpokeit,orprodit,ordissectinanyway.Instead,I’mfloatingoutofthemainentrance’sslidingdoors.Chillyair-conditioningcollideswithabalmyoceanbreeze,andI’mstillfloating.Choosingtohyper-focusonhowIfeelandwhatIseejustsoIdon’tletmythoughtstiptoebacktothatmomentupstairs.
Outsideonthesidewalk,IfindtheSUVNathanandIrodeinearlierpullingup,andthat’swhenIrememberthatheaskedhisdrivertoremainonstandbyintheparkinggarageuntilIwasreadytogohome.Thankfully,Ihaven’thadtoomanyissueswithintrusivepaparazziorobsessivefans,butI’vealsonotbeentakingmychancesbywalkingalonetoooften.Tonightthough,Ineedthewalktoclearmyhead.
Robert,oursamedriverfromearliertonight,cutstheengineanddashesfromthedriverseatlikeaNASCARdriveratapitstop.
“Ms.Camden,wait!Mr.Donelsonaskedformetodriveyouhome.”
IlookfromthedrivertofiveblocksdownCherryAvenuetowhereIcanliterallyseemyapartmentbuilding.Sure,it’snighttime,butit’swelllitandtheroadisprettyempty.Itseemsalittleoverkilltodrivetwoincheshome.
“That’sokay.Thankyou,butI’dliketowalk.”
Idon’tneedtogetinNathan’sfancySUVandbefullofeverysinglereminderofthenight.I’mafraidI’llshort-circuit.Ineedtowalkoffmynervesandgetmyheadonstraight,becausesomethingdefinitelyalmostjusthappenedbetweenusandIhavenoideahowtofeelaboutit.NotsureIwanttofeelanythingaboutit.
Ikeepwalking,andRoberthopsintotheSUVandstartscrawlingalongbesideme.Icutmyeyessideways,tryingtofigureoutifhe’sfollowingmeornot.Ispeedupandhedoestoo.Iabruptlystopandsodoeshe.
Iturntohimwithmyhandsonmyhips.“Robert!Rolldownthewindow.”Hecomplies,andnowIcanseehissweetsmilingface.It’shardtobemadatRobertinhiscutedriver’shat.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Seeingyouhome.Mr.DonelsonwasveryspecificthatIneedtomakesureyougethomesafely.”
Igroan.“Soyou’regoingtofollowmelikeastalkerallthewaytomyhome?”
“Ipreferbodyguard.Andyes.”Hegivesmeanapologeticsmile.Heknowshe’sbeingannoying,buthisbosspayshimtoowelltonotobey.“Unlessthere’ssomewhereelseyou’dliketohavemetakeyou?”
Ithinkaboutthisforamoment,andthenrealize,Whyyes!ThereissomewhereI’dlikehimtotakeme.Totheonlypersonwhoalwaysmakeseverythingbetter.
“Okay,butI’mridingshotgunbecausethere’swaytoomuchIneedtotalkabouttobestuffedinthebacklikeasnootypolitician.”
Ithrowarockatthewindow.Nothing.SoIthrowanotherlittlepebble.Itmakesareallybadcrackingsound,andI’mscaredthatmaybeIbrokeit.Thatneverhappensinthemovies!Ithoughtthosethingsweresupposedtobeindestructible!
I’mjustabouttoturntailandrunwhenthecurtainsflutteropenandmysisterglaresdownatmefromhersecond-storywindow.Icanseetheshockregisteronherface.Igesturewildlyforhertoopenthewindowlikemaybeshewouldn’tthinkofdoingitonherown.
SheslidesitopenandIquietlyyell,“Rapunzel,letdownyourhair!”
“Bree?!Whattheheckareyoudoinghere?”Lily’ssocute.Shenevercusses
Ipointaggressivelytowardherfrontdoor.“Comedown!”
“Thisissoweird!IfeellikeI’mdreaming.”
“Itt’sssnooootadreeeammm,”Isayinaspookyvoice.“IamtheghostofChristmas—”
“Ohmygosh,I’llbedowninasecond.”
Twominuteslater,I’msittingonthefrontporchwithmybigsisterandlayingmyheadontheshoulderofherfuzzypinkrobe.
Shenodstowardthecurb.“Who’sthat?”
“Bob.Mydriver.”OnlyhistruefriendscallhimBob.Isatinthefrontwithhimallthewayhereandwesharedabagofconveniencestorecandywhilehetoldmethestoryofhowhemethiswife,Miriam,fortyyearsago.Soyeah,bestfriends.
“WhydoyouhaveaBob?”
“BecauseNathanwouldn’tletmewalkhomealone.”
“Sure.Soundslogical.”We’requietforaminute.“NotthatIdon’tlovehavingyouherewithme,butcanyoupleasetellmewhyintheworldyoudrovetwohoursinthenighttothrowrocksatmywindowandsitonmyporch?”
“Ithoughttherockswouldbecute.Justlikethemovies.ButIthinkImighthavecrackedyourwindowpane.”
“Areyouserious?”sheasksinaheightenedtonethattellsmeshedoesn’tfinditnearlyascuteasIdo.
Igrimace.“No.Justkidding.”Okay,ImighthavetocallinafavorwithNathanandhavehismagicworkerbeesgetthatwindowreplacedbeforemysisterfindsout.
“Oh.”Shesighswithrelief.Ireallyhopeshedoesn’tcheckitlater.“Doyouwantmetogoputonsomewaterfortea?”
“No,thanks.I’vegottogetBobbackhomesoonorMiriamisgoingtohuntmedown.”
Lilylaughsincredulously.“Okay,comeon.Seriously—youdidn’tdriveallthiswayforahug.What’sgoingon?Didsomethinghappen?”
Iwhimperandsnuggledeeperintomysister’ssoftness,lettingtherealityI’vebeenavoidingfinallycrashoverme.“IthinkNathanandIalmostgotfreakytonight.”
“WHAT!I—”
Iwhipmyheaduptolevelherwithasternlook.“IfyousaythewordsItoldyouso,Iwillstealthispinkroberightoffyourbackandgothrowitinamuddypuddle.”
“Rude!Butfine.Iwon’tsayit.JustknowI’mthinkingit.”Shegrinsatme,andIfeelalittlebitoftheweightonmyshoulderslessen.“So,I’mguessingsinceyou’rehereinsteadoftherewithhimthismeansyoudidn’tgetfreaky,asyousoimmaturelyputit?”
“Right.Iwascompletelyincontrolofmyemotionsandabletocalmlyputastoptoitbeforeitwenttoofar.”
Shecoughs.“Youpanicked.”Andcoughsagain.
Ibumphershoulder.“Yes,fine,okay?!Icompletelyspiraled.ItrippedmywayoutofhisapartmentandpromisedI’dbakehimacake.I’macompletemess.”
“Alittlebit,butthat’swhyweloveyou.Sotellmewhathappenedfrombeginningtoend.”
Ido.Itellherabouttearingtheposter(shelaughslikeahyenaandIdon’tappreciateitatall)andthenItellheraboutgoingbacktohisapartmentandhowhe’sseenmenaked(ohgosh,Itotallyforgotaboutthatpartuntiljustnow)andthenItellheraboutthestrippingandhowIcutitoff.Atthatpoint,shepinchesmehardunderthearm.
“OW!Whatwasthatfor?!”
“Forrunningoutonhimmid-striptease!”Hercheeksareseriouslyred.She’ssomadatme.
“Don’tsaystripteaselikethat.Youmakeitsoundliketherewasgyratingandhelicopteringofclothing.”
Sheshakesherhead.“Nexttimethereshouldbe.Ohmygosh,amanlikeNathanDonelsongivingyouastriptease!Andyoustoppedhim!Howareyoumysister?”
“I’mgoingtogowakeupDougandtellonyouifyoudon’tstopbeingsocreepy.”
“Dougwouldbackmeup!I’mgenuinelymadatyou.Ineedaminute.”
Iraisemyeyebrowsandfoldmyarms,waitingformysistertocalmdownfromherconniptionfit.Finally,shetakesinadeepbreathandreleasesit.“Okay.I’mready.”
“Yougood?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Great,nowcanwestopmakingthisaboutyou,please?BecauseI’monthebrinkofabiglifedecisionhereandsortofneedyoursupport.”
“Fine,yes,I’msorry.Proceed.”Shetightensthepinktieofherrobeprimlylikeshewasn’tjustencouragingmetoturnNathanintoaChippendaledancer.
“Ithink…IthinkIwanttoripupmyrulesandseewhathappensbetweenmeandNathan.Youknow,whatdothehipkidssaynowadays?Gowiththeflow?I’msickofbeingjustfriendswithhim.I’mreadytohopeformore.”
Lilyraisesherhandslikeshe’ssittinginchurchandtheHolySpiritreallyspoketoher.“Praisebe.We’veallbeenwaitinglongenough!”
Iclosemyeyesandfinallyletmymindracebacktothatmomentinhislivingroom.It’stimetodissecteverytinyfeatureofhisfacetomakesureI’mmakingtherightdecision.Iusethismemorytotrackthemovementsofhisbody,notoutofdesire(thoughthat’stheretoo),butlikeI’mstudyinganewlanguage,tryingtodecipheritsmeaning.
Inthisrecollection,Nathandoesn’thesitate.Hedoesn’tlookawayfrommeoncewhenIaskhimtoremoveeverythingprotectinghimandstandinfrontofmeexposed.There’strustinhiseyes.IusethefancyCIA-levelsurveillancesysteminmybraintozoominonhisskin.ENHANCE!Chillbumpslinehisarms.Butthen,lastly,whenhelooksupatmewhilehelpingwithmyheels,hishandwrapsaroundmyankle—there,Ipausetheimageandpointtothescreen—inhisfaceisthelookofamanwithfeelings.I’mnotsurehowbigthosefeelingsare,buttheyarerightthereonthesurface.
Iopenmyeyes,couragefillingmeuplikeaballoon.Ican’thidefromriskanymoreorI’mgoingtobesittingallbymyselfinsidetheseprotectivewalls—lonelyanddisappointed—fortherestofmylife.
IlookatLily,squaringmyshoulders.“YouknowwhatI’verealized?It’stimetohopeformorewithNathan,becausehopeishealthy.EvenifIpreparemyselffortheworstinlife,itwillnevermakethefallhurtless.”
Hermouthfallsopeninshock,andthenshesmacksmyarm.“I’MTHEONEWHOTOLDYOUTHAT.”
Iscrunchupmynose.“Idon’tthinkso.”
“Yes.Itwasme.”
“IthinkitwasaninspirationalgraphiconInstagram.”
“ITWASYOURGENIUSBIGSISTER!”
Ilaugh,wrapmyarmaroundherfuzzy-pinkness,andkissheronthecheek.“Thankyou,bigsister.Youareagenius.”
“Anddon’tyouforgetit.”
Wesitlikethisforalittlewhilelonger,talkingaboutlifeandherboysandDoug’srecentpromotionandtheupcomingbirthdaypartyshe’sthrowingformyoldestnephew(ofcourseI’llbethere).Lilyistrulyhappy,andthatfillsmewithjoytonoend.
Finally,sheasks,“Sowhat’snext?AreyougoingtocallNathantomorrowandtellhimyouhavefeelingsforhim?”
“Callhim?!Imighthavehadanepiphanytonight,butI’mnotreadytoplacemyheartonthechoppingblockcompletelyyet.I’mgoingtolayitonthickundertheprotectionofourfakerelationshipandseehowherespondsfirst.I’llhopeprivatelyinmyheart.”
Lilylookshorrified.“Whatdoes‘layitonthick’mean?”
Igawkather.“Youknow,flirting!Beingsexy.”Ishimmymyshouldersonsexy
“I’mconcernedthatyoudon’tknowhowtodoeitherofthosebasedonthephraseyoujustusedandthethingyoujustdidwithyourshoulders.”
“Ohstop.It’ssosexy.Hey,Bob!DoesMiriameverlayitonthick?!”MynewBFFwillbackmeup.
Herollsdownhiswindowwithabeamingsmile.“Ohyeah!Sheneverskimpsonthemayoformyhamsandwiches.”
Igrimace,andLilygloats.Fine.Mysensualphrasesneedsomework.
JustbeforeIstandtoleave,Iremembersomething.“Oh!Wait,Ihavesomethingforyou!”ItellLilywhiledigginginmypurse.
“IsitaBreenket?!Pleasesayitis.NathanisstartingtocollectmorethanmeandIwanttosquashhimnexttimewecompare.”
IpulloutatinylittleBarbie.It’swearinga—
“Pinkrobe!”Lilysayswithahugesmileassherunsherfingersoverthetinylittleplushgarment.
“IsawitinthegrocerystoretheotherdaywhenIgotdistractedontheknickknacksaisle,andIwasmissingyousomuchIhadtobuyit.”
Lily’sarmswraparoundmyshouldersandsqueeze.“Thankyou,Iloveit.AndnowI’mgoingtoownyourman.”
“Notmymanyet.”
Shelaughs.“Bree,darling,he’sbeenyourmanforyears.”“Foodfight?Youactuallydidit?”Jamalasks,lookingupfromasheetofpaperIprintedoffwithallofourlineitemsonit.I’vecrossedoutthethingsI’vealreadytried.IputacheckmarknexttothingsthatwentwellandanXbytheonesthatwereano-go.“Howwasit?”
Inodtowardthesheet.“WhatdoyouthinkthatXmeans?”
DerekslapsJamalinthechestwiththebackofhishand.“Toldyouitwouldn’twork.”
“Youhavenothingtogloatabout,”Isay,sittingforwardsoIcanseeDerek.“Yourwinktankedbigtime.”
LawrenceleansaroundDereksohecansnatchthepaperoutofJamal’shands.“Letmeseethis.”Herunshisfingerdownthelist,andIknowwhathe’shuntingfor.Hisfacesplitsintoavictorioussmilewhenhefindsit.“Iknewrandomlyslowdancingwouldwork.YoucantrusteverythingthathappensinTheNotebooktoberomanticasshit.Youguysneedtolistentomemoreoften.”
“Ilikedyoubetterwhenyouwerethequiet,sullenone,”JamalsaystoLawrence,tappinghisfingersonthearmrestprimly.
Pricechimesinfrommyleft.“Why?Becausehe’sstealingyourthunder?”
Jamalnarrowshiseyeswithamockingsmile.“KeepitupandI’llcomeoverthereandsmudgeyourtoenailpolish.”
“DefinitelynotathreatIeverexpectedtohearinmylifetime.”
Ilookdownatmyownfeet,proppeduponafoldedtowelsomyblackandsilvertoenailscandry.Yeah,wecametoanailsalontodaybecauseafterBreepaintedournailsforthefirstplayoffgameandwewon,wegotprettysuperstitiousaboutit.Aslongaswecontinuewinning,we’llcontinuepainting.Iwouldhaveaskedhertopaintthemagaintoday,butIalsoneededtobrainstormwiththeguys.Sohereweare,justfivebigdudesdestroyingstereotypes,gettingourtoenailspaintedinourteam’scolors,andenjoyingthehelloutofourselves.Didyouknowtheyservechampagneattheseplaces?I’mhonestlyhooked.IneedtobringBreebackhere.
JamalsomehowwrestlesthelistbackfromLawrence.Hewantstoreclaimhisthunder.“Okay,sojudgingbythislist,it’stimetostepupthephysicaltouchanotch.You’veheldhands.Touchedherarmwhiletalking.”He’stickingtheseoffonhisfingers.“Brushedastrandofhairbackfromherface.Rubbedherfeet…yeah,I’dsayit’stimetomakeoutalittleifsheseemsupforit.”
Itemnumber20.Yes,Ihavethemmemorized.Andyes,I’vebeenlookingforwardtothisonemorethantherest.MainlyI’vejustbeenhopingI’dmakeittothisonewithoutBreeshuttingdownonmeandhavingtoabortthewholeplan.Sofar,allsignshavepointedtoward:Yeah,she’sfeelingittoo.I’veneverbeenfullofsomuchhope.OrdreadforifthisallgoeswellandIhavetotellherI’vebeenworkingfromacheatsheetthiswholetime.Butwecancrossthatbridgewhenwegettoit.
“Howthough?Ican’texactlymakeoutwithheronmycouchathomeandusethefakerelationshipexcuse.Andwedon’thaveanyeventscomingup.”
“I’llthrowaparty,”Dereksaysfromhisend.“Afterthegametomorrow.Ifwewin,we’llcallitavictoryparty.Ifwelose,it’saconsolation.Partiesaretheperfectexcusetomakeout.Everyone’salwaysslippingofftoadarkcorner.”
Igrimace,feelingsortofgrosstobepremeditatingamake-outwithBree.“Actually,Idon’twanttoplanthatone.Ifithappensnaturally,ithappens.I’mnotgoingtoforceit.”
Derekrollshiseyes.HethinksI’msuchaprude.“Fine.Butit’sstillagoodplacetoactasaspringboardforafewoftheseotherideas.”
“Youjustwantanexcusetoparty,”saysJamalwithatattletalegrin.
Derekistheresidentplayboy/troublemaker/mediamagnet.He’salwaysgettingintotrouble,whichiswhyduringtheregularseason,Ikeeptheguysonashortleash.There’snothingIcanactuallydotostopthemiftheywanttoparty,butforsomereason,theylookuptome.Theywantmyapproval.Whichiswhyhehasbeenchompingatthebittogetintoalittletrouble.
Derekclaspshishandsbelowhischinlikeapleadingtoddler.“Pllleeeasseeeletmethrowaparty,Dad.”
“IactuallythinkDerekisright,”Jamalsays,thumpingthebackofhisknuckleagainstthesheetofpaper.“Apartyisagreatplacetounexpectedlyshort-circuitafuseandhavetolightabunchofcandles.”
Ilookateachofthehopefulpuppydogfaceslineduparoundme.“Fine.Asmallone.Butyouguysbetternotenduponthenewsthenextmorning.”
Derekisalreadyrippinghisphonefromhispocketandhisthumbsflyacrosshisscreen.Jamalchucklesunderhisbreathbesidemeandstartsreadingdownthelistagain.
“Wait—didyoureallygetstuckinanelevator?”
Itipmyshoulder.“Ipaidmyapartment’ssecurityguardtostopitwhilewewereinsideit.”
Jamal’seyesglimmer.Thiswasanotheroneofhisideas.“And?Didyougetcozy?”
“Shehadtopeeandstartedobsessingaboutpossiblyhavingtourinateinthecorneroftheelevator.Itextedtheguardandtoldhimtogetitrunningagainaftertwominutes.”
Hegroans.“Don’ttellLawrence.”
It’sSundaynight,andBreeandIareonourwaytoDerek’svictoryparty.That’sright,wewonthegame.OnlyonemoretowintosecureaspotintheSuperBowl.Moreimportantly,whetherwewinorlosethisnextgame,theSuperBowlwillstillhappen,whichmeansthecommercialwillstillair,andthisfakerelationshipwillhavenoreasontocontinueon.Noreason,unless…it’snotfakeanymore.
Currently,BreeissittinginthepassengerseatofmytruckreadingmealltheoutrageousDMsshe’sbeengettingfrompryingfanswhileonourwaytotheparty.IonlyhaveafewweekslefttoconvinceBreeofhowgreatwecouldbeasacouple,andIneedtoattendeverypubliceventIcansoIhaveexcusestowooher.
“…andTHENsheasksifIwouldsnapapictureofyouintheshowerandsendittoher!Canyouevenbelievethat?!Naturally,Iaskedhowmuchshe’dbewillingtopayforit.”
Icutheraglance,andshejustlaughsandcontinuesreading.WegoonlikethisfortwentymoreminutesbecauseDereklivesinaritzysuburbancommunityfullofmansionsalittleoutsideofLongBeach.I’mexhaustedfromplayingearliertodayandwishwewereheadedbacktomyplaceinsteadofapartywhereIstillhavetobeon,butthisisimportant.Itemnumber20important.Which,I’mstillnotplanning.Onlyopentothepossibilityshoulditarise.
YoumightbewonderingifI’mnervousabouttonightandtheprospectoffinallymakingoutwiththewomanI’velovedsinceIwasseventeen.Nah,I’vegoneoutwithsomanywomen,and—YESI’MFREAKINGOUT.MypalmsaresosweatyIcanbarelyturnthesteeringwheel.Myheartishittingmyribssohardthey’recracking.I’msureshecanhearit.ProbablythinksitsoundslikeI’mcrinklingcandywrappers,butnope,it’sjustmybonesdisintegrating.
I’mhopingtocrosssomemajorlineswithmybestfriendtonight,andifshedoesn’treciprocate,ifshestillseesmeasabrotherafterthis,I’mthrowinginthetowel.Iwon’tforcesomethingbetweenus,andIwon’truinourfriendshipintheprocess.IfImakeamoveonherandsheshutsitdownandrunsofflikeshedidaftermycameoasSirStrips-a-lottheothernight,I’llofficiallymakemyselfgetoverher.
Butfirst,I’vegottogetagrip.HowamIsupposedtotouchherwiththesesweatypalms?I’llleavegreasystreaksbehindonthesexyblackdressshe’swearing.No,Nathan,don’tthinkaboutthedress.Don’tlookatthedress.Don’tslideyourgazetothetightfabrichuggingherthighs—Ilooked.I’vebeenlookingallnightandit’sdoingnothingtohelpmekeepmycool.I’msofarawayfromcoolI’manactivevolcano.
“Sowhatsortofpartyisthisgoingtobe?”Breeasks,atouchofnervousnesstinginghervoice.AtleastIknowI’mnotalone,evenifournervesarefordifferentreasons.
“It’llbemorelikealow-keyget-together.Nothingbig.”Derekpromisedmeitwouldn’tbeoverthetop,nothingthatcouldstirupanytroublefortheguysontheteam.
Butapparentlyhiswordmeansnothing,becauseaswepullthroughthesecuritygatethatleadstohisproperty,Iseewhatlookslikehundredsofcars.It’safreakingcarnival.HismansionislitupliketheFourthofJuly,coloredlightsshiningthroughthewindowsandthepulseofmusichittingmeassoonasIstepoutofthetruck.
“Orrrrmaybeit’llbearager,”IsayaftercomingaroundthetrucktoopenthedoorforBreeandhelpherdown.
Breeisdressedtokilltonight.Anassassinontheruninherjetblackdress.It’stightandcutsoffmidwayupherthighs.Curlstwistandspilloveroneofhershoulders,andI’minaweofher.Thosewide,browneyesstareatthesceneaheadofus,andIfeelherhandslowlyslideintomine.Ourfingerslace.Ican’thelpbutsmilewhenIrealizeherpalmsarealittlesweatytoo.
Sheswallowsaudibly.“Staywithme,please.”
Igrin.“Always.”
Thecrowdisthickinhere.Thelightsarelowandthemusicisloud.Unlesssomeoneisrightinfrontofyou,it’shardtotellwhoanyoneis.Idon’tlikethat.
Breehasmyhandinadeathgripandkeepsshootingmelooksthatsay,Idon’tbelonghere!
Isqueezeherhand.Yesyoudo.
“Doyouwantadrink?”Ihavetoleandownandaskinherearsoshecanhear.Itfeelsmorelikeaclubinherethanahome.I’mgoingtokillDerek.
Shefranticallynodsyes,andherhairticklesmylips.ImaneuverusintothekitchenwherewefindDerekandJamalalongwiththelargestselectionofliquorI’veeverseen.Enoughtogetourwholedamnteamintrouble.
Jamalspotsmefirst—whiskyinhand,mid-pourintohisredcup.Hepromptlysetsitdownandtakesoneextra-largestepbackwardthenpointsanaccusingfingeratDerek.“Toldhimnotto.”
IswingmygazetoDerek,whoisshootingalookatJamal.“Ithoughtyousaiditwouldbelow-key.”
Derekflashesamischievousgrinandstretcheshisarmsoutsidetoside.“Itried,butthepeopleoverpoweredme.”
Jamallaughs.“Nope.He’slying.Isawtheguestlist,andhedefinitelyinvitedallthesepeopleonpurpose.”
Iscanthepartyandamabletomakeoutseveralofthesingleguysfromourteam.Alldrinking,allencircledbywomenIdon’trecognize.Sure,they’renotreallydoinganythingwrongyet,butthenightisstillyoung,andwehavepracticeinthemorning.Mybloodpressurehitstheceiling.Whyaretheyallactinglikethis?Doesnooneelsecare
“Wehavepracticeinthemorning,Derek.Ifyouoverserveeveryone—”
“Nathan.”Breeinterruptsmewithalighthandtomychest.MybrainregistersthistouchlikeatriggersensoronthegameOperation.Myskinbuzzeswhereherhandisresting,andI’mafraidmynoseisgoingtolightupred.Ilookdown,andhersoftsmileimmediatelywrapsaroundmyracingheartandsoothesit.“Let’sjustrelaxforalittlebit.Don’tworryabouttheguys.Theycanmaketheirownchoicesanddealwiththeirownconsequencesiftheygetintotrouble.Tonight,justletyourselfhavefun.”
Wait,isthatanoption?Forfouryears,I’vebeenthelevel-headedguy.Theonewhomakessureeveryoneisdoingexactlywhattheyshouldbe.I’lladmit,it’stiring.
Breepatsmychestlightly.“Let’sgrabadrinkandthenmaybeyoucouldshowmearound?”
Istaredownatherwonderinghowinthehellshejustdidthat.Icouldfeelthattightnessstartingtogripmychest,thatsmotheringsensationsettlingdownonmeagain.Anout-of-controlpanicwastiptoeinguptome,thenonetouchandafewsoftwordsfromherpulledmebacktomybody.Ifeelsafewithher.Mythoughtsfeelquieter.
JamalhandsherthedrinkhejustmadeandmouthsThankyoulikeshejustsavedhimfromafire-breathingdragon.Derekrunsawaylikeacoward.Yeah,youbetterrun,fool.IspotaguyoverBree’sshoulderlookingherupanddownandbackingupagaininawayIdon’tlikeonebit.Hiseyessaydisgustingthings,andit’snaturalinstinctformetobottleupmyrageandclenchmyfistatmyside,unabletodoanythingaboutitbecauseI’mjustBree’sfriend.ButthenIrealize—we’reinpublic!Forallintentsandpurposes,Breeismygirlfriendrightnow,andallbetsareoff.
Islipmyhandaroundherwaistandfeelthecreaseofherhipagainstmypalm.Imakeeyecontactwiththeguyandmakesureheknowsthispossessivetouchisamiddlefingertohisface.Nottonight,buddy.Eyesoff.HabithasmewaitingforBreetoshootaglareupatmefortouchingherlikethis.WhenIseehereyelasheslower,registeringthetouch,andthenshecoziesincloserinsteadofpullingaway,mypulsedoubles.
Shefinallylooksupatme,andthere’ssomethingthere.Somethingnew.Somethingsparkingandinviting,andI’mnotjustimaginingit,right?Idaretofindoutwhatitis.
“Thisisokay?”Iask.
Sheliftsacoyshoulderwithasmallgrin—flirtatious.ALSONEW!“Imean,sure.Butjustknowthatifyou’regoingtoactpossessiveinpublic,Iwilltoo.”Shegoesuponhertoestokissmyjaw.
Myheartstops.
Inthattinylittlekiss,therewasacountry-sizedamountofmeaning.Thewayhereyeslook,thewayherbodyfeelsagainstmine…italladdstotheimplication.Thatsmallkisswasacheckeredflag,andnotoncetonighthasBreemadeasinglemovetoremindmeofthefriendzone.Nobrother,amigo,BFF,orincestreferences.
No,rightnow,hereyeshavefireinthem,andthere’snowayI’mgoingtopretendit’snotthere.Iwon’tkeepmovingandignorethesignstonight.Itemnumber20isunderway.I’mgoingtoharnesstheflamesinhereyestoburnourplatonicfriendshiptotheground.
Isqueezeherhiptighterandsteerusoutofthekitchen.“Inthatcase,comewithme.”Nathan’shandpressesintomysideashetakesmewithhimoutofthekitchen,drinksforgotten,weavingusthroughacrowdeddancefloorinthelivingroom.Thecoucheshaveallbeenmovedtotheperimeterandsomanypeoplearepackedintothecenter,cupsinhandanddancingliketheybelonginanundergroundclub.Myfirstfeelingisrelief.Dancing!Yes!Thatsoundsgreat.Nathansaying“Inthatcase”hadmymindracingtootheroutcomes.OutcomesIdefinitelywantbutamalsoalittleterrifiedtoembrace.So,let’sdance!
Oh,we’repassingthedancefloornow.Awomanbacksintome,andhersequineddressscratchesovermybarearm.Nathantucksmeinclosertohissideandsteersustowardahallway.Adarkhallway.That’sfine.I’mgood.Everythingisgood.
“Umm,shouldwebegoingthisway?Lookssortof…dark.”Itrytopersuadehim,buthejustquietlygrinsandkeepsmovingustowardthatforbiddenhallway.Idon’tknowthatit’sforbidden,butnooneelseisinit,soitsurefeelsforbidden.
ThisiswhatIgetfortalkingabiggamewithLily!IthoughtIcouldlayitonthick,butnowIjustwanttoliedownandpassoutbecauseIcanfeelchangeintheair.IcanfeelittransmittingfromNathan’sfingertipsthroughthefabricofmydressandseepingintomyveins.
Westepintothehallway,andIknowwe’renotcomingbackoutthesamepeopleasbefore.It’salsoimportanttonotethatNathanistheonlymanintheworldIwouldtrusttotakemedownacreepy,darkpassagelikethis—andifthatdoesn’tsaysomethingabouthischaracterandthewayIfeelforhim,Idon’tknowwhatwill.
Witheverystep,Ifeelmoreexcited,thrilled,andterrified.
“Whatalovelyhallway.It’sso…dark…and…hallwayish.”
Wedon’tgototheendofitlikeIthinkwewill.Wedon’topenanyoftheclosedbedroomdoors.Westopinthemiddlewherethecoloredlightsfromthepartystillreach,andyetit’sprivateenoughtonotbewatched.IsuckinabreathwhenNathanabruptlyspinsmearoundsomyshoulderbladestouchthewall.Hesmilesdownatme,stillnotsayingaword,andthenreallyconfusesmebytakingastepaway.Twosteps.Three.Hisbackhitstheoppositewall,andwelookliketwokidswhogotintroubleatschoolforcallingeachothernames.DefinitelynotthedirectionIthoughtthiswasgoing…
MaybeImisreadhimtheothernight.Maybehedoesn’thavefeelingsforme.Maybe—
“I’mgivingyouamplewarning,”hesaysinadeeptonethatcrawlsupmyneckinthemostpleasantway.Likesomeonetrailingtheirfingeracrossyourskintomakeyourhairsstandup.Hiseyesglitterinthedarkness.“Iknowchangescaresyou,soI’mgoingtotellyouwhat’sabouttohappen,makesureyouapprovefirst.”
Didanyoneelsejusthearmegulp?
Itrytosayokay,butnothingcomesout.Mylipsareonlymovingforshow.
“I’mgoingtotakethreestepsbacktoyouandputmyhandsonyourhips.”Hiseyesroveoverme,andhesquintsjustbelowmychin.“Maybeyourjaw,maybethebackofyourneck.We’llsee.AndthenI’mgoingtokissyou.”
I.Can’t.Feel.My.Toes.
Whenmyvoicefindsitswayout,itsoundslikeacroak.“Why?”
Hisheadtiltsrakishly,andhesmilesbutdoesn’tanswerme.
ThisiswherehabittellsmetoENDIT.Thelittlehallmonitorthatenforcesmyself-preservationblowsawhistleandsays,Stopthisrightnow!Butthingsarechangingaroundhere,andIwantthemtochange,soIshoveherintoalocker.(ButthenIfeelbadaboutthatsoItakeherbackout,thankherforherservice,giveherachocolatebar,andtellhertotakeavacationtothebeach.Shedeservesitforallherhardwork.)
WouldIhavelikedforNathantoadmithisundyingloveformeandTHENkissme?Yes.ButI’mgoingtomakemyselfdosomethingnewandhopeforthebest.He’stakentheutmostcareofmeoverthepastsixyears,anddeepdown,IknowIcantrusthimnow.
“Stillwithme,BreeCheese?”heasks
Inod.
Justaspromised,Nathantakesone,two,threesteps,andnowhe’sinfrontofme.Ihavetotiltmychinbacksofartoseehimthatmyheadrestsagainstthewall.Onehandmovesforwardandrestsonmyhip.Itfeelslikeamatchstrikingabox.Ihavebeenforcingallofmyattractionforthismanawaysincehighschool,andnowthatIcanletitout…I’mgiggling.
Ohgosh,I’mgiggling!No!ThisisnotimetopullaRachelGreen!
Nathanfreezesandfrownsdownatmybubblinglaughter.I’mterrifiedI’mgoingtosabotageusagain,soIclaspahandovermymouth.Atfirst,helooksuncertainanddefeated,butthenhisfrownclearsandhesmiles.
“RachelGreen?”heasks,becauseofCOURSEhe’dknowwhat’shappeningtome.We’vewatchedthewholeF.R.I.E.N.D.S.seriestogethermultipletimes,soheknowswhenRossGellerfinallygetswithhislongtimefriendRachelGreen,shecan’thelpbutgiggleeverytimehetouchesher.AndIcan’tbelieveit’shappeningtomenow.Isthisanactualcondition?
“I’msorry,”Isayfrombehindmyhand.“I’mruiningthis.”
“Ruiningwhat?”heaskssavagely,tryingtogetmetoadmitthere’sathisbetweenustoruin.
Idon’ttakethebait.“Thefacade.Anyonewatchingrightnowwillbeabletoseethatthisistotallyforeignforus.Thejigwillbeup.”Totalcrap.Noonecanseeusrightnow,andnooneatthispartygivesaflyingmonkeywhatwe’redoing.
Nathanhumsadeepsoundandinchescloser,takingmyotherhipinhisfreehand.Hepushesmeflushagainstthewallanddropshisheadtomyneck.Hisbreathgrazesmyskinandhewhispers,“You’lljusthavetopretendit’snothingnew.”
Iholdmybreathashissoft,warmlipspressagainstthesideofmyneck.Tingleseruptacrossmyskin.
“PretendI’vekissedyouhereathousandtimesalready.”Hishandsleavemyhipstoskateupmysidesandlandoneithersideofmyjaw.Hetiltsmyheadandmovestotheothersideofmythroat.“PretendIhaveeveryinchofyoumappedoutlikethebackofmyhand.”Hishandslidesaroundmybackanddropslowtojustabovemyrearend.“PretendIknowyouhaveatwo-inchbirthmarkrighthere.”RealityiscollidingwithfantasybecauseIdohaveabirthmarkrightthere.I’monthebrinkofspiraling,rememberinghe’sseenmenaked,buthemovesonquickly.
Hislipslosecontactandhetakesahandfulofmycurlsinbetweenhisfingers,raisingthemtohisnosetobreathein.“PretendIwastheonewhowashedyourhairwiththiscoconutshampoobeforewecameheretonight.”
Ohmygosh.Ican’tbreatheorswalloworthinkormoveorliveanylonger.MysoulhasreachednirvanaandI’mnotcomingback.Nathanisoverwhelming.He’spowerfulandyetohsogentle.Howhasittakenmesolongtoexperiencethissideofhim?Andifhe’strulypretending,hisactingisnextlevel.
“Pretend,”hesaysinagravellytone,quietenoughforonlymetohearashedragshisthumbacrossmylowerlip.“Iamoffmyfaceforyou,andallyouwantrightnowisformetokissyou.”Helowershisheadsohislipsarehoveringjustafractionovermine.I’machingforhim.DyingforhismouthtolandonmineandBEDONEWITHIT.Iclosemyeyesandpartmylipsandfeelhisbarelybrushagainstmineashepointsout,“You’renotgigglinganymore.”
Idraginadeepbreaththenwhisper,“No.I’mnot.”
Finally,Nathan’slipspressintomine.It’sthesoftnessofaroseunfurling.It’svelvetbrushingoversilk.Dippingyourtoesinahotbathandlanguidlyinchingyourbodyintothewatersoyoudon’tgetburned.
I’vedreamedofthiskissforyears,butinmyimagination,Iwasneverabletoaccuratelyconjuretherich,tauttextureofhisskin,orthestrengthhe’stremblingtorestrainbehindhispowerfulhands.
AllofthespacebetweenusclosesasNathanpullsmeintighter.OurhipsmeetandI’minhisarmsfullynow,draggingadeepinhaleofhimintomylungs.Intomyveins.Intomysoul.Ican’tgetenoughofhim.
Canthisreallybehappening?
Yes,hislipssayastheypressintomineoverandover.Searching.Exploring.Coaxing.Mypalmsslideupoverhischesttolockaroundhisneck.WhileI’mhere,Imightaswelltakesomeliberties.Igetmypawsinthebackofhishair,rightatthenapeofhisneckwhereitcurlsdeliciously.Hemakesaquietgroanofappreciationandeverythingspeedsup.It’sakickdrumnowwitharisingtempo.Hepartsmylips.Itastehimandhetastesme.
It’snosurprisetomethatNathaniscompletelycontrolledinhismovements.He’spreciseandmeticulousonthefield,andthattranslatesheretoo.He’sdisciplined.ButIsensethere’sanothersidetohim,onewhereheletsgoandsurrenders.Icravethatrecklessnessinhim,soIlightlybitehislowerlipandtug.AgentlereminderthatI’mnotasfragileashethinks.
Herespondsimmediately,handswrappingfullyaroundmyribs.Myfeetleavethefloor.Hehoistsmeupeasily,andIwrapmylegsaroundhiswaist,holdingonfordearlife.Him.Nathan.MysweetfriendishungrilydevouringmymouthlikeIameverythingheneedsinthisworldandhewilltakeitall.
Ipressmyfingersintohisshoulders,relishingthemusclesflexingbeneathmytouch.Hisbodyisdevastating.Glorious.Andit’sattachedtohissoulsoIadoreitevenmore.IclingtighterbecauseourkississointenseI’mdizzy.Yearninganddesirepulsethroughbothofusuntilitfeelslikeatangiblecurrent.Yearsofholdingbackcombust
“Bree…”Nathanbreaksthekisstowhisperreverentlyagainstmythroat.Hekissesit,bitesgently,soothesitwithanotherkiss.
ShiversracethroughmybodyandIburneverywherehetouchesme.Howisthisreality?Howarewehere?
Icatchhislipsagain,andmybloodhammersthroughmyveins.NowthatI’vetastedhiskiss,I’maddicted.I’llbechasingthissensationfortherestofmylife.
We’repluckedoutofthehallwayandtransportedintoanotherrealityamongthestars.Uphere,therearenosoundsotherthanourheartsbeatingandbreathscurlingbetweenusliketidalwaves.HeatandNathan’scallousedtoucharemyonlyguidesinthedark,andeverythingisright,andsafe,andasitshouldbe.Ourbodiesweremadeforeachother—thathastobetheanswertohowthiscanbesogood.
Suddenly,everythinggoesdarkandstartlinglysilent,quicklyfollowedbysquealsandcurses.Thepowerisout.
Nathan’slipspeeloffofmine,anditphysicallyhurtstohavetosaygoodbyetothem.IthinkIwhimper,andhechucklespleasantlyandkissesmycheek.
“Whatdoyouthinkhappened?”Iaskhim,clutchingthefrontofhisshirtincaseitwasaserialkillerwhocutthelightsandthemusicandisabouttohavehiswaywithus.
Nathanletsoutagrumpysighandslowlylowersmetotheground.Throughhisteeth,hesays,“Seemslikethehouseblewafuse.”
Whatterribletiming.Itfeelslikesomeonetossedusintofreezingcoldwater.Ourmagicalmomentisover.
Inthenextmoment,wehearJamal’svoiceboomthroughthehouse.Somethingaboutitsoundsoddlymonotone,robotic,andalmost…rehearsed.“Ohno.Lookslikeweblewafuse!Iguesswe’llhavetolightsomecandles.Nathan,youaroundhere?Needacandle,buddy?”
Nathanmutterssomethingunderhisbreath,anditsoundsoddlylike,“Thunder-seekingjackass.”
He’sstillholdingme.Hisfingersarestillclampedontomeliketheprongsofabeartrap.There’sadesperationinhisholdthatmatchestheoneinmyheart.Iwanttoaskhimamillionandtwoquestions.Iwanttobombardhimwithdeclarations.Butmymouthwon’topenandrealitysinksbackinaroundus.
Mysoulisshaking.
IknowawholenewsideofNathannow,andIdon’teverwanttogobacktowhatwewere.“Wakeup,sleepingbeauty!”
IcrackopenmyeyestoBreehoveringoverthesideofmybed.Hercurlsaretiedupinahighponytailanddrapingoverthesideofherface.Theapplesofhercheeksaresplotchedwithpink,andIwonderifI’mstilldreaming.Ihavetobe.WhywouldBreebeinmyroomrightnow?Thesunisn’tout.She’safigmentofmyimagination.
Istareather.What’sDreamBreegoingtodo?
Shesmiles,andImirrorher.Ifsheraisesherhand,I’llraiseminetoo.Hersoftbrowscrinkletogether,andsodomybushierones.Thismakesherlaugh.“You’rebeingweird.Comeon,getup!It’sTuesday.”
Ireallyhopethisdreamendswithusnotgoingonarun.Iglanceattheclockonmybedsidetableanditsays5:00AM.NowIknowI’mstillasleep.Breeisalwaystryingtogetmetosleepin,soshewouldn’twakemeupbefore5:30.
It’sbestifIjustsettleinandseewhathappens.Iputmyarmsbehindmyheadandwatchherasshecrossesmyroomtopawthroughmychestofdrawers.SheselectsablackNiket-shirtandgreyathleticshorts.Aballed-uppairofsockshitsmeintheface.Idon’tflinch.Breemovestostandatthefootofmybed,hereyesroamingoverme.Allthat’sshowingismychestandabdomen,butDreamBreelikeswhatshesees.Thepinksplotchesturntoredapples.Variety:Delicious.She’swearingmyfavoritepairofshortturquoiserunningshortsandablacktanktop,neonyellowsportsbraunderneath.Sheputsherhandsonherfantasticcurvyhips.
Ilovedreaming.Becauseinhere,therearenoboundaries.Nofriendzones.JustmeandBreeasweshouldbe.
“Youlooklikesomeoneshouldbefanningyouandfeedingyougrapes.Whatareyouwaitingfor?”sheaskscuriously.
“Comearoundhereandfindout.”I’msexyinmydreams.
Thosebrowneyeswiden,butshecomplies.Hersneakerssqueakalittlewitheverystep.Thenshe’sstandingbesideme,andIreachoutandtakeherhand.Warmskin.
Ohno.
THAT’SREALSKIN,PEOPLE!
ThisisnotDreamBree.Thisisreal-life,actual-consequences-if-I-pull-her-under-the-covers-with-meBree.AndIneedtoquicklybacktrack.
Ilookupandseeherswallowhernerves.Ifeelherhandtremblinginmine.Wemighthavekissedtheothernight,butthisisdifferent.Thisisalone.Inmyroom.Ihavenoexcusesherefortalkingdirtyorholdingherhand—andwhatIhadplannedjustnowisdefinitelynotontheromancecheatsheet.
Itugherdownalittlesohershouldershunchtowardme,andthenIpretendtoflicksomethingoff.“Ithoughtyouhadaspideronyou.Itwasapieceoflint.”
“Andyouwerejustgoingtowaitalldayforittobiteme?”Sheslapsmybareshoulder.Crisisaverted.“Somefriendyouare.”
Okay,timetoswitchgears.Mybrainisinafog,butIforcemyselftoclearitout.Isitupstraighterandthrowthecoversoff,swingingmylegsovertheedgeofthebedsoIcanrubmyhandsovermyface.Mybreathisrank.Thatshouldhavebeencluenumberonethatthisisreallife.
“Whatareyoudoingherethisearly?”Iaskher,diggingtheheelsofmypalmsintomyeyes.Istandupandstretch
“Icouldn’tsleep.SoIthoughtwecouldgoonarunearly…”Allofherwordsendinapileup.
Turningtoher,Iseeherunblinkinggazelockedonmybody.Right.Isleepinboxerbriefs.KindaforgotaboutthatwhenIstoodup.Breelookslikeshe’sinsomesortofpain.Hermouthisstillopen,unfinishedwordsdanglingoffhertongue.
Isteptowardher,tryingnottosmile.“Bree?”
She’sthatfamouspaintingnow.Shedoesn’tmove,buthereyesfollowmearoundtheroom.“Ishouldn’tbeseeingyoulikethis.”
“Probablynot.”Idon’tnormallyfeelembarrassedinmyunderwear.I’mprettyusedtomyownnudityatthispoint.I’vedoneadsforJockeyunderwear,andalso,youknow,thatwholeformissuethingwhereIwascompletelynaked.ButthisisBree,thewomanofmydreams,staringmedowninanintimatewayIdon’tthinkanyoneelseeverhasbefore.It’slikeshe’smatchingpuzzlepiecestogethertofinallyseethewholepicture.NathanlovesstrawberryTwizzlers+ah,that’swherehistanlineslive.It’sunnerving.
“You’re…”Herwordsendthere.She’syettolookatmyface.
BeforeIcanstopit,embarrassmentslidesoverme.Ifeelmyfaceheating.“CanIhavemyclothes?”Iextendmyhandtowardthebundleshe’sclutching,butsheholdsitupandawayfromme.
“Notyet.”
IsputteralaughbecauseIdon’tknowwhatelsetodo.She’soglingme.Veryopenly.Thisisnew—andI’mnotsurehowtoproceed.Thisisnotonthelist.“DoyouthinkI’llgetthemanytimesoon?”
“Isuspectso,butthejuryisstillout.”Shesoundslikesomeonehitherwithatranquilizingdart.
“Okay,enough.”Istepforwardtotakemyclothes,butsheholdsthembehindherback.She’snotgoingtoletmehavethem.“Whatareyoudoing?”Iask,soundingjustasamusedandconfusedasIam.
“Idon’tknow.”Hereyesarebright.Excited.Fearful.
Ourkisstheothernightishummingintenselybetweenus.
“CanI…”Herwordshesitateagain,andshesoundslikeshe’stryingtokeepalltheairinherlungs.“Ijustwantto…”
IsuckinanoisybreathwhenBreestepscloser,raisesherhand,andpressesitontomypectoralmuscle.Thepalmofherwarmhandisdirectlyovermyheart,andIknowshecanfeelitknockingagainstherskin.IraiseabrowandtelleverythinginmybodyNOTTOREACT.Sheswallows,staringattheplaceherhandistouchingme,andthensheabruptlybreakscontact,foistsmyclothesintomyarms,anddashesthroughtheroomtowardthedoor.
“GREAT.MEETYOUDOWNSTAIRS.”Mybedroomdoorgetsslammedshut.
Thefrontdoorslamsnext.
Iblinkandlookdownatmycrumpledrunningclothes.“What.The.Hell.Was.That?”I’mpacingthesidewalkoutsideNathan’sapartment.UpanddownIgo,backandforth.I’mcontemplatingjusttakingoffrunningandnevercomingback,because…Ijusttouchedhim.Nathan.Nathan’sbarebody.Ireachedmygreedylittlehandrightoutandfeltthemanup.WhatwasIthinking?!(Iwasthinkinghewasripped,that’swhat!)Itwassoforwardofme!ImightaswellhavetakenspraypainttohiswallandwroteILOVEYOUNATHANwithabigheartaroundit!
ThesunispeekingoverthehorizonjustasNathanexitshisapartmentbuilding.Iwhipmyheadawayfromhim.Ican’tmeethiseyesyet.IknowIshouldbematureandapologizeforwhatIdidbackthere,butIpreferbeingchildishandpretendingitneverhappenedinstead.
“Ready?”Iask,bobbingmygazeanywhereandeverywherebesidesinthedirectionofhisface.“Let’sgo!”
Itakeoffatabriskjogandhehasnochoicebuttocatchup.Intwosecondsflathe’sbesideme.Hisgazeisheavyonthesideofmyface,Icanfeelit,andIwanttoscreamIDON’TKNOW,OKAY?!Idon’tknowwhatIwasdoingbackthere!I’minlovewithmybestfriend,andI’vebeenhidingitfromhimfortenzillionyears,andnowallofasuddenI’mdecidingtonothideitandseewhathappens,butI’mtooscaredtoownit,andwhatifhedoesn’tlovemeback!*insertgiantinhalehere*
See?I’mlosingit!I’velosttoomanyfriesfrommyHappyMeal!
“Hey,mightwanttoslowdown,”saysNathan,takingmyforearmtotugmelightly.“We’llburnoutifwestartinasprint.”Buthistouchfeelslikepositiveandnegativeconnectorstomydeadbattery—itjoltsmetolifeandnowIwanttotakeofflikeSpeedyGonzales.“Seriously,Bree.Slowup.Wehaven’tevenhadourcoffeeyet.Whyarewerunningbeforecoffeeanddonuts,anyway?”
Goodquestion.Answer:becauseI’meverythingallwrongandbackwardtoday.IwokeupthismorninglikeitwasChristmas.TUESDAY!It’sbeentwowholesleepssinceourkissinthehallway,whichwasalsothelasttimeIsawNathan.I’vebeenbusywithdanceandhe’sbeenbusywithpracticeandaphotoshootafterpracticeyesterday,sobasically,I’vebeendying.(Nottobedramatic.)Butwhenmyeyespoppedopenthismorning(at4:30AM),Icouldn’twaitanylonger—Ihadtoseehim.IhadtoseeifalltheheatandzingsIexperiencedduringthatkisswerestillthereorifhewasfakingitforthedatingfacade.Ihighlydoubtitthough.He’saterribleliar—alsosofuntoplaypokerwith—soI’mthinkinghe’sintome.
Now,before,thiswouldhavesentmescreaminginafrenzyandoveranalyzingeverymovehemakes.NotthenewBree.ThenewBreeisn’tworriedthatNathanisonlyintomeasapassingfancy.ThenewBreeisn’teventhinkingaboutthat(yes,Iam).ThenewBreeisgoingwiththeflow!Seeingwherethissexylittleflingtakesme.LAYINGITONTHICK!
IforcemyselftoslowdownsoIcantosshimanormalsmile.Hefrowns,soitprobablywasn’tsonormal.“Justwasn’tinthemoodfordonuts.”
“You’reunwell,”hestatesflatly,soshocked.Icouldn’thavetoldaworsefib.“Comeon,let’stakeiteasytodayandgodowntothebeach.”Heveersleft,andIhavenochoicebuttofollow.
Wejogtogetherdownaboardwalkandkickoffourrunningshoeswhenwereachthesand.It’ssoearlyinthemorningthattheairisstillchilly,andthebeachisrelativelyempty.Nooneisheretowatchusortakephotos—whichmakesitallthemorestartlingwhenNathanintertwinesourfingersandpullsmewithhimdowntowardthewater.Webothstandsothatthetidecanwashoverourfeetandankles.Theicywaterpricklesmyskin,butit’snothingcomparedtothesensationofholdingNathan’sstronghand.
Heaudiblysighs,makingmelookupathim.Hiswavybrownhairfluttersaroundhisbrow,andthesaltyairmakesthestrandsathisnapeflipupwithanextraounceofrebellion.Thewindcatcheshist-shirt,pushingandpullingitaroundhisabdomen,onceagaindrawingmyattentiontohisperfectlysculptedform.Asoftsmilecurlsthesideofhismouthashestaresoutoverthewaterwherethesunisjuststartingitsday
“Imisstheocean,”hesaysquietly,andthenhelooksdownatme.“Wedon’tcomedownhereenough.”Hisdarkfeaturesareadirectcontrasttothesoftblueskybehindhim,andyettheysomehowcomplementeachotherperfectly.
“Lifeisbusy.”
Well,truthfully,hislifeisbusy.Mineistoo,butit’sadifferentsort.Ihavebuilt-inbreaksanddayswhereIkickbackandwatchTVfornogoodreasoninthemiddleoftheafternoon.Idon’tworkmyselftothebonelikehedoes.
Iblinkbacktowardthewater.“Confession…Iwasdownhereyesterdaymorning.”
“Youwere?”
Ishrug.
“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”Hisvoicesoundssad.
Ipointupathisface.“That’swhy!YouturnintoasadpuppywhenyoufindoutI’vedonefunthingswithoutyou.Idon’tliketorubitinwhenIknowit’snotsomethingyoucanswing.”
Hishandsqueezesmineandhepivotsslightlytolookdownatme.“That’sverysweetonyourpart—andsuperpatheticonmine.”
Ichuckle.“Youdon’tliketobeleftout.Nothingwrongwiththat.”Istareupintohiseyes,feelingthespacebetweenuscloseafraction.Thesamemagnetsthatpulledustogetherinthathallwayareworkingnow.Histhumbglidesupanddownmyhand.Iachetotellhimhowperfectthisfeelsbetweenus.
“You’renotannoyedbymyfaults?”heasks,soundingperfectlyserious.
“Idon’tseeitasafault.It’sjustyou.Sortofhowyounevertellmetosortthepilesofrandomcrapinmyapartment.”
Hegrinssoftly.“WhoamItomessupyoursystem?”
“See,that’swhyweworksowelltogether.Bestf—”Icutmyselfoffandclampmymouthshut.Nomoreconstantremindersofourfriendship.Iwantmore.AndI’mprettysurethefirststepisnotclaiminganoldlabel.
Hehumsinsuspiciousamusementatmycutoffsentence.Thenhiseyescrinkleinthecorners.“Well,you’reright.Idon’tlikemissingoutonfunwithyou.Solet’sgoswimmingnow.”
Ishriekatthatthought.“Noway!It’sgoingtobesocold,and—AH!”
Nathanscoopsmeupinhisarmsandrunsfullsteamaheadintothewater.Iscreamandkickandthinkhe’llstopatthelastmomentandtellmehe’sonlykiddingthentakemebackuptothebeach.Nope.Hedunksusbothunderthefrigidwater.Thetemperaturecan’tbemorethan60degrees,andI’mgoingtomurderhim!Butwhenweresurfaceandheflashesmehissunshinesmile,Ilosemyrage.Heishappinessembodied.Heisalsosexinessembodied.Hisdark,wetshirtmoldstohim,andwaterdropletsslidefromhishairdownthatsquarejaw.
IbetIjustlooklikeawetcat.
Nathaneyesmeandmyshiveringbody,andmysuspicionsareconfirmedabouthowIlookwhenhechuckles.“Areyoucold?”
Iglareathim.“No,I’mincrediblyw-w-w-warm,youjerk!”
“Awww,I’msorry.Comehere.”Hestretchesouthislongcordedarmandpullsmeupclosetohim,wrappingbotharmsaroundmeasweareswayedbythewater.I’mpressedagainstthehardplanesofhisbody,andnowIdon’tfeelsocoldanymore.It’samiracle!
Iswallow,wonderingforthehundredthtimeinthespanofafewdayswhatthisis,whatitmeans…
“Hey,”Nathansays,breakingthroughmythoughtsandpushingmystickywethairsbackfrommyface.“Areyouhappy,Bree?”Hiseyestracethelineofmymouth.Idon’tknowwhatthismomentisexactly,butitfeelsimportant.Myhearttrembles.
“Very.Areyou?”Mygazedartstohismouthandbackup.
“Rightnow?Yes.I’malwayshappywhenI’mwithyou.”
Mylipspartonaninhale.We’regoingtokissagain.Icanseeitinhiseyes,canfeelitinhisfingertipspressingmeclosertohim.Thewavessplashagainstoursides,andIwrapmyarmsaroundhisneck,risingupontiptoetoreachhim.OurlipsarejustabouttomeetwhenNathan’sheadturnsabruptlytotheside.
Foroneterriblesecond,Ithinkhejustrejectedme.I’mreadytoslipawayfromhimandswimintotheocean,nevertoreturnagain,whenhepivotsbothofourbodiessohisbackistotheshore.Hiseyesarestormynowwhentheylookdownatme.
“Paparazzifoundus.Aguywithalonglensishuncheddownbytheboardwalksnappingphotos.”
“Oh!”Isayinarelievedrush,happytoknowIdon’thavetobecomequeenofthecrustaceans.“That’s…bad?Ithoughtwewantedpaparazzitoseeusbeingcoupley?”
Nathanshiftsmebehindhim,duckinghisheadandshieldingmeasmuchashecanaswemakeourwayoutofthewater.WhichI’mbeyondgratefulforsincemyclothesarepracticallypaintedonmybodyrightnowandthat’sreallynottheimageIwantmydadtoseewhenhe’sshoppingformilkatthegrocerystoretomorrow.
WhenNathan’svoicereachesme,lowandquiet,IalmostthinkI’veheardhimwrong.“Yeah,butthatwaswhenitwasjustfake.”
NathanandIaresoakingwetandjoggingbacktotheapartment.Thepaparazziwasrelentless,followingbehindusallthewaydowntheboardwalk,snappingawayevenwhenNathanaskedhimtostop.Nathan’sjawwasflexinginawaythatmademeworriedforhisteeth,andhekepthisarmtuckedprotectivelyaroundmeuntilwewerebacktothemainsidewalkandcouldheadbacktohisplace.
Thistime,heseemsdeterminedtorunatthebreakneckspeedIwasencouragingearliertogetusbacktoprivacy.Onlyproblem,I’mnowwearingsloshingclothesthatI’msurearegoingtoleaveaterriblechafeonmyinnerthighs.IfeellikeI’mrunninginweights.Sure,Thoroverthererunsinweightedvestsallthetime.Notthisgal,though,soIamhorriblyunpreparedforthislevelofphysicalendurance.Italsodoesn’thelpthatmymindkeepswanderingbacktowhatNathansaidinthewater.Thatwaswhenitwasonlyfake.
Becauseit’snotnow?
ThenextthingIknow,I’mtrippingovermyownfeetandhittingthepavementhard.Instincthasmeprotectingmybadkneebylandingmostlyonmygoodone,myhands,andmyelbows.Everythingstings—butnothingasbadasmypride.
IcurlupinaballandwrapmyarmsaroundmysmartingkneeasNathancrumplesdownbesideme.“Bree!Areyouokay?”He’sfussingovereveryinchofme.“You’rebleeding.How’syourotherknee?”Heimmediatelyassessesitlikehe’sadoctorandknowswhathe’slookingfor.
“It’sokay.Ididn’tlandonit.”Tearsfillmyeyes,makingmefeellikeanidiot.Idon’twanttocryinpublicoverafewscrapes,butmybodyseemstohaveotherplans.“I’mfine,Nathan!Justlookawayforasecond!”
“Why?”Hisvoiceistender,whichonlyheightensmyemotionalstate.
Icovermyfacewithmyhands.“SoIcancrylikealittlebaby.”
Hedoesn’tlaugh,buthedoessmilesoftly.Hetakesmyfaceinhishandsandforcesmyleakingeyestomeethis.“Bree,youcanalwayscrywithme.”
Later,backattheapartment,I’mlyingonthecouchlikeCleopatra(ifsheweresweaty,bleeding,andtearful).Mykneewasreallybleedingandstungtoobadtowalk,soafterNathanwhippedoffhisshirtanduseditasmynewfavoritebandage,hepiggybackedmeallthewaytohisplacewhereIwaslaidlikeadelicateporcelaindollonthesofadespitemyprotestsofsoakedclothingandbloodylimbsruininghisfurniture.
“I’llbuyanewone.Don’tmove,”hesaidgruffly.Ididn’targueorpointoutthewastefulnessofhisstatementbecauseI’veseenthislookonNathanbefore,andit’stheonehegetswhenhe’sworrieddowntohisbones.Iwon’tteasehimwhenhe’slikethat.
Afewminuteslater,he’swalkingbackintothelivingroomcarryingafirstaidkitandanicepack.He’sputonacleanwhitet-shirt,andIcouldswearIhearachoirofwomenaroundtheworldcollectivelygroaninginannoyance.Wealldespisethatopaquematerial.
Nathansitsdownbesidemeontheedgeofthecushionandtwistshishipstofaceme.Hetakesmylegandgentlypullsitintohislap.Itstingsashedoctorsupmythree-inchroadburn,butIbarelynoticebecauseI’mtoobusystaringathim.Occasionally,hisfingersglideoverthehealthyskinofmylegs,anditsparkseverywhereinmybody.Myelbowsgetfixedupnext,andnowIlookandfeellikeaclumsy,awkwardchild,wearingthreeuglybrownbandageswithfrizzycurlsswellingrapidlyaroundmyheadastheydry.I’msureIhavetearstains.She’slookedcuter,folks.
OnceI’mcompletelybandaged,Nathansitsbackandpositionstheicepackovermywoundedknee.He’sfrowningdownatit.
“Whatisit?”Iaskcautiously,afraidI’mbleedingoutorsomethingandIjustcan’tseeit.
Withmylegstillinhislap,hisindexfingertracesasoftlinearoundthebandage.Icanfeelthereverenceinhistouch.“Nothing.It’sjust…seeingyourkneebandagedbringsbackmemories.”
“Ofmyaccident?”
Henods,stillnotlookingatme.“I’veneverfeltmoreterrifiedorhelplessthanIdidthatweek.”Hiseyessnaptome.Heavy.Serious.Aching.
Werarelyevertalkaboutthattimeinlife—thoughI’mnotsurewhy.It’sjustsomethingweavoidforreasonsIdon’tthinkeitherofusreallyknow.
“Iwantedto…Idon’tknow.Whenyoutoldmeballetwasoverforyouandyoucriedoverthephone…”Hesoundsanguished.“Bree,Iwouldhavesoldmysoultobeabletogetyourdreamsbackforyouinthatmoment.”
Ismileatthehardedgesofhisjaw.Thesternsetofhisbrowshangingoverhisblackeyes.Hisshouldersarerigidlikehecouldplowthroughamountainandknockitdown,butthepressureofhisfingerlazilymovingovermyskinisafeather.Atenderkiss.
Itmakesmewanttoreciprocate.Tobejustasvulnerableashistouch.
Ilightlyflickthelockofhairatthenapeofhisneck.“I’mgladyoudidn’t.Because…Ilikeyoursoul.”
Hisfingerstillsandhelooksupatme.Oureyescollidefortwotwisting,drawn-outbreaths.Iamscorching.Myskinpricklesfrommyheadtothetipsofmytoes.Doesheknowhowmuchhisnearnessaffectsme?DoesheknowI’mdyingtodivethroughthosebeautifuleyesandseeallhishiddenthoughts?Ineedtoknowifthere’sachancehewilleverlovemelikeIlovehim.
Arewefriends?
Orarewemore?
Myheartpoundsmoreandmoreaggressivelythelongerwesitstaringatoneanother.Hedoesn’tsayanything.WHY?!Whywon’thespeak?Doyoulikemysoultoo?I’dsettleforacomplimentonmyshirt.Acasual,That’snice,yourshortsarecute.Anything!Justsaysomethingplease!
Butthelongerhetakes,themoreIwonderifhe’stryingtoformulatetheperfectresponsetoletmedowneasy.Yoursoulisokay,Iguess.I’veseenbetter.
Idon’tgivehimachancetoanswer—Ipanic.“Instagram!”
Hefrowns.“Huh?”
Iscrambleoutofhislap,feelingmycutsallstingangrilywhenIbendmykneesandretrievemyphoneoffthecoffeetable.“Wehaven’tpostedacutesyphotoinawhile,andthatwaspartofthecontractagreement,right?Theywantedustopostcouplestuffwiththeircuratedhashtags?”
“Yeah…”
“Let’sgettoposting,then!Wecouldstageaphotoofusplayingcheckersorsomething?Doyouownacheckerboard?Orcards?Wecouldplaycards…I’llletyouwin.Whyareyousmilinglikethat?”
Hechucklesalmostunderhisbreath.“Whyareyoublabbering?”
Istarerightathimandblurtmytruthinonelongwordvomit.“BecauseItoldyouIlikeyoursoulandyoudidn’trespond.”
Halfofhismouthtiltsintoasmile.“Iwasgoingto,butyoudidn’tgivemeachance.”
“Youweretakingtoolong.IfwewereonJeopardy,thebuzzerwouldhavesoundedwaybeforeIinterjected.”
“Ididn’trealizetherewasatimelimit.”
“Thereis.There’salwaysatimelimit.AndnowIknowyouhatemysoul.”
Hetakesmyphonefrommyhand,fiddleswithit,andsetsitcarefullybackontothecoffeetable.“Somepeopleneedmoretimetogettheiranswerright.It’snotfairtogiveatimelimit.”
“Sorry,butthat’slife,buddy.Youcan’twaitforever.”Irealizenowthathe’sangledthephoneonthecoffeetable,settingitupsothatit’sfacingus.
Helooksatmeagain.“Idisagree.Ithinksomethingsareworthwaitingfor,nomatterhowlongittakes.”
Nathanleansoverandpunchesthebuttononthesideofmyphone,andalightstartsflashingfortheten-secondtimer.BeforeIhaveamomenttograspwhat’shappening,heputsahandonmyshoulderandgentlypushesmeoversothatmybackfallsflushwiththecouchcushion.Thisisnew.Nathanhoversoverme,pinningmeinasthesubtlecountdownflashescontinuetosparkbesideus.
“Bree,Iwanttokissyou.Isthatokay?”
AllIcandoisnod.
Hebendsdown,slowly,anddropsonesoftlingeringkisstomymouth.Fireexplodesinmybelly.Wearenotinpublic.Andthecameraisstillcountingdown.Thiskissisn’tforanyonebutmeandhim.Thatwaswhenitwasjustfake.Hislipsarewarm,soft,vulnerablecaresses.Theyendfartoosoon.
“Yoursoulismyfavoriteinthisentireworld,”herepliesquietly,justasthecamerasendsthefinalbrightflashsignalingthephoto.
I’mshocked.SoscaredI’mdreamingIcouldcry.Itwasn’texactlyadeclaration,butitfeltlikeit.Myheartbeats:Hope.Hope.Hope.
Itakehisjawinmyhand.“Holdstill.”
“Why?”Nathansaysonachuckle,becauseifIcanbecountedonforanything,it’smakingamomentweird.
“Becauseyoudon’thaveagoodpokerface,andIwanttoseeifIcanfindtheanswertosomething.”
Hissmilefadesintosomethingmoreserious,andasItilthisfaceslightlytotheside,hecomplieseasily.Hisjawisscratchybeneathmyfingers.Itilthisheadtheoppositeway,sizinghimupfromallangles.Heindulgesmelikehehaseverydayofourfriendship.Nosquirmingoravertinghiseyes.Heletsmeswimthroughthosedeep,darkirises,andjustwhenI’malmosttotheglowinganswerattheendofthetunnel,hisphoneblaresanalarm.
Heexpelsabreathanddropshisheadintomyneck,andI’mabletoregisterhisfullgloriousweightpressingdownonmebeforehepushesoffthecouchtogethisphone.Thealarmissilenced.Helooksathisphonelikehe’denjoycrushingitinhispalmandtossingthedebrisoutthewindow.“That’smyalarmtellingmeit’stimetogotowork.”
“Okay,”Isay,mybreathyvoicebarelypunctuatingtheair.Butseriously,howamIsupposedtorespondafteramomentliketheonewejustshared?We’reonthebrinkofeverythingchanging,butwe’renotabletojumpquiteyet.
HeandIstareateachotherforonelongmoment,andthenhegroansandshakeshishead.“I’msorry.Ihavetogo.Canwetalklater?About…everything?”
Ismile.“Yes.”Youknowwhat’sstrangeaboutbeinganormalpersonandnotlivinginsideaNetflixmovie?Aftersignificantmoments,youdon’tgetascenejump.Afteryourbestfriendwhomyou’vebeensecretlypiningafterforyearsandyearsmaybe-sort-of-did-he?admitstolikingyoutoo,youdon’tgettoflashforward.
Nope.Mylifegoeson,painfullyslowandfullofuncertainty.Igettoliveinthegreyforthreewholedays.You’dthinkwithhowoftenIweargrey,I’dlikelivinginit,butNO!Idon’t.IwanttotakeeverythinggreyIownandburnitinapileintheparkinglot.I’lldosomesortofritualdancearoundittocleansemyselfofitsholdonmylife.I’llliftsignsandchant,“WHATDOWEWANT?NOMOREGREY!”
Soanyway,Tuesdaywasrough.AfterNathanleftforpractice,Ihadtogoteachmynewtoddlerclasswithabanged-upkneeandelbowsthatfeltlikesomeonewasscrapingshardsofglassoverthemeverytimetheybent.Andguesswhat?Youbendalotinballet.It’spracticallyallwedo.Bendallovertheplace
ItaughttherestofmyclassesthatdayandthenwashopingI’dgettoseeNathanthatevening,buthehadaneventatthechildren’shospitalandIwasn’tabouttobethatgirlwhoaskedhimtoskipmakingtinychildren’sdreamscometrue,sowetextedalittle(textinginsidethegreyissuperawkward,incaseyouwerewondering),andthenIwenttobedearly.
Wednesday,myscrapeswerescabsandIcouldremovemybandages.WhyamItellingyouthispieceofunimportantinformation?Becauseitwastheonlyinterestingthingthathappenedthatday.Oh,andIfoundthematchtomyfavoritelegwarmersthatI’dbeenlookingforformonths.Theyweresomehowbehindajugofmilkinmyfridge.Woohooforburiedtreasure!
Nathan’spracticeranlongthatdayandthenhehadanothermeetingaboutanotherthingthatIcan’tkeepupwith.Lifeduringtheplayoffsisincrediblyhectic,anditseemslikesomehow,Nathan’sdaysareonlygettingMOREfull.I’mnotsurehowit’spossiblewhentheywerealreadystuffedtothebrimtobeginwith.I’mworriedabouthim.WhenIaskifhe’stiredorifhe’ssleptatall,hejustbrushesitoff.I’mfine.Don’tworryaboutme.Right,sure,I’lljustturnthatswitchoffthen.Easy-peasy.
Thismorning(Thursday),Ifinallydidabigthing!IsubmittedmyapplicationtoTheGoodFactory.It’sdoneandoutofmyhands,andthatthoughtisasthrillingasitisterrifying.Istillfindmyselftryingtotempermyexpectations,butforthemostpart,I’mforcingmyselftohope.Tothinkabouthowwonderfulitwillbeifmystudioisgrantedthespace.IevenwentbythefactoryandtoureditjustsoIcouldbeabletomoreaccuratelydreamofhowIwouldarrangeeverything—whichwallIwouldhavethemirrorinstalledon,whichonewouldgetthebarre.ItookpicturesforNathanofeverynookandcrannyintheplace,andhedreamedwithmethroughtext.Ithasfeltunbelievablyfreeing.
It’s9:30PMnow,andjustasI’mcrawlingintobedforthenight,IseeNathan’snamelightingupmyscreen.IlungeacrossmybedtograbitsohardIpullamuscleandaccidentallyflyovertheedgeandcrumpleonthefloor.
“HI!HEY!I’vemissedyou!”Isay,rubbingmysoreneckandcompletelyforgettingthatI’msupposedtobeplayingitcool.
Hislowchuckleracesacrossthelineandticklesthelittlereceptorsinmyears.“Hi,I’vemissedyoutoo,”hesays,notbotheringtoplayitcooleither.Chillbumpsfloodmyarms.IwishIweretherewithhimrightnowmorethananything.
Iclimbbackupintomybedandscootagainstmyheadboard,pressingmyphonebetweenmyearandshouldersoIcanpullmycomforterup.It’sworthnotingthatIhaveadisgustinglydreamysmileonmyfaceaswell.I’vecompletelysunkintola-lalandwhereeverythingisbeautifulandsadnessisonlyamythicalidea.“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”Hesighsheavily,andsomehowIknowhe’salsolyinginhisbed.Ihearhimtakeadeepbreathandimaginehishandrestingabovehishead.IfIwerethere,I’drunmyfingersacrosshisscalpuntilhiseyesshutandhegroanedwithdelight.
“I’msorryI’vebeensobusy.”Hedoesn’tsaythisinthewaymostpeopledo—whereit’ssortofflippantandreallyyouhear,I’mnotactuallysorryandIhaven’tthoughtaboutyouoncebeforenow.Hesaysitinapainedandgutturalway,andIknowhemeansit.He’sspreadthinnerthanbutterontoast,andmyworryforhimratchetsupagain.
“No,Nathan,it’sokay!Iunderstandwhattheplayoffsarelike.”
“ButIdon’twanttobetoobusyforyou.”
Myfragilelittlepaperairplaneheartgetslaunchedintothesky.“I’llstillbeherewhenplayoffsaredone.”
Ihearrustlingonhisendandimaginehe’sturningoverontohisside.“Iknowweneedtotalkabouttheotherdayonthecouch…Ihaven’tmeanttoleaveitthislong.I’vejustbarelyhadtimetoevenlookatmyphoneforthelastfewdays.Doyouwanttotalkaboutitnow?”
ImaginetheMichaelScottgifofhimyellingNOOO.That’swhatmybrainsays.InnowaydoIwanttopotentiallyhaveaDTRwithmybestfriendoverthephonewhenhe’shalfasleep.Or…ohgosh,evenworse,whatifhe’shadtimetothinkitoverandrealizeshenevershouldhavehintedatanything?Hedoesn’tlikemelikethat.Hedoesn’t.
“Bree?”Nathan’svoicecutsintomyterrifiedthoughts.
Letyourselfhope.
“Sorry,I’mhere.Butno,I’drathertalkaboutitinperson.”
“Good.That’showIfeeltoo.Soweagreetostickapininitfornow?”
“Thatsoundspainful.”
“Itwillbeforme.”
Mysmilestretchessowidethecornersofmymouthtouchmyearlobes.Ifevertherewasareasontoletmyselfhopeforsomething,thatstatementwasit.
“Whatareyoudoingtomorrownight?MaybeIcanslipoutofpracticealittleearlyandwehavedinner?”
“Yeah!Thatwillbe—”Igrimace,suddenlyrememberingtheplansIalreadyhave.“Ah,shoot.Ican’t.IforgotIhavemynephew’sbirthdaypartytomorrownight.He’sturningsix.IgothimanewharmonicajusttoreallydriveLilyovertheedge.”
“You’regoingtoafamilythingtomorrownight?”Hisvoiceisdoingthatthingwhereit’sfilledwithlongingmixedwithdisappointment.Notbecausehe’sdisappointedI’mgoing,butbecausehelovesmyfamilyandwantstogotoo.
“Yeah…Iknowyou’rebusythough.”
“Whattime?”
Idon’tknowwhyhecouldpossiblybeaskingmethis.“Itstartsatsix,Ithink.They’rehavingdinnerandanoutdoormovie.Myparentswillbecominginforittoo!”
I’mreallylookingforwardtoit.Ilovemyfamily,andsincemyparentsretired,Ihaven’tseenmuchofthem.They’reRVersnowandspendmostoftheyeartravelingaroundtheUS.Whenweallgettogether,thingsgetrowdyinthebestofways.MymomisalsosuperintoTikTokdancesandisalwaysbeggingmeandLilytodoonewithher.I’mnotsureI’lleverrecoverfromseeingherdancetoCardiBthough.Watchingmydaddancetoitwasevenworse.
Butit’sgood.Afterseeingthemworksohardformostoftheirlife,thedaytheywereabletoretirefeltlikeaburstofsunlighttoallofoursouls.Imissthem,andIcan’twaittohugtheirneckstomorrow.
“I’llbethere,”Nathansays,followedbythesoundofaclick.Musthaveturnedoffhislight.
Listen,there’snothingmoreIwantinthisworldthanforNathantocomewithmetoafamilyevent.Myparentsadorehimandit’salwaysfuntoseemymomtrytomotherhimlikeshedoestherestofuseventhoughhe’seightmilestallerthanher,butIheartheexhaustioninhisvoice.Infact,I’vehearditforthelastmonth.
“Nathan,ifyouhavethenightofftomorrow,youshouldtakethattimeathometorest.Watchthatdocumentaryyou’vebeenwantingtosee.Drinksomehotteainabubblebath!”
He’squietforasecond.
“Doyoutakebubblebaths?”heasks,histonechangingeversoslightly.
“IdowhenI’matmysister’shouse.Ionlyhaveawalk-inshowerhere.”
Hemakesathinkingsound.“Ihaveabathtubhere.Abigone.”
Iswallow.“Iknow…I’veseenit.”
“Youcanuseitanytimeyouwant.”
Ilaugh,feelingslightlynervousandzingyallofasudden.“Okkaayyy,butwe’renottalkingaboutme.We’retalkingaboutyouandhowyoushouldusetomorrownighttorest.Ithinkyou’dloveabubblebath!”IfChandlerBinglovesthem,anyonewill.
“Ithinktheonlywayyoucouldgetmeinabubblebathisif…”Hiswordstrailoff,andI’mlefttofillintheblanksallbymyself.Myheartthumpsagain:Hope.Hope.Hope.“Nevermind.”Heclearshisthroat.“I’mgoodthough.Ihaveplentyofenergy,”hesays,soundinglikeadehydratedmanhavingtobecarriedacrossthefinishlineofatriathlon.“Letmecomewithyou.Please.”
Icanneversaynotohispleases.Theyaremadeoftinylittlestringsthatwraparoundmyheartandsqueeze.
“Fiiiine,youcancomewithme.Butfairwarning,there’sgoingtobealotofchaos.Screaming,dancing,cakeflyingeverywhere,andthat’salljustcomingfromme.”
Hechuckles,andanimageofhisdimplespopsintomymind.IrememberthewayhelookedlyinginhisbedbeforeIwokehimuptheothermorning.Inmymind,IgotohimthereinhisroomlikeIhaveahundredtimesbefore,exceptnow,Ihaveaperfectimagetoaccompanyme.Itiptoeinquietlyandgentlyliftthecoversback.Islideinandit’slikeasaunaintherebecauseNathanalwaysrunsatathousanddegrees.Hefeelsmemovebesidehimandhumsasleepysoundbeforewrappinghisbigarmaroundmeandpullingmeintight.Hisbreathticklesmyhairandhisskinishotallaroundme.
“I’vebeenwarned,”Nathansays,puncturingmyfantasy.
“Goodnight,Nathan.”
“Night,Bree.”
Nathanwassupposedtopickmeupafterpractice,andweweregoingtogotogethertothebirthdayparty.Unfortunately,hewasn’tabletoslipoutearlylikehehopedandtextedmethisafternoonsayingIshouldgoonaheadwithouthimandhewouldcatchupassoonashecould.Thethingis,Lily’shouseisnotjustdownthestreet.It’satwo-hourdrive,andmynephew’ssixthbirthdaypartyisacompletelyridiculousreasonforNathantodrivetwohoursoutofthewayafteralongdayofpractice.Itellhimthisovertextwithlotsandlotsofexclamationmarks,buthejustrespondsthesamewayhedidlastnight:I’llbethere.
ImakeittoLily’shouseabouthalfanhourbeforetheparty.Goodthingtoobecausemyentranceissoepicitwouldshoweveryoneelseupandmakethemfeelterriblefortheirmediocreexistenceinlife.IamTheFunAunt.Aka,Idon’thaveanykidsyetandthereforestillenjoyrunningwildaroundthehouse,screamingandflailingmyarmslikeamonsteronthehuntforlittleboyswhilemysisterhidesinthebathroomwiththeglassofwineI’vepouredher.
Ithrowopenthefrontdoorandholdmyhandsupintheair,showingoffmybling.“Holla!AuntBreeisinthehouse!”I’mdeckedoutwithRingPopsoneveryfinger.Threecandynecklacesadornmyneck,andasuperherocapeisdrapedovermyshoulders.GiftbagsfullofLegos,waterguns,andbubblegum(becausewhatkiddoesn’tlikebubblegum)arecuttingoffthecirculationofmyforearms.
IhearthestampedeofnephewsbeforeIseethem.Ibraceforimpactastheyrundownthestairs,screammypraises,andhugmylegs,andthenonebyone,I’mrobbedofmyloot.Theydon’tevenleavemewithasingleRingPop!Thelittlefootpadsrunoff,andallIseeisahazeofbirthdaybagsastheybrushpastmysister,whoisnowapproaching
Shelevelsmewithafrostyglare.“YoubroughtsugarintomyhousewhenIalreadyhadCAKEANDICECREAM?!”
“No.”Ishakemyheadaggressively.“Youmisunderstoodwhatyousaw.Thosewerebroccolipops.”
“Andthecandynecklaces?”
“Vitamins.”
Atthis,shecracksagorgeoussmileandopensherarms.“Getoverhereandhugmeyouterrible,terriblesister.”
Mid-hug,Ihearthedooropenbehindmeandmymom’svoicetrillthroughtheair.“Mybabiesarehugging!!HAROLD,GRABTHEBAGSYOURSELF!MYGIRLIESAREHUGGING!”
Mombarrelsintousnextandsqueezeswithallhermotherlymight.ShefussesoverLilyfirstandsmacksherrightbuttcheek.“Youhaven’tbeeneatingenough.Don’tworry,I’llfixitwhileI’mhere.”Shelooksoverhershoulderandcallstoourdad,whowe’veyettosee.“HAROLD,BRINGINTHECASSEROLE!”OfcourseMommadeacasserole.
Next,hersharpblueeyesturntome,andIwonderwhatlectureI’llreceive.Shegetsclose—closerthanclose,andnarrowshereyeslikeshe’slookingintoacrystalball.
“You’vebeenkissingNathan.”
Igasp.“Howdidyouknowthat?!”
Shewavesmeoff.“I’mamom,honey.I’vealwaysknowneverything,andIalwayswill.It’scalledmotherlyintuition.”
Lilycacklesandthenyells,“Bologna!It’scalledTwitter!Shesignedupforadummyaccountafewweeksagoanddidn’ttellus.Shesawyourredcarpetkiss.”Momlooksaffronted.“Yeah,thoughtIdidn’tnotice,didn’tya?WellIdid,Mrs.Brightstone!”
“Youdidn’t,”Isay,lookingatmyguiltymother.Mrs.Brightstonewasthenameshe’dalwaysusewhenweplayeddress-upgrowingup.Shewasaverywealthywoman—alwaysgoingtoballsinherminkcoats.(Don’tthrowpaint,theywerereallyonlyscratchywoolblankets.)
“Ididn’tthinkyou’dremember!AndIhadto!Iknewyou’dstartfilteringyourcontentifyouknewIwasfollowingyou.”
“What?Noway,Mom.You’recool,andwe’vealwaysknownit.”
Shesmilesandturnswithheroversizedpursewhippingagainstherhipasshesauntersintothekitchen,atwhichpointLilyandIbothshoweachotherourwideeyesandcrossedfingers.
Momyellsfromthekitchenlikesomesortofsupernaturalbeing,“Uncrossthosefingers,ladies,andgathertheboys!It’stimetoTikTok!”
Atthatmoment,Dademergesthroughthefrontdoor,loadeddownlikeapackmulewithenoughluggagetolastthemamonth,beadsofsweattrailingdownhisforehead,andacasseroletinclampedunderhisarm.“PleasetellmeNathanisheretoo.He’stheonlyonewhowillbeabletotalkyourmotheroutofthecostumesshebroughtforthedancevideoshewantstodo.”
Ihighlydoubtthat,butstill,Ithrowmydadsomehope.“Hesaidhe’llbehere.”I’malmosttoBree’ssister’shouseandI’mtwohourslate.Afterpractice,Iwasalreadysettobeanhourlate,butthenIsatonI-605intrafficforanotherhour.I’mexhausted.Frazzled.AndreallywantingtobumptheminivaninfrontofmetogetittogofastereventhoughIthinkthestickfamilywearingmouseearsonthebackwindshieldissupposedtodeterme.Itdoesn’t.
Probablyshouldhavehadmycarservicebringme,but…Idon’tknow.SometimeswhenI’mtiredandIthinkitwouldbegreattotakeanap,Ifeeltheneedtopushmyselfharder.PlusIhatetakingtheSUVtopersonalevents.ItfeelslikeI’mshowingupwithablinkingsignthatsays,LOOKATMEI’MSPECIAL!
Iletgoofthesteeringwheeltorubmychest.It’stight,andmyheartrateisstillhighfrompractice.Breewasprobablyright—Ishouldhavegonehometonight.Icouldn’tthough.Thingsfinallyseemtobehappeningforus,andIwanttodemonstratetoherthatIcanbethereforherandhaveacareerintheNFL.Idon’twanthertofeeloverlookedorputaside.Iknowshevaluesfamilyandeventslikethis,soIwanttoshowupforher.Maybeit’sjustbecauseI’mfeelingdeliriouslytired,butduringthatbriefkissonthecouchtheotherday(anddefinitelytheoneinthehallwaythatI’mstillthinkingabout),IcouldhaveswornshewanteditjustasmuchasIdid.Wantedme
Mywooingisworking,andIcan’tbelieveit.Allthisidioticstufftheguystoldmetodoisfreakingworking.BreeandIare…Ican’tevenletmyselfthinkaboutityet.UntilIhearthewords“Nathan,Idon’tseeyouasjustafriendanymore”comestraightfromhermouth,I’mnotgoingtobeabletoacceptit.
Finally,aroundeightPM,IpullintoLily’sdriveway.It’sdark,butthelightsinthehouseareilluminatingthewindows,andoccasionallyalittleshadowdartspast.Afteropeningmytruckdoor,Icanhearabsolutemayheminside.Ismiletomyselfbecausegrowingupasanonlychild,myhousewasalwaysquiet.Ilovethis.Iwantthis.
Myknocksonthefrontdoorgounanswered,soIletmyselfin.Chaoshitsmelikeatsunami.
Kids.Are.Everywhere.
Somanyoftheminalldifferentshapesandsizes.Theyarecacklingandscreaming,runningthroughthehallswithlittlenerfgunsandpeltingfoampelletsateachother.I’vemetLily’sboysafewtimesandBreehasbroughttheirentirefamilytoafewgames,sothenephewsknowmerightaway.Thebirthdayboy,Levi,seesmefirstandsprintstowardme.I’mbracedforimpact,buthestopsrightinfrontofmeandflashesmehistoothlesssmile.“Nathan!Lookatmynewnerfgun!”He’spumped,andIactasthoughI’veneverseenanythinggreaterinmyentirelife.
Ididn’tknowwhattogethim,soIpulledafewstringsandhadmostoftheguysontheteamsignafootballforhim.Whenhepullsitoutofthebag,it’sclearI’veepicallyfailed,buthetrieshisbesttolookimpressed.
“Oh.Afootball.Cool!Thanks.”It’sgarbage.Hehatesit.Isortofloveit,though,thatsomegrownmenwouldselltheirkidneyforthatball,andthiskidsavagelytossesitontothecouch.Oldnews.
Andthentheyyell,“Quarterbacksack!”
Iimmediatelyhavetenlittleleechesonme,andIcan’tshakethemoff.EventhoughI’mnotfeelingitrightnow,Idecidetojustrunthroughthenarrowmainhallwaylikeagrowlingbearallthewaybacktothekitchen,becauseIknowplayandfunarehowthisfamilydoesthings.
Inthekitchen,Ifindalltheadults.Toomanyadultsactually.It’ssuddenlyclearthisisnotjustafamilyparty,butamassivebirthdaygatheringwheretheparentswereallinvitedtostaytoo.Cool,cool,cool.It’ssomehowevenlouderinhere,everyonelaughingatahigherthannormalvolume.Chill,Nathan,it’saparty—ofcoursethey’regoingtolaughloudly.
Oneguysittingonabarstoolatthecounterspotsmefirst.Hedoesadoubletake.“Uh—isthat…NathanDonelson?”He’swearinganLASharksshirt,soIknowthiscan’tbegood.I’mreallynotintherightframeofmindtodealwithfanstonight.
IraisemyhandinasmallwaveandlookaroundtheroomforBree.She’sstandingbythesinkfillingapitcherwithwater.Atthementionofmyname,herheadoflonggorgeouscurlsswivelsinmydirection.She’swearingayellowcottondresswithalonglineofwoodenbuttonsdownthefront.Breelookslikealiteralrayofsunshine,andmanissheasightforsoreeyesafterthislong,gruelingweek.Iwanttorunmyhandsdownherbarearmsandsoakupallofherattention.Iwanttostealheroutofhereandkeepheralltomyself.
Ourgazesconnect,andforonegloriousmoment,everythingelsefallsaway.It’sjustmeandherhere.Hersmilesplitsacrossherface,andmyfavoritedimplespunctuatehercheeks.
AndthenI’mpunchedhardinthestomachbyarandomkid,andIdoubleoverwithacursenotsuitableforsaidkid’sears.There’smorechaosnow.
“Nathan!Ohmygosh,I’msosorry.Kids,OFF!”I’mnotevensurewhosaidthat.Parentsarefussingaroundme,peelingeachoftheirrelentlesssugar-fueledoffspringoffofme.It’saswarmofadultsandchildrenallinvadingmypersonalspaceinthisnarrowportionofthekitchenthatconnectstothemainhallway.Breeistryingtomakeherwaythroughthecrowd,butI’mtrapped,andshecan’tgettome.
Lily’sheadpopsintothemixoutofnowhereandactslikethissceneofpandemoniumiscompletelynormal.“Hi,Nathan!It’sgoodtoseeyou!”Shesqueezesundermyarmtoslideherwaythroughthepeopleandintothekitchen.
“Nathan’shere?!”That’sBree’smom.I’dknowhervoiceanywhere,butIcan’tseeherbecausethreedudesarepressingin,reachingovertheirwiveswhoarecorrallingthekids.Really?Youwantahandshakerightnow,man?Breeisoutsideofeveryonestilljusttryingtomakeherwaythrough.Someonehandsherababyandshe’stryingtohanditback.
Dougcomesupbehindmeandslapsmeontheback.“Goodtoseeyou,man!Hellofagamelastweek.”
I’msmiling—Ithink?—andtryingtoanswereveryone’scongratulationsandintroductionswhileakidispickpocketingmywallet.(DidIsayIwantabigfamily?Ichangedmymind.)
Everything.Is.Swirling.
I’mawareofmyjawtightening,teethclenchingpainfully.Ihaven’tevenmadeitfullyintothekitchenyet.I’mstillstuckinthisdamnhallway,surroundedbypeople.AnurgetowavemyarmsaroundfranticallyandyellGETBACK!nearlyovertakesme.Iwanttothrowmyelbowssidetosideuntiltheyallscatter.ButIcan’t—IknowIcan’t.IhavetostandherelikeIalwaysdoandtakeitallwithawinningsmile.
Ineedtofocusonthevoices,butthey’reallsloweddown,mixedtogether—muted.Ican’tfollowthem.Ican’tswallow.MyheartisracingandIfeellikeI’vebeenplungedinicywater.WhereisBree?Ican’tfindher.
Whydomylimbsfeelheavyandnumb?There’safallingsensation,andthefactthatIknowI’mnotreallyfallingonlymakesmyheartpoundfaster.Somethingiswrong.Ican’tbreathe.Mychest.Myfingers.Mybreath.What’shappeningtome?
Ihaveto…
Ican’t…
Ijust…Ohno.Somethingiswrong.
IwatchaseveryoneclamorsforNathan’sattentionandsuddenly,hisfacegoespale.Hiseyeslookdistantandglazed.Hisshouldersareroundinginonthemselvesandhetakesastepawayfromeveryone.It’ssonoisyinthistinyhallwaythatI’mbarelyabletohearhimsay,“I’msorry,I’vegotto…”
Heturnsawayfromeveryoneanddashesdownthehallway.Thereareabout12bodiesbetweenmeandNathanandIpushthroughthemwiththegustoofaBlackFridayshopperfightingforthelastdoorbusterTV.“Excuseme.Justletme—ugh,MOVE,Doug!”
Iemergefromthemobandstaredownanemptyentryway.He’snowheretobefound.Irunintothelivingroom,butIdon’tseehim.He’snotinthediningroom.Icheckoutside.Histruckisstillparked,buthe’snotouthere.I’mfranticnow,likeI’velostmychildinthemall.Nathanlookedterriblerightbeforehedisappeared,andI’vegottofindhim.
Idecidetolookupthestairsandpeekinalltherooms.Finally,Iseethedoortothelaundryroomcrackedwiththelightoff.Inside,Ifindmymountainousbestfriendcurledupinthecorner,shaking.Nathan—myunflappable-Nathan—hashiskneesuptohischest,bigarmswrappedaroundhislegs,headdroppedbetweenthem.Icanhearhisgasping
Irushoveranddropdownbesidehim,restingmyhandheavilyonhisback.“Nathan,hey,shhhit’sokay.I’mhere.”
“Ican’t—”Hetriestodraginabreathagain.Hisshouldersareheaving.Iputmyhandonhischestandfeelhisheartpoundingasifhejustoutranabear.“Ican’tbreathe.IfeellikeI’mgoingtopassout.”Allofthiscomesoutinafranticrush,likehe’sdesperate.“AmIdying?”heasks,completelygenuineandterrified,andnowIknowforsurewhat’shappening.
IscrunchincloserandstretchoutmylegsaroundhimsoIcanpullhisbackagainstmychest.Windingmyarmsaroundhim,Iholdhimtight.“No,you’renotdying,Ipromise.You’rehavingapanicattack.”He’sshakingfromheadtotoe,andmyhearttwistspainfully.Iknowwhathe’sfeelingrightnow.“Justlistentomyvoice,okay?I’mhere.You’resafe.Itfeelslikeyou’redying,butyou’renot.Now,allIwantyoutofocusonishowmyarmsfeelaroundyou.Aretheytightorloose?”
Heexpelsashakybreathand,afteralongpause,answers,“Tight.”
“Right.I’mnotlettinggo.Now,whatdoyousmell?”Iwaitforhisanswer,andwhenhedoesn’treply,Igentlyaskagain.“Nathan?Tellmewhatyousmell.”
“Umm…cake,”hefinallymurmurs,voiceraspy.
“Yeah,itsmellssogood.It’svanillawithsprinkles.Myfavorite.Doyouhaveanytastesinyourmouth?”
Icanfeelhisbreatheveningoutalittleandthetightnessinhisbodyloosening.IresituateoneofmyarmssoIcanrunmyhandtenderlyupanddownhisarm.
“Mint,”hesaysquietly.“Ihadguminmymouth,butIthinkIswallowedit.”Hesoundssodefeatedandembarrassedbythat.Iknowthefearandmortificationofhavingsomeoneexperiencemypanicattack,ofbeingseensooutofcontrolandfrantic.IwanthimtoknowIwillneverviewhimdifferentlyorseehimaslessjustbecauseI’veseenhimundone.
“That’sokay.I’vedonethatbefore.Imean,I’veonlyeverbeenabletotastewatermelon-minteversincethen,butit’snotsobad.”
IgetaminusculechucklefromhimsoIknowhemustbecomingbackdowntome.Ileanmyheadagainsthisshoulderbladeandkisshimthere.Hesinksbackagainstmealittlemore,hislimbslooseningslightly.
Wesitlikethisforafewminutes,andItalktohimuntilhisbreathingsoundsnormalagainandhisweightisheavyagainstme.Mypalmispressingagainsthischest,andwhenhishandcoversmine,Iknowhe’sfeelingmorelikehimself.Hesqueezes.
“Howdidyouknowwhatwashappeningtomeandwhattodo?”heasks,hisvoicehoarseandbroken.
“Becauseaftermyaccident,Iusedtogetthemallthetime.AnytimeIgotinacarforthefirstfewweeks,thepanicwouldsettlein.It’stheworstfeeling.Likeeverythingisclosinginandyoucan’tescapeit.Likeyouwouldbewillingtoclawoutofyourskinjusttogetaminuteofrelief.”
“Yeah,”hesaysweakly.“Exactly.”
Silencestretchesbetweenus.Shirtsarehangingaboveourheadsonthedryingrack,andthetilefloorbeneathmylegsiscold.Nathan’shandfallstomyshin,andhesqueezes.Asilentshowofgratitude.
“Areyoufeelingbetternow?”Ipeekoverhisshouldertoseehisface,butheturnsitaway.
“Yeah,”hesays,thoughhisvoiceshakes.
“Nathan?”Icranemyneckaroundhisshoulder,buthewon’tlookatme.
Hisshouldersbegintoshakeagain,butit’snotthefranticsortoftremorfrombefore.“Please,don’t…justdon’tlookatmerightnow.”Heraiseshishandtopresshisthumbandindexfingerintohiseyes.
“Whynot?”
There’sapausefollowedbyabrokeninhale.“Because…I’mgoingtocrylikeababy,”hesays,echoingmysentimentaftermyspillonthesidewalkafewdaysago.“Youcangobackoutthere.I’mokaynow.Justgo.”He’snottryingtobemean.He’sdesperatelytryingtopreservehisdignity.
Iholdontighter.“Youcanalwayscrywithme,Nathan.We’resafewitheachother.”
Thisbreakshimwideopen.
Hedropshisheadintohishandsandasobrackshisframe.Iholdontohim,pressingmypalmsintohischestsohecanfeelthatI’mhere,thatI’mnotgoinganywhere,thathecouldcryenoughtearstofilltheoceanandIwouldstillthinkhe’sthestrongestpersonIknow.
Suddenly,hetwists,wrapshisarmsaroundmywaist,andpullsmeontohislap.Mylegsareoneithersideofhis,butthere’sabsolutelynothingsensualaboutthismoment.Iamhisanchor.Hewrapshisarmstightlyaroundmeandburieshisheadinmyneck,cryinginawayI’msureheneverhasbefore.
Irunmyhandsthroughthebackofhishair.“Nathan,talktome.”
Ittakeshimamoment,butfinallyheanswers.“I’msotired.I’vehadthistightnessinmychestforweeks,andthisisthefirsttimeit’slessenedatall.Ifeelbroken.Iusedtobeabletohandleeverything,but…”
“Butnownotsomuch?”
Henodsagainstme.
“You’renotbroken.Havingapanicattackoranxietydoesnotreflectyourwholeness.You’reburnedout,andthat’scompletelyunderstandable.YoupushyourselfmorethananyoneI’veeverseenbefore,andit’sonlynaturalforyoutoreachthispoint.”
Heshakeshishead.“No…Ican’t.Ishouldbeabletohandleit.Ihavetobeabletohandleit.”
“Sayswho?”
Hedoesn’tanswerme.Ipullawayandframehisjawwithmyhandstomakehimlookatme.EveninthedarkIcanseehiseyesareredandpuffy,andhe’sdeeplyembarrassed.Hetriestoturnhisfaceaway,butIdon’tlethimbecauseIneedhimtoknowI’mnotashamedofthispartofhim.He’sprobablynevercriedinfrontofanyoneinhisentirelife,largelyduetotheculturehe’ssteepedindayinanddayoutthattellshimhismalenessisdefinedbyhisabilitytoremainimpenetrabletoemotions.
“Whydoyouhavetohandleitall,Nathan?Whywon’tyouletyourselfrest?”Iask,lookingdeepintohiseyes.
Hesqueezesthemshutandtearsrollout.“BecauseIdon’tdeserveto.”
“What?”Iaskonanexhale.
“Bree,I’veneverhadtoworkforanythinginmylife.Nothing!It’sallbeenhandedtome.Cateredtome.Iwantedtoworkinhighschool,butmyparentsactuallywouldn’tletme.Evenmycurrentpositionontheteamisbecauseitwashandedtome.Daren,themanwhorightfullyearnedhisspot,gotinjured,andItookoveraftersittingonthebenchfortwoyears.Doyousee?I’vebeengivenallofthissuccess—sowhatdoIhavetocomplainabout?WhatrightdoIhavetobeexhausted?None.I’mjustarichkidwhowasprovidedeverythingheeverneededandhandedmoremoneyandmoresuccessonasilverplatter.”
Ihadnoideahefeltthisway.
“Sothisisthereasonyouworkyourselftodeath?Whyyouneversaynotopeople?You’retryingtoproveyourworth?”
Hiseyesturndownagain.“WhenIworkhard,whenIfeeltired,it’stheonlytimeIfeelalittlebitoftheguiltinmychestlessen.”Iwanttospeaktothis,buthekeepsgoing,newtearsshakinghisvoice.“I’veneverhadtogothroughhardthingsinmylife.I’veneverknownanythingclosetopovertyorstruggleorevenjustbudgeting,forthatmatter.Ihaveachef,adriver,amanager,anagent—everythingIcouldeverneed,sotellme…whatreasondoIhavetocomplainaboutanyofit?”
Tearsarestreamingdownhisface,andthelookinhiseyesisangermixedwithdefeat.
“WhatrightdoIhavetoresentit?Towanttoescapeanypartofitever?No.Idon’tdeservetogethelpfortheanxietyIcan’tescape.Idon’tgettofeeloverworked.IneedtokeepmyshittogetherandgiveasmuchofmyselfasIcan,becauseotherwiseeveryonewillseethatIdon’tdeservetobewhereIam.”
Nathanletsgoofmetopresshisfaceintohishands.Foramoment,Isit,stunned.IstareatthismanIthoughtIknewbetterthananyoneintheworldandrealizeallalonghe’sbeenbottlinguphisfeelings,hishurts,hisanxietyandstressbecausehefeelslikehehastowearacapetobeahero.
Ifhecanbareallofthistomerightnow,Icandothesameforhim.
IpullhishandsdownfromhiseyessoIcanlookinthem.“Listentome.Itisnotthethingsyoudothatmakeyouworthy,it’sthatyouhaveabeatingheartinyourchest.Youhaveasoul,whichmeansyouareallowedtofeelhurt,tired,stressed,sad,angry.Allofthosethings—youareallowedtofeelthem.Everyoneis.”Igatherallofmystrengthformynextwords.“Yourabilitytoshouldereverything,togive200%ofyourselfallthetime,tobeperfectateverythingyouattempt…thesearenottheattributesthatmakeyouavaluablehumanbeing.”Ipause.“AndtheyarenotwhyIfellinlovewithyou.”
Hisblackeyesshootuptome.
Ismile.Theweightoftheseheavysecretsfallsoffofme,andIfeelrelievedtocontinue.“Ifellinlovewithyoubecauseyou’regoofy.You’refun.YourheartissobigIdon’tknowhowitfitsinhere,”Isay,pressingmyhandtohischest.“You’reaterriblesinger.YoumakemesoupwhenI’msick.YouboughtmetamponsthattimeIwaslaidoutonthecouchwithcrampsandcouldn’tmove.Youdidn’tevensendsomeoneelseforthem.Youwentyourself!”
Hechuckleslightly,andIwishthereweremorelightsoIcouldseehissmileclearer.
“Look,Nathan,Idon’tcareifyouneverpickupanotherfootballadayinyourlife,orifnooneintheworldattachesthewordsuccessfultoyournameeveragain.”NowI’mtheonedumpingtears,andNathan’shandshavemovedtocradlemyface.Histhumbsdashacrossmycheekbones.
Ishakemyheadlightlyandtrytoswallowdownmysobenoughtofinishspeaking.“Sodon’tsayyou’renotworthyordeserving,becauseyouaretome.Youalwayswillbe.”
Nathanpullsmecloserandcrushesmeagainsthischest.Hisstrongforearmsarepressingintomyshoulderblades,hisfaceburiedinmyhair.
“Iloveyoutoo,”hewhispersoverandoveragain.“Iloveyou,Bree.Iloveyou.Ialwayshave.”ItalkNathanintolettingmedrivehimhomeinhistruck,andhearrangesforsomeonefromhisentouragetogogetmycaranddriveitbackformetonight.Hello,celebrityperks.WeleavealmostimmediatelyeventhoughNathanisseverelyworriedthisisgoingtoupseteveryone.
“Letmetakecareofyou,”Isay,lookingupintohishesitanteyes.“Please?”
Herelentsandhandsmehiskeys.“Thankyou.”
Igetakissonthecheek,butIsortofwanttodothemovewhereyouturnyourfacereallyquickandgetakissonthemouthinstead.Notthetime.
Onthedrivehome,we’rebothphysicallyandemotionallyexhausted.Nathanturnsonsomemellowmusic,takesmyhand,andlacesourfingers.Hekissesmyknuckleswithanachingtendernessthattearsrightthroughme.Wedrivefortwohours,notsayingaword,justlisteningtothemusicincomfortablesilence
“Willyoustayatmyplacetonight?”heasks,finallybreakingthesilenceasIpullintotheparkinggarageofhisbuilding.
I’vestayedathisapartmentahundredtimes,sothatquestionshouldn’tfeelheavyorimportant.Butitis,becauseI’veneverbeenaskeditwhileheholdsmyhandandthewords“Iloveyou”hangbetweenus.Itfeelseasytosayyesthough.Natural.
Whenwefinallywalkintohisapartment,hetosseshiskeysontheentrytable.Itoeoffmyshoesandgointothekitchentogetusbothaglassofwater.It’sallsonormal,butalsolightlyscentedwithdifferent.Neitherofusspeak,becausewe’renotsurewhatwordswouldbeadequateenoughtofollowtheemotionalrollercoasterwejustrodetogether.Sowecarryourwatersdownthelonghallwaythatleadstoourrooms.IgetreadytopartfromhimandgointomineforthenightlikeIalwaysdo,buthecatchesmyhand,tuggingmebackaround.Abitofwatersloshesontothefloor.
“Staywithme?”Hesaysthosethreewordsnotasademand,butasadefenselessquestion.Aneed.Adesperatehope.TonighthaspeeledbackeverythingIthoughtIknewaboutNathan,andnowIseeamanwho’sjustasscaredasme.Ilovehimmore.
Inodandstepintohisexpansiveroom.Nathangentlyclosesthedoorbehindus,andmyheartgallopswhenIhearitquietlylatch.Thefloor-to-ceilingwindowistenstepsaway,andItakeeachofthemwithameasuredcalmthenlookoutoverthemostincredibleviewoftheocean,nothingobstructingthedarkexpanseofwaterandwhitecrestsofthewavesbreakingagainstthesand.Itlookspeacefulyetdangerousoutthere.That’sexactlyhowitfeelsinheretoo.
“Bree?”Nathanasksfrombehindme,andIwhirlaroundlikeatornadothat’ssuddenlydirectionless.
“I’mnervous,”Iblurt.
Nathan’seyebrowsrise,andthenheletsoutalongbreathandatinysmile.“Same.”
“Really?Okay,good.Becauselogically,Iknowit’smeandyou.”Isputterahumorlesslaugh.“It’sadreamcometrue,infact!Ishouldn’tbenervous—Ishouldbetacklingyou.”
“It’shardertoaccomplishthanyouthink,”hesays,crackingajokethatinstantlyeasesthepricklinginmylungs.
“ButwhatI’mnervousabout—orafraidof,really,isthatIsaidIloveyoubackthereandyousaidittooonlytohumorme.”Ihavebigcartooneyesnow—Icanfeelit.
Nathansmilesinawaythatshowsbarelycontainedamusement.“Humoryou?”Hetakesanervousstepawayandrunsanawkwardhandthroughhishair.“YouthoughtIcouldhavebeenhumoringyoubytellingyouIloveyou?”
“Yes.Youdon’thavetokeeprepeatingit.”
“Ido.Becauseifyouwereinmyhead,you’dseehowdifficulttheconceptistocomprehend.Bree,I…”Hisvoicetrailsoffandthenhefreezes.Hedeflateswithasharpbreath.“Sitdown,”hecommands,andthenhedisappearsintohisgiantwalk-incloset.
Iperchonthebedandbouncemyknee.ThenIrealizeI’msittingonNathan’sbed—somethingI’veneverdonebefore—andIjumpuplikeitjustburnedmybuttcheeks.Iforcemyselftositbackdownandprocessthislikeanadult.I’minNathan’sbed.Inhisroom.Helovesme.Nope,see?Noneoftheseabstractideaswillpermeate.I’vespenttoolongbelievinghehasnotacareintheworldformeoutsideoffriendship.It’sallI’veknown.HowamIsupposedtoretrainmythoughts?
Nathanstepsbackintotheroom,andifhenoticesthatI’mbarelylettingmycheeksrestonhismattress,hedoesn’tshowit.Hisattentionisfixedontheshoeboxinhishands.Helooksnervous,maybeevenalittlesickasheextendsittowardme.WhenItrytotakeit,itdoesn’tbudge.He’swhite-knucklingthisthingsohard.
Igrunt.“Nathan,doyouwantmetolookinhereornot?”
“Not,”hesays,deadserious.“Imean,yes.Butno.”
Ishiftbackalittle.“WellnowI’mterrified.Whatdoyouhaveinhere?Bones?Endlesspicturesofearlobes?AmIgoingtobescaredofyouafterIliftthatlid?”
“Probably.”Hewinceslightlyandthenrelinquishesthebox.
Isetitdownonthebedcarefully(becausewhoknowswhat’sinhereorhowfragilethousand-year-oldbonesare)andgingerlyliftthelid.Isteelmyspineforsomethingtojumpout,becausehe’spreparedmezeropercentforwhat’sactuallyinhere.Lizards?MaybehekeepsaboxofmothsinhisclosetandwhenIopenit,they’llrushoutandchokemyairway.
It’sneither.
Afterthelidisoff,ittakesmeasecondtorealizewhatI’mlookingat.Nathanpacesawayfrommewithatighthandonthebackofhisneck.Idipmyfingersinsideandpullout…myscrunchie.ThesunshineyellowscrunchieIthoughtIlostafterTequila-gateseveralweeksago.IlookupandmakeeyecontactwithNathan.Helookslikehe’sgoingtobarf.Hisfistispressedtohismouth,andhiseyesarecrinkled.Poorthingisreallygoingthroughthevulnerabilitywringertonight.
“Thisismyscrunchie,”Isay,holdingitupforhisconfirmationthatwhatIthinkI’mseeingisactuallytrue.
Hegivesmeatightnod.“Youtookitoffandleftitonthetablethatnight.Ikeptit.”Hegesturestowardtheboxwithhiseyes.“Keepgoing.”
Nathanresumespacing,lookingatmeeverysooftenlikesomeonemightwatchasurgicaloperationtheyhavebeenforcedtoattend.Next,Ifindacocktailnapkinwithmylipstickimprintfromtheepicposter-rippingnight.ThentheorangeStarburstIthrewathimonthecouch.
ThedeeperIgointothebox,themoreIrecognizethingsIhaven’tseeninyears.AconcertticketfromaBrunoMarsshowhetookmetoformybirthday(andgotusbackstagepassesto,whichhepretendedtorandomlyfindonthesidewalkbecauseIneverallowhimtobuymeextravagantthings).Towardthebottom,Ifindagumwrapperwithmyphonenumberscribbledonitfromhighschool.Irememberthisdaylikeitwasyesterday.Wehadruntogetherforthefirsttimethatmorningbeforeclasses.Thatafternooninhomeroom,heaskedmeifI’dwanttoruntogetheragainsometime.OfcourseIsaidyes,andweexchangednumbers.Ididn’tsavetheslipofpaperhegavemewithhisnumber,though,andnowIfeellikeahorriblyunromanticmonster!
OnceI’vegonethrougheverysingleiteminthisboxandspreaditalloutonthebedaroundme,Imeethisgaze.HefinallycomesnearmeandplucksthescrunchieI’mclutchinglikeit’samillion-dollarbilloutofmyhands.“Thissmelledexactlylikeyourhair.Coconut.Ishouldhavegivenitbacktoyou,butIcouldn’t.”Hetossesitinthebox.I’mnevergettingthatscrunchieback.Next,hegrabsmyhandstotugmeuptostandwithhim.“Doyouseenow?You’realwaysgivingmethingsthatremindyouofme,butI’moverherestealingthingsthatremindmeofyou.I’mnothumoringyou,Bree.I’mnottakingthislightly.I’msodevastatinglyinlovewithyou,ithurtssometimes—andIhavebeensincehighschool.”
Hope,hope,hope.Ihearitbeatinginmyears.
“I’vebeendyingforyoutolovemeback—butIneverthoughtyouwould.RememberwhenyoufoundoutI’mcelibateandItoldyouitwastohelpmygame?Thatwasacompletelie.I’vebeencelibatebecauseIamsogoneforyouIcouldn’tevenstomachthethoughtofanotherwomananywherenearmybed.Shewouldneverbeyou.”Hecradlesmyface.“IloveyouwitheverythingIam,andthat’snevergoingtochangeforme.IthinkIshouldbetheonemakingsureyou’renotjusthumoringme.”
Ican’ttakethespacebetweenusanymore.Iriseuponmytoestolayonesoftkissonhislips,feelinglikethishastobeadreamandIcandoanythingIwantinmydreams.“I’velovedyousincethedayyoutiedmyshoeonthetrack.Youdidn’ttellmeitwasuntied,youjusttiedit.”
Themusclesinhisjawjumplikehe’sswallowingbacktears.“Bree,thatwasthefirstdaywemet.”Histonesays,Don’ttoywithme,woman.
“Iknow.That’sthedayitallstartedforme.”
Hismassiveshouldersriseandfallinonehugebreath,andthenhiseyesshutlikehe’sinpain.“Doyoumeantotellme…we’vebothlovedeachotherallthistimeandneversaidanything?”
Ilaugheventhoughit’snotfunnyatall.Irunafingeroveroneofhiseyebrows.“Yes.Ithinkso.”
“Butwhataboutcollege?Youcompletelypushedmeawaythen.IthoughtIdidsomethingwrong.”
Oh.That.
Ismoothahanddownthefrontofhisshirt,suddenlyveryconcernedaboutwrinkles.Iguesswhilewe’reemptyingouremotionaltanks,Imightaswellgoaheadandsqueezealittlemoreout.“I’msosorry,Nathan.IpushedyouawaybecauseIwasterrified.IcouldseethewayyouwerethinkingofturningdownyourUTscholarshiptostayhomewithme,andalthoughInevertoldyou,Iwasreallydepressedafterthecaraccident.Iwasafraidyouwereabouttocompletelygiveupyourdreamsforme,andafterhangingaroundmeinmymopey,angry,defeatedstate,you’drealizeIwasn’tworthyourtimeanymoreandresentme.Iwasscaredyou’dseemelowandheartbrokenandnotwantmelikethat.SoIpushedyouaway.I’msorry,Nathan.IOld-Yelleredyou.”
Hishandtenderlycradlesmyface.“Ineverwouldhavefeltthatway.I’vealwaysjustwantedtobetheonetotakecareofyou.”
“Iknowthatnow.Butbackthen,depressiontolditsownstory,anditwashardtohearthetruththroughit.”
Hedipshisheadandsighsagainstmythroat.“Well,hearmenow:Iadoreyou,Bree.Whenyou’rehappyorsad,Iloveyou.”Nathanlaysaslow,open-mouthedkissonmyneckandclimbsuptomymouth.
Heatswirlsinmybelly,andmyheadtipsbacktoreceivehislips.Softly,theysweepovermine.Hegentlytastesthecornerofmymouth,andIpartmylipstoreciprocate.Iamapuddle.Someltedhehastoholdmeup.Kissesbythemselvesarenice;kissesafteradeclarationoflovearelife-changing.
I’mliftedoffthefloorandtossedplayfullyontohisbed.AlaughripsthroughmeuntilNathangrabsthebackofhisshirtandtugsitoverhishead.Hiseyesareasdarkastheskyathisback.Iswallowthicklyashemovestohoveroverme.Hisweight.GAH.Goldentautskin.OOF.ThatrippedabdomenIfinallygettodancemyfingersacross.MMM.
NathansmilesdownatmeasIexploreeveryinchofhisexposedskin.Iriseupandkissonepec.Thentheother.Ilightlybitehisbicep,andhelaughs.“Sothat’showit’sgoingtobe?”
Iinnocentlybatmylashesathim,andhedipshisheadtocrushhismouthagainstmine.Thisoneisnotsoftortender.It’syearsandyearsandyearsofwaiting.It’sadesperatebreathatthesurfaceofthewaterwhenyou’rerescuedfromdrowning.Iclingtohimfordearlife.Hekissesmedeeply,thoroughly,lavishly.Hishandslidesunderthebackofmyshirt,andthatcallousedskinscrapesdeliciousfireovermine.Ifeelbranded.
Nathaniseverywhere.AndIamfullofneed.Ihavefallenforthismansocompletely,andnowwe’refinallyheretogether,twistinginhissheets,kissinglikeitmightberippedawayfromusatanymoment.Kissinglikeweloveeachother.HewhisperssoftdeclarationsovermyskinthatIwon’trepeat.Theyareformeandmealone.
Suddenly,Nathanpullsaway,adruggedlookinhiseyeswhenhesmoothsthehairsawayfrommyface.Breathless,heletsoutagutturalgroan,comingtosomesortofunvoicedconclusioninhishead.Headjustsontohiselbowbesideme.“Bree,Iwanteverythingwithyourightnowmorethananything,but…dammit.Ican’tbelieveI’mgoingtosaythis.Ithinkweshouldwait.”
Shockeddoesn’tbegintodescribehowIfeelhearingthosewords,especiallysincehe’sbeencelibateforsolong.ButIwon’tlie,partofmeissortofgrateful.I’magirlwholikestobepreparedforthesekindsofthings,mentallyandphysically,andtonightwassounexpected;IknowI’mnotintherightheadspaceforityet.Ineedalittledigestingtime.
ButthenNathanshocksmeinaless-than-pleasantwaywhenhecontinues,“Actually,I…Isortofwanttowaituntilwe’remarried.”
WHAT!?Mybrainscreechestoahalt.Didhesaymarried?!DidheproposeatsomepointtonightandImissedit?
MyeyesmustconveymythoughtsbecauseNathan’ssmilewidensandhetrailshisfingerdownmynecktodancelightlyovermycollarbone.Conflictingbodylanguagethere,buddy.“Don’tworry,I’mnotproposingyet.ButIknowyoudon’tliketobesurprisedbystuff,sothisismesayingIwillproposetoyouatsomepoint.AndI’mhopingyou’reokaywiththattimebeingprettysoon,becauseIfeellikewe’vealreadybeendatingforsixyears,justnotofficially.”
He’sright,andItellhimso.I’veneverknownanotherhumanmoreintimatelythanIknowNathan,andbestfriendslikeusdon’tcasuallydate.Itwasanunspokenagreementthatbydeclaringourfeelings,weweresaying,I’mallin.You’reitforme.
“Iagree,”Isayinbetweenhisteasingkissesandlightnipsatmybottomlip.“Butwhywaituntilwe’remarried?Thatseemsso…”
“Oldfashioned?”heasks,hisfingersfeatheringdownmyarmtotracemybareringfinger.Hepressesafirmkissagainstmytemple.“Iknow.Iwon’tlie,that’spartoftheappeal.IfI’velearnedanythingoverthepastfewweeks,it’sthatI’veneverreallyhadtopursueromancebefore.Youknow?Savorthelittletouches”—hisknucklesbrushagainstmybelly,andittightens—“insteadofjustgoingforitrightaway.”
Ajealouslittletrollrisesupinsidemethathe’sgoneforitrightawaywithsomanywomenbefore,butItellittogetlost.BecauseI’mtheonewho’swithhimnow,andhopefullyforever
Hegazesintomyeyeswithalongingsmile.“Ijustwanttodothingsdifferentlywithyou,Bree.”
Ibreatheinhisscentandletmyheartsteepinit.“Okay.We’llwait.”Igrinupathimandpokehiminthecheek.“You’resuchabigsoftie.”
“Withyou,yes.”
Hekissesmeagain,thistimesoftly,sweetly,gratefully.Herisesupontoonemuscledarmtoleanovermeandturnoffthelight.ThatpowerfulimageofmusclesandtendonsandmasculinefleshisthelastoneI’llseetonight,anditdoesnothingtocoolmeoff.
Nathandropsdownbesidemeandpullsmeontohischest.Ikissit.“Justdon’tspreaditaroundthatI’mamarshmallow,”hesaysinateasingtone.“It’llkillmyimage.”
“Whichimage?Theoneofyousecretlysneakinghundred-dollarbillsintomywidowedneighbor’smailbox?Oryoubuyinganentirebuildingsolittleballerinascancontinuetoaffordtheirtraining?”
Hekissesthetopofmyhead,andIdon’tmissthemomenthebreathesinthescentofmyhair.We’rehomeineachother’sarms.Inuzzleintohisstrongchestlikealittlecat.Itisadonedeal.I’dmarryhiminfiveminutesifthatwereanoption.
“It’sallforyou,Bree.”Saturday,BreeandIsleepinuntilteno’clock.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIdidthat.Highschool,maybe?Iwakeupafewtimesandneveroncefeeltheurgetogetupandgetmydaygoing.EverythingIwantisrighthereinmyarms.Drooling.
Eventually,I’mgoingtohavetoleaveBreeforafewmeetingsandthengettotheairportformyflighttoHoustonwherewe’llplayourlastplayoffgame
SaturdaysaretheclosestthingIhavetoanoffdayduringtheseasonbecauseIdon’tstepfootintheweightroomonthesedays,soitusuallygetspackedfullofmeetings.Which…nowthatIthinkaboutit,makesitnotanoffday.Thismorning,though,IblewoffanearlymeetinginfavorofstaringcreepilyatBreewhileshesleeps.I’llhavetodealwithNicole’swrath,butit’sworthit.Ithinkthat’sconsideredprogress.
OneofBree’shairsgetssuckedintohermouth,andwhenItrytocarefullyextractit,shejoltsawake.Likeajack-in-the-box,sheboltsuprightinbed,haireightsizeslargerthannormal.Shewhipsaroundtomewithwideeyeslookinglikeshejustwokefromacryogenicsleep.
“ITEACHACLASSATTENTHIRTY!”
Abityell-yinthemornings.It’sokay,I’llstillkeepher.
Throwingthecoversoff,shesprintsfromthebedandoutoftheroom.IstareattheemptydoorwayuntiltwosecondslaterIhearfootstepsracingback.AflashofoctopushairandlimbsisallIseebeforeshetacklesmeonthebed.Hoveringoverme,herdimplespopandshekissesmewithapunctuatedPOP.“Goodmorning.Iloveyou.”
Ismileandleanuptokisshermorefully,butshetucksherchin.
“UH,no.Neitherofusbrushedourteethlastnight,andmorningbreathisrank.Yougetaclosed-mouthpuckerandNATHANSTOPITRIGHTNOW!”She’sscream-laughingbecauseI’mticklingherruthlessly.
“You’resayingmybreathisbad?!You’llpay.”
“Letmego!Ihaveclass!”Shecanbarelytalk,she’slaughingsohard.
“Youshouldn’thavecomeback.Thatwasyourfirstmistake,andnowyou’recaught.”Istopticklingherlongenoughtoreachintomybedsidetable,grabmyListerinespray,andtakeahit.Herjawdropsatmyaudacitytokeepsomethinglikethatatmybedside,butwhatcanIsay,I’mnoamateurhere.Withhermouthopenlikeafish,I’mabletogiveheraspritz.
Shecackleslaughing,andthenIkissherlikeIwantto.Itakemytime.
Breetextsmelaterthatshe’slateforclassandit’sallmyfault.I’llgladlytakethatfall.
Ileanbackinthegiant,porcelain,clawfoottubandFaceTimeBree.Thecallconnectsjustasabubblepopsbymyshoulder.Hersmilingfacefillsmyscreen,harshstudiolightshoveringaboveherhead.Shesquints,andthenasmileburstsacrosshermouth.
“You’reinthebath!!!”
“Abubblebath.”Iholdupahandfulofsuds.
I’veneverseenherlookmorepleased.Icanseethelightpinkspaghettistrapsofherleotard,andthehairsonherneckarematteddownwithsweat.Whenshetakesthephonewithhertositdownwithherbackleaningagainstthemirror,Icantellinthereflectionthatshe’salone.She’sbreathingheavily.“And?Completelywonderful,right?”
“IhadnoideawhatIwasmissing.”Truthfully,I’mprettybored,butI’llsitinhereeverynightfortherestofmylifeifitmakeshersmilelikethat.Also,aftermytalkwithBreelastnight,I’mreadytostartdoingsomethingstotakecareofmymentalhealth.Ialsoscheduledanappointmentwithatherapistfornextweek.Nervousaboutthatone,notgonnalie.
“Onlywayitcouldbebetterisifyouwereinhere—”
“NNOOOPPEEE,”Jamalyellsfromtheothersideofthebathroomdoor.
OurflightgotintoHoustonafewhoursago,andbecauseofthestrictcurfewtheteamenforcesthenightbeforeeachgame,I’malreadyinmyhotelroomforthenight.Everyplayerisassignedasuitematewhenwetravel,andJamalisusuallymine.
“Don’tyoustartallthat.Noonewantstohearyourbubblebathdirtytalk,”hesaysfromtheothersideofthedoorwhereI’msurehe’slyingonthesilkpillowcasehebroughtfromhome.
“HiJamal!”Breeyellsintothephone
“Justputyourheadphoneson,”Itellhim.
“No.I’llstillknowwhat’sgoingoninthere,andI’mnotokaywiththat.”
Irollmyeyes.“You’rejustmadIstolethebathtubbeforeyou.”
“YES,I’MMAD!”hesaysinanindignanttone.“ForyearsI’vebeentakinganightlybubblebathandenjoyingthehelloutofit,andallofasudden,yournewgirlfriendtellsyouhowgloriousitisandyouusurpmyself-caretime.Notcool,man.”
Breelooksdelighted.
“Hewearsoneofthosecracklygreenmaskslikeyourstoo,”ItellBree,notbotheringtokeepmyvoicedown.
“Yes,Ido,andIdon’tappreciateyourcondescendingtone.Mencanappreciatehavinggoodskintoo.Infact,youcouldstandforaporetreatmentortwo,Nathan.Icanseeyourblackheadsthroughthedoor.”
Myporesarejustfine.
“Ignorehim,”ItellBree,sinkingalittlelowerintothewater.“Sowhatareyoudoingatthestudio?”
“Oh,I’mjustworkingonthechoreographyforoneoftherecitaldancescomingup.”
“Yeah?CanIsee?”
Hercheeksturnpink.OtherthanwhenI’vepeekedinonherteachingaclassortwoovertheyears,Ihaven’tseenherreallydancesincehighschool,sincebeforetheaccident.Forsomereason,it’salwayssomethingshekeepstoherself.I’mhopingnowthatthingsarechangingbetweenus,she’llletmebackintothatpartofherlifeaswell.
Shewrinkleshernose.“Idon’tknow.It’sstillrough.There’snotmuchtosee.”Hershouldersaretwitchingandherheadkeepsshaking,makingherlooklikeanalientryingtodoanimpressionofaNormalHumanBeing.
“Breeee.”Icutoffherblabbering,andsheshootsmealook.
“Natthhaannn.”
“Comeon.Letmewatchyoudance.I’llevenputonabubblebeardthewholetimetomakeyoufeellessembarrassed.”
Jamalinterjectsagain.“UGH,Y’ALLAREGROSS!”
“Mindyourownbusiness!”Isay,throwingabarofsoapatthedoor.IfocusmyattentiononBreeagain.“Whydon’tyouwanttodanceinfrontofme?”
Hereyesdartaroundtheroomandherteethsinkintoherbottomlip.Damn,IwishIwastheretokissher.Wedidn’thaveenoughtimelastnightorthismorning.Ineedweekswithher—no,yearstomakeupforlosttime.
“I’mnotasgoodasyouremember.”
“You’reinluck—Idon’trememberanything.Whatevenisballet?Isthatthethingwhereyoumakeallthenoiseswithyourshoes?”Shelaughsandgivesmealookthatsays,Nicetry.“Bree,takeagoodlookatme.I’mFaceTimingyoufromabubblebathrightnow.Doesn’tgetmuchmorevulnerableformethanthat.”
“Fiiiiiine.Okay,youwin.”ThephonegetsplacedonthefloorandangledupsoIcanseetheentirestudio.Breeleansdowntowardthescreenandpointsafingeratme.“Butjustknow,I’mnotasfluentorgracefulasIusedtobe.Andthechoreographyneedsalotofwork.That’sthewholepointofmestayinglatetonight.”
Iholdabubblyhandupintheair.“It’llbelikeI’mnotevenhere.”
Hersmileslants.“Mhmm.Sure.”
Thesoundofsoftpianofillstheair,andBreestandsinthecenterofthefloor.Herbubblegumpinkleotardispaintedtoherbody,makingherlooksoftanddelicate,butthenherfavoriteoversizedgreyjoggersswallowupherlowerhalf,contrastingwithherprimandproperupperhalf.It’saperfectrepresentationofherpersonality.She’swearingthemasshealwaysdoes:rolleddownatthewaistandcinchedupoverhercalves.Pointeshoesaretiedaroundherankles,arainbowofbraceletsstacksuponeofherarms,andherhairisinawispyFrenchbraiddanglingdownherback.
Thoselongleanarmsstretchathersidesandglideaboveherhead.Shegoesupontohertoeslikeit’snothingandbeginsasoftwalkthatturnsintoaseriesofimpressiveturns.Isitinawe,watchingBree’spowerful,gracefulbodytwirl,jump,andcompletelycaptivatemeuntilmywaterturnstoice.Idon’tcarethough,becauseIdon’teverwanttolookaway.
Wedon’ttalkatallduringthistime.It’sclearsheishyperfocusedonhermovements,andIwouldn’tdareruinthisglimpseintoheavenfortheworld.Quietconfidencepulsesthroughherveinsassheleaps.Theanglesofherbodyaresharpglassandsoftvelvetatthesametime.Shecreatestheillusionthatshe’sasdelicateaslace,butwhensheleapsoffthegroundwithherlegsflawlesslyextendedinoppositedirectionsandthenlands—barelymakingasound—yourealizesheisnottobeunderestimated.Sheisstrongandfierceinherdelicateskin.Lifetriedtoholdherdown,butshegaveitthemiddlefingerandstoodupagain.
BreeiseverythingIaspiretobe,everythingIlove,everythingIdesire.Sheholdsmyheart,and,withallthatIam,Ihopeshenevergivesitback.It’sSuperBowlSunday,baby!And,yes,theSharksmadeit!TheywontheNFCChampionshiptwoweeksago,andnowwe’reallhereinLasVegaswheretheSharks(akathegreatestteamonearth)willbeplayingtheDonkeys(justkidding,they’rereallycalledtheStallions,butnoonecaresaboutthem,andwewantthemtoeatdirt).LilyleftherkiddoswithDougsoshecouldbemyplus-one.Nathanpaidtoflyusoutfirstclasslastnight,andIlethimbecausemybankaccounthasabouttwobucksandapieceofguminitbuttherewasnowayIwasmissingthefreakingSuperBowl.Also,nowthatweareofficiallytogether,I’vehadtogetbetteratlettinghimpayforthings.Turnsout,itsparksjoyforhimwhenIlethimspoilme,soI’mtryingtosayyesmoreoften
Like,forinstance,whenIreceivedtheemailthatmydancestudiohadbeenchosenfortheavailablespaceatTheGoodFactory(I’mtryingtoplayitcool,butjustknowI’mjumpingupanddown),NathanimmediatelyaskedifIwouldlethimpayfortherenovationswe’dhavetodototurnthespaceintoadancestudio,andwemadeacompromise.InsteadofpayinghimbackwiththemoneyIearneddoingthecommerciallikeIhadplanned,I’mgoingtouseitfortherenovations.See,growth.
Ihaven’tseenhimsincewegottoVegasbecausehe’sbeenridiculouslybusywiththeteamandmediaevents,likehehasbeenthelastfewweeksafterwinningtheNFCChampionship.Icompletelyunderstand,though,andhavestoleneverymomentwithhimthatIcan.Soon,itwillallbeoverandwecanfinallyspendafewmonthstogetherintheoffseason,freeofhisrigorousschedule.
There’sbeennonstop,next-leveltextingthough.Alwaysflirtylittlenumberslikethisconversationwehadshortlyafterlandinglastnight.
Me:Hihotstuff.We’reinVegas!
Nathan:Ithoughtthedaysuddenlyseemedbrighter.
Me:Stoooopppppjkit’ssogrossandIloveit.Keepdoingit.
Nathan::)Missyou.Pleasedon’tgetdrunkandelopewithanystrangedudestonight.
Me:Goshyou’resopicky.
Nathan:Damnstraight.OnlymanyoucanelopewithinVegasisme.
Me:Ohgood.Becauseyou’retheonlyoneIwanttoelopewith.Howabouttonight?
Nathan:Can’ttonight.I’mbusy.Howabouttomorrownight?Ihavealittlethingfromlike6:30-10:30butafterthatI’mfree.
Me:Sure!Soundsgood!
Now,LilyandIarewalkingtoourprovidedboxatthestadium,strappedintopainfulhighheelsandSaran-wrappedinfashionabledesignerdressesalaMarshalls
Except,becauseI’mmeandcan’tbecountedontocompletelyconformtosocietalfashionnorms,I’vealsopairedmycute,white,bodycondresswithablackjersey(withNathan’snumber8,ofcourse)cinchedwithalittleknotinthefront.
SomethingIlearnedearlyoninNathan’scareer:NFLwivesandgirlfriendslivebyastrictfashioncode,andthatcodeisfancyAFatalltimes.Ashisfriendonly,Iwasfreetogotothegamesinsneakersandat-shirt.Ashisgirlfriend…actually,whocares.I’llstillcometothegamesinwhateverIwant.Today,Iwantedtowearheelsanddressup.Nextgame,itmightbeaonesiewithahood.Noonecaneverreallypredictwhat’sgoingtohappenwithmysartorialchoices.
Afterbeingshowntothebox,westepinsideandfindVivian,Nathan’smom,alreadyhereandsuckingupalltheoxygenwithherbigego.She’sswirlingtheolivesinhermartiniglass,lookinglikeshe’sgotatleasttensnootycommentsonthetipofhertongue.
“Hi,Mrs.Donelson,it’sgoodtoseeyouagain.”Ismileandholdoutmyhandlikeacarsalesman.Wannabuythisloadofcrap?Normalpeoplehuginsituationslikethis.Butlet’sallrememberthatVivianDonelsonisfarfromnormal,andshe’salwaysseenmeasathreattoNathan’scareer.Inotherwords,shehatesme.
Thosedarkeyes—similartoNathan’sbutinahauntingwaythatmakesyouthinktheynevershut—slitherdowntomyextendedhand.“Nexttime,you’lldowelltogetamanicurebeforeabiggameliketheotherplayers’wivesandgirlfriends.Andleavethetackybraceletsathome.Theydon’tfitinthisworld.”Thoseeyesslidebackup.Hand:unshook.“NoonelikesahippiesittingintheNFLwives’section.”
Lilystepsforwardlikeshe’sgoingtoripherearringsoutofherearsandpummelthiswomanWreck-ItRalphstyle.Igrabherforearmandstopher,becauseIdon’tneedhertofightthisbattleforme.I’mnotevenstungbyherwords.AllIfeelrightnowissadnessforNathan.Tohavegrownupwithsuchanexacting,demandingmotherwouldhavebeenexcruciating.Nowonderhefeelsswampedbypressureandexpectations.I’malsoinaweofhimforovercomingthiswoman’sinfluenceandbecomingsuchagenerous,kindpersoninspiteofher.Itjustprovesthatmoneyisnotwhatdefinesaperson;itonlyenhancestheirnature.
Well,it’stimeMrs.Donelsonisenlightenedabouthernatureandwhatsortofeffectithasonthepeoplearoundher.Nathanhasreallysteppedawayfromhisparentsoverthelastfewweeksasperthesuggestionofhistherapistandhasbeencommittedtoimplementingnewboundaries.He’sopeneduptomeaboutthingsfromhischildhoodthatIhadnoideaaboutandalsotalkedfranklyabouthismom’sattitudetowardmespecifically.HewasclearfromthebeginningofournewrelationshipthatIneverhavetowearagagaroundhismom.I’mfreetospeakmymindandstandupformyselfwithhisfull,unwaveringsupport.
Soeveryone,standback—I’mabouttobecomethiswoman’sworstnightmare.
“Mrs.Donelson,”Ibeginwithameasuredsmile.“First,it’swellpasttimeforyoutostopsayingrudethingslikethattome.”
Ithinkshewouldfrown,butherfaceisalwayssetinascowlsoit’shardtotell.
Icontinue,“AsIthinkyoualreadyknow,Iamheretostay.Andyoucanbecompletelysurethatifyoucontinuetospeaktomeormyboyfriendlikeyouhaveinthepast,yourdaysinthisboxwithuswillbeover.Justbecauseyoubirthedhimandpushedhimtowardsuccess,itdoesnotguaranteeyourplaceinourlives.”
AsI’vesaidbefore,I’mnothreattowomeninNathan’slife—untiltheymakehimchoose.Hewillchoosemeeverysingletime,andnowthatIknowwhy,Ifullyintendtoletthatpowergotomyhead.Iwillprotecthimjustasfiercelyasheprotectsme.
“Iwon’tspeakonNathan’sbehalfeventhoughIhavealistaslongasmyarmofissuesIwouldlovetocommenton,butasforhowyoutreatme,youarecondescendingandrude,andIwon’tputupwithit.”
Lily’seyesgowideandshepressesherlipstogethertokeepfromopenlysmiling.Mrs.Donelson’slefteyetwitcheseversoslightly.Herchinrisesintheair,andI’mpreparedforherslashingwords.Actually,I’mpreparedforaliteralslapacrosstheface.
Neitherofthosethingshappen.
“Thisdrinkishorrible.I’mgoingtoseeifwhattheyhaveoutthereisanybetter.”Shebrushespastus,andachillsweepsthroughtheairalongwithher.IthankmyluckystarsNathanisnotclosewiththatwomanandIdon’thavetoendureherbutafewtimesayear.
Onceshe’sgoneandthedoorclosesbehindher,Lilyturnstome.“Ihaveneverbeenmoreproudofyouinmylife.”Well,good,becauseI’mliterallyshakingnowthatit’sallover.“Allthatwomanneededwasafurcoatandshe’dbeaDisneyvillain.Also,whereisNathan’sdad?”
“Hehasabigmeetingtomorrowthathewantstoberestedfor.HetoldNathanhe’dcatchpartofthegameonTV.”
Lilyblinks.“You’rekiddingme.”
“Iwish.”
Nathanhasworkedsohardtopleasehisparents,andhereheis,attheSuperBowlforthesecondtime,andhisdaddoesn’tevenbothertoshowbecauseheneedstowashhishairandgethisbeautysleep.
LilyandIwalkdownthethreelittlestairsthatleadfromtheentertainingareaoftheboxtotheleatherseatsinfrontoftheglass.Thestadiumisrapidlyfillingwithfansalldeckedoutinconflictingcolorsofblackandsilver,orangeandnavy.Energysparksthroughthestadiumlikefireworks.Myownanticipationisbubblingthroughme,fancychampagnestyle.
Nathan(andhisteam,butseriouslywhocaresaboutthem)willrunthroughthattunnelshortly,andthisstadiumwillgowild.Theyholdsignswithhisnameonit,wearingjerseysprintedwithhisnumber,andtheopposingfansfearhimandwhathewilldotoday.Hisnamewillbeonthetonguesofthousands.Chantedandscreamed.Everyonespeculates,WhatisNathanDonelsonlikeinreallife?
ButIknow.
Iknowaboutthegreenbottleofshampoo,andthathe’sscaredofflying.IknowhecankeepasecretbetterthanLilythesummerabottleofwinemysteriouslywentmissingfrommyparents’winefridge,andIknowNathan’ssheetsfeelbuttersoftagainstmyskin.Heismine,andmyheartfist-pumpsatthethought.
Mrs.Donelsonreturnsalittlelaterwithafreshdrink,andweallsitinterriblyawkwardsilence.Shetapsherlongmanicurednailsagainsttheplasticarmrest,andwe’realldyingforthisgametobegin.Thelongpointofherhighheelvibratesbackandforth.LilyandIkeepmakingdiscreettorturefacesbackandforthbehindherback.
Finally,theannouncersboomoverthespeakers.“Ladiesandgentlemen,it’stimetowelcometheNFCChampions,theLASharks!”
Thestadiumflareswithscreams,andcameracrewsswarm.It’sshowtime.I’montheedgeofmyseatasthedensefogandbrightlightsfillthefrontoftheSharks’tunnel.
Andtheretheyare.
Nathanemergesfirstwiththeteamonhisheels.Theysprintthroughthefogwithaself-confidencethatshiversovereveryone’sskin.Inthismoment,Idon’tcarewhatyouthinkaboutthesport—youwanttobetheseathletes.
Jamalflexesbotharmsandgladiator-yells.Othermenarefist-pumpingandair-kickingtheirwayacrossthefieldtotheirbench.NathanisquietlyNathan.Herunsoutwithsteelinhisveins,unflappableasalways.Whenhe’sonthefifty-yardline,hestopsandhishelmettiltsup.Icanfeelhiseyesonmeasifhisfingersweretrailingacrossmyskin.Hesmilesforthefirsttimeandliftshisarmtowaveatme.Andthenhepoints.TheuniversalgestureofThisisforyou,love.Imakeagoofyfacethenblowhimakiss.Hecatchesit.Fansturnandzerotheirlaser-beameyesonme—butallIcareaboutisNathan.
Duringhalftime,LilyandMrs.Donelsonareattemptingtochitchat,butsinceLilyistalkingthroughclenchedteeth,I’massumingit’sprobablynotgoingwell.I’veslippedawayintothesnackbarareaoftheboxtostareatmyphonejustincaseNathangetsaminutetotextme.
“…it’sbecausehe’sbeen…distractedlately,”saysMrs.Donelsoninanot-so-veiledattempttoblamethefactthattheSharksaredownbyatouchdownonme.Iselectacookiefromthetableandtakealargebite.Mmm,chocolatechips.
LilyfeelstheneedtogotobatformeandNathan—whichisadorableandhilarioustomebecauseIdon’twasteonefeelingonVivian.“Distractionsaregoodforhumans.Ithinkhisdistractionsarewhathelpedhimevadethatsackinthesecondquarter.”Abitofareach,Lil,butthegestureissweet.
Mrs.Donelsonhuffs.Icontinuetoeatmycookie.“Notlikely.Helookssluggishtoday.Idon’tthinkhe’sbeenspendingenoughtimetraining.”
“Idon’tthinkyou’vebeenspendingenoughtimetellinghimheisdoingagreatjob!!”
Whoa,thatescalatedquickly.Lilystands.Mrs.Donelsonstands.Thesewomenareabouttothrowdown,andI’mjustbackhereenjoyingmycookie.
MyphonebuzzessoIturnawayandgetlostinconversationwithmyfavoriteperson.
Nathan:Hi.How’syourdaygoing?
Me:Oh,fine.How’syours?
Nathan:Prettyboring.Nothing’sreallyhappening.Imissyou.
Mrs.Donelson’svoicecutsthroughmythoughtsbriefly.“IpushhimbecauseIlovehim!”
Me:Same.Same.
Nathan:Arewestillonforourplanslater?
“THATISNOTLOVE,”Lilyshouts.
“Andjusthowlonghaveyoubeenamom,missy?”
“Don’tmissyme!”
Me:Ourelopement?Ohyeah,Itotallyforgotaboutthat.Soundsgoodthough.
Ilovethatwe’rejokinglikethis.Behindmeadaytimesoapoperaisunfolding,andNathanandIarepretendingwe’regoingtoelope.
Nathan:Perfect.Well,mybosssaysIgottagetbacktowork.Loveyou.
Me:Loveyou!!Gokickyourfellowemployees’asses!
Nathan:*sharkemoji*
IturnaroundtothesightofMrs.DonelsonandLilyhugging.WhatthehelldidImiss?!
We’veallbeenholdingourbreathforthelasttenminutes.Thisgameissotight.Currently,thescoreis21-17,Sharksdownbyfour.Thereareonlythirtysecondsleftontheclock,andit’sfourthdown.Theyneedtogetafirstdowninordertohaveachanceatwinning,andtheyhavenotimeoutsleft.Thestressinthisstadiumispalpable,and
Bothteamsgetintoformationquickly,andthentheballissnappedtoNathan.Heshufflesonhisfeetafewtimes,lookingforanopenreceiver,butthere’snotone.MyhearthammersasIwatchhimtucktheballunderhisarmandrun.Hehasnochoicebuttotrytogetthefirstdownhimself.
Atfirst,thingslookpromising,butthen,asifI’mseeingitallinslowmotion,adefensiveplayerbuststhroughthelineandplowsintoNathan,layinghimflatonhisback.
Theballisknockedloose.Fumbled.Gameover.
Acollectivegasptremorsthroughthestadium,andallofourshoulderssink.TheplayerwhotackledNathanstandsandextendshishandtohelphimup.IsighwithaudiblereliefwhenNathantakesitandstandsunharmed.
IrealizeatthatmomentthatI’mstucktotheglasswalllikeabugonawindshield.Peelingmyselffree,IturntofacemysisterandNathan’smom.Somehow,we’veallmanagedtobondoverthissecondhalfofthegame.LilyreallygaveViviansomethingtothinkaboutduringtheirverbalspar,andshe’sbeenmorepliableeversince.Oh,don’tgetmewrong,she’sstillamajorpill,butIthinkinthatmomentwhenLilyhelpedVivianseethatshehadsomehowbecomeanexactreplicaofherownmotherwhomshedespised,itstunnedher.
We’vegonethroughalot,thethreeofusduringthisSuperBowlgame.
Andnowit’sover.
TheStallionstakeakneeonthenextsnap,endingthegameofficially.Idon’tgivemyselfevenamomenttosearchforNathan’sfaceonthesidelines,becauseallIwanttodoiswrapmyarmsaroundhimassoonaspossible.SoIusethistimetohustlemybootydowntheelevatorandtothemediaentrance.Securityguardscheckmybadgeatthegate,andthenI’mherdedwiththerestoftheplayers’familymembersthroughadarktunnelthatleadstothefield.
Oops.IjustrealizedImovedsofastoutoftheboxthatIaccidentallyleftLilyandMrs.Donelsoninmydust.Toobad.Gottohustle,ladies.
IemergefromthetunneljustintimetoseeNathaninthemiddleofthefield,sharingaquickhugwiththequarterbackofthewinningteam.He’sclassy,thatNathan.Themanmanagestolookgenuinelyhappyforhisopponent,eventhoughIknowhe’sdevastated.
Hehasworkedsohardtogettothismoment,onlytobetheonewhodeliveredthelosingplayintheend.Ihopethemediadoesn’tharponthatonefault,becausethatmanplayedahellofagamebeforethatmomentanditdeservestobenoted.Butsomehow,Iknowtheywill.ThatoneclipofNathanfumblingtheballwillgetshownonrepeatoverandover
Camerasarealloverthetwoquarterbacksexchangingwords.ConfettirainsdownfromaboveasplayerscongratulateeachotherandshowgoodsportsmanshipthatIknowtheyarenotfeeling.Jamalisacrossthefield,andhepresseshisfingerandthumbintohiseyestostoptearsfromfalling.Derekisonthebenchwithhisheadhanginglow.Ican’tfindPriceandLawrence,butI’msuretheirvibesaresimilar.
It’sakaleidoscopeofemotionsonthisfield.Whereonemaniselatedandchest-bumpinghisteammateorkissinghiswife,another’seyesarecastdownandhe’schokingbackdisappointment.
IlosesightofNathanandfeelslightlypanicky.Howisheholdingup?Mysteelteddybearofaperfectionistisonthisfieldsomewhere,andIknowhe’scrushed.Ineedtogettohim.
Standingonmytoesintheendzone,Icranemynecktosee,butit’sdifficultwithsomanyotherbodiesonthefield.Iconsideraskingoneofthesegiantsinpadstoliftmeontheirshoulders,butI’msavedwhenIfinallyspotNathanonthesidelinesexchangingwordswithoneofhiscoaches.Themanhandshimsomethingthenpointsinmydirection.Ithrowmyarmsopenwide,readytoholdNathanwhilehecriesintomybosom.
Whenheturns,hisgazehitsmelikeaheavyweightchampioninthering.I’mbreathless.Hedoesn’tneedtocryintomybosom.Thatmanissmiling.
Hewalkstowardme,confettirainingdownonhim,peoplehugging,celebrating,andcryingallaroundhim,andhepartstheemotionsliketheRedSea.Heissweatyandglistening.Sinewyarmsarepumpedandveinyfromplayingalong,exhaustinggame.Cameracrewsseehissmileandswarmhim.(Iunderstandtheircuriosity.)Maybehe’shavingamentalbreakdownatthisverymoment?Maybehethrewthegameonpurpose?Becausethisisnotthelookofapersonwhojustlosteverythinghe’severwanted.
No.Hegetsclosetome,andhisbrightwhiteteethglintunderthefieldlights.Hedropshishelmetathisfeet,andthenhiskneefollowssuit.Allthechaosaroundusdisappears.It’smeandmybestfriend.Andhe’sproposing.
“Hi,prettyfriend,”hetellsme,takingmyhandinhis,whichisroughwithnewcallusesandwrappedinmedicaltape.“Iknowwealreadyplanneditlastnight,butIthoughtyoumightliketohearitfrommymouthratherthanovertext.”Nathansqueezesmyhand,andI’malreadycrying.“Bree,mybestfriend,Iloveyou.Wehaven’tbeentogetherverylong,butwe’vealsobeentogetherforyears.Willyoumarryme?Willyouletmeloveyoueverydayfromnowon?Willyoufinallymoveoutofyourshittyapartmentandintomine?”
Ilaugh.“Thisisalljustaploytogetmeawayfromthemold,isn’tit?”
“It’stheonlywayyou’llallowit.”
“You’resogoodatloopholes.”
Heblinksupatme,andIseemoistureonhislashestoo.“Isthatayes?”
Inodmyheadfrantically,laughingandcryingandnearlypeeingmyselfintheprocess.“Yes!”
Nathanshootsupfromhisfeetandpicksmeup,spinningmeasconfettilandsarounduslikefreshsnowfall.Canthisreallybehappening?
“Tonight?”hewhispersagainstmyear.“Willyouelopewithme?”
Atthispoint,thecameracrewgetsboredwithourHallmarkmomentandwandersbacktothewinningteamtohearthemdeclaretheyaregoingtoDisneyland.
Stillinhisarmswithmyfeetdanglingtwofeetabovetheground,everythingfeelssurreal.“Areyousure?Idon’tknowifyourealizethisornot,butthiswassortofabigdayforyou.And…youdorealizeyourteamlostjustnow,right?”Idon’twanttoaskit,butthewayhe’sactingyouwouldthinkthemanwascelebratinginsteadofmourning.AndalthoughelopingwithNathanislegitimatelythestuffofmydreams,Ineedtoknowhe’ssure.Needtobecertainhe’snotactingrashlybecausehe’sdisappointed.
Hechuckles,andhisarmstightenaroundmylowback.“Yes,Iknowwelost.Andyeah,I’mdisappointed,butmainlyI’mjustrelievedit’sallfinallyover.Ifeellikethishugeweighthasdroppedoffofme.Now,I’mjustreadytobreathebesideyouforawhile.Preferablyonabeachsomewhere.WithyouintheskimpiestbikiniIcanfind.”
Iwouldpokehiminthesides,buthe’swearingfullpads—hardlyfair.Instead,Ileanforwardandtakehislipsinonebruisingkiss.There,you’repunished.
“Bree,thewholeansweristhatIdon’twanttowaitanothersecondwithoutbeing100%trulyandcompletelyyours.Butifyouwanttowaitandhaveabigwedding,Iwill.Don’tfeellikeyouhavetomarrymetonighttomakemefeelbetterforlosing.Becausethat’snotwhatthisisforme.”
Ileaninandkisshimagain,takingmytimetoperusehislipsasifthousandsofstrangersarenotwatching.Hetasteslikesweatandhope,andthere’snowayI’mpassingthisopportunityup.Wecanhaveagiantpartywhenwegethome.
“I’llbemadifyoudon’tmarrymetonight,”ItellNathan,completelyserious.
Hischeekscreasewithasmileandhesetsmedown.“Oh,Icompletelyforgottogiveyouthis—shouldwestartover?”Heholdsuptheringboxthenpopsitopen.
I’mswimminginitsbeauty.Thisringispunch-me-in-the-gutpretty,butmostofall,itlookslikeme.It’snotgaudyormassive.Iwon’thavetodragmyhandonthegroundasIwalk.It’sasimple,beautiful,princesscutdiamond.ExactlywhatIwouldhavepickedoutmyself.
JustasIsliptheringon,Jamal,Derek,Price,andLawrenceallcrowdaroundus.It’sacommotionofcongratulationsandsweatyhugs.Itdoesn’tgettolastlongbecausetheguyshavetogoshowerthenNathanhastobeavailableforapost-gameinterview.Hehasjustenoughtimetokissmeonceonthecheek,twiceontheneck,andoncemoreonthemouthbeforehegruntsinaggravationandforceshimselftobackaway.
Hepointsatmelikehe’sgettingreadytotossmethewinningcatch.“BreeCheese.Stillwithme?”
Cuppingmyhandsaroundmymouth,Iyell,“Always!”
IfindLilybackintheboxtenminuteslater.Mrs.Donelsonhasalreadyleft,thankgoodness,soIdon’thavetoexplainanythingtoherrightnow.
“HURRY!”Isay,pullingherupoutofherchair.“GETYOURBOOTYMOVING—WEGOTTAGETMEREADYFORMYWEDDING!”“I’mgettingmarried,I’mgettingmarried,I’mgettingmarried.”Irepeatthistomyselffifteenmoretimesinthehotelbathroommirror.Luckyforme,Iwasalreadywearingawhitedressatthegame.Ishedthejerseyandvoila,instantbride!Thatsortofmakesmesoundlikeasoup.Itiltmyheadatmyreflectioninthemirror.IhopeIdon’tlooklikesoup.
Lilystandsbehindmeandputsherhandsonmyupperarms.“Areyouhavingsecondthoughts?Iwillhaveacarreadytowhiskyououtofhereinfiveminutesifthat’swhatyouwant.”
“IwillputyouinthatcarandhaveyoudriventotheairportandshippedofftoAustraliaifyoutrytotalkmeoutofthis!I’msoreadytomarryNathanit’spainful.”
Lilysmiles.“Iknowyouare.I’msohappyIgettobehereforit.”
We’vealreadycalledmymomanddad,andalthoughtheywerenotthrilledaboutmissingtheirbaby’swedding,theyarebothcompletelyaddictedtoHallmarkandcanappreciatearomanticwhirlwindwhentheyseeone.They’llbeattheweddingviaFaceTime,aswillNathan’sparents,I’massuming.
Thenextthirtyminutesarespentprimping,butsinceneitherLilynorIareveryexperiencedwithaneyeshadowpaletteandbobbypins,weFaceTimethemaster.
“Sweeptherightsidebacklikeagorgeouswaverollingontothebeachatsunset,”Dylansaysfromthescreenofmyphone.
Lilygrimaces,andherclunkyhandpullsmyhairbacktootight.Myscalpburns.“Whatdoesthatevenmean,Dylan?”
“AGORGEOUSWAVEATSUNSET,LILY!Ididnotsayatight-fistedoldgrannyatChristmas.”
Mysisterdeflatesandwhispers,“Idon’tknowwhatanyofthismeans!”
“NeitherdoI.Doyourbest.”
Lilyeventuallypleasesthemaster,andwemoveontoeyeshadow.Thebrushtremblesinherfingersasitadvancestowardmylid,andsherepeatsDylan’sinstructions.“Abirdflyingoverthecanyonwithgolddustonitswings…gotit.”Hiseyeballistakingupmostofthescreenhe’ssittingsoclosetoit.
Oncemymakeoveriscomplete,Ilookinthemirror.BothDylanandLilyswoonatthesightofme,whichbringstearstomyeyes.“Ican’tbelievethisisreal.Igettomarrymybestfriendtonight.”
Lilysnifflesandlaysherheadonmyshoulder.
Dylanswipesamistytearfromhischeekandnods.“Yes,girl,youdo.Now,stickthathandinyourbraandbobthoselittleduckiestowardthesurface.”
Nice.Amuchneededteareraser.
NathantextsLilyhisminute-by-minuteagenda,sayingit’sourweddingdaysoIshouldn’tbebotheredwithlogistics.It’s11:00PMnow,aboutanhourafterthegame,andLilyisusheringmethroughthehotellobbyandoutintothenight.Thecoldairsweepsovermyarms,andlikethemostwell-executedkidnapping,ablacked-outSUVpullsuptothecurb.Lilyopensthedoorandthrustsmeintoit.Itslamsshutbehindme,andI’mworriedforaminutethatshedidn’tmakeitinwithme.Whew.Shedid.Everythingisokay.
IlookaroundtheinteriorandfeelatugofsadnessthatNathan’snotinhere.Ihaven’tseenhimallweekendminusthatbriefmomentwhenheaskedmetospendtherestofmylifewithhim.Nobigdeal.
Lilymustseemyexpression.“He’salreadyatthechapel.Hewantedeverythingtofeelasmuchlikearealweddingdayforyouashecould.You’renotgoingtobelievethethingshepulledtogetherinthisshorttime.”
Icanbelieveit,becausethat’sjustNathan.Now,withcleareyes,Icanseethatthere’snolengthhewouldn’tcrossforme—it’showit’salwaysbeenwithhim.
WhichremindsmehowdeeplyunromanticIam.“Ohno!”Ipatmysideslikepocketsmightsuddenlyappear.“Hisring!”
Turnsout,inVegas,therearehundredsofplacestobuyaweddingringatthedropofahat.WeboughtNathan’sonourwaybacktothehotel.(Well,technicallyNathanboughtitsincehemademeusehiscreditcard.Iacceptedhismoney,because,remember?Twodollarsandapieceofgum.)
Lilysmilesanddigsinherpursefortheringbox,holdingituptriumphantly.“Yep,Igotit.Justsoyouknow,yourheadwouldfalloffifitwasn’tattached.”
“Awww,youmakemefeelsogoodonmyweddingday.”
“Andthenyou’dusethatheadasaballandgetdistractedwithabunchofkidsinafield,startingupanewafterschoolprogramwheretheyuseyourheadasthesoccerball.”
Igrimace.“Morbid.Justreallydarkhumor.”
Sheshrugslike,Itiswhatitis.Justsomecasualweddingdaycheer.
Afterafewminutesofmylegbouncingandmyfingerstappingmyknee,Lilyslidesovertotaketheseatclosertome.Sheputsherhandonmyknee.“Youknow,Ijustrealized,withMomnothere,Ihaveaveryimportantjob.”
“Andwhat’sthat?”
Hersmilegoeswicked.“Explainingtheweddingnightblisstoyou.”
“Ohmygosh.Don’tyouda—”
“Sohoney,youmighthavenoticedsomeinterestingsensationswhenyouandNathanhavekissedbefore.Don’tfeelfrightened—”
Italkrightoverher,tryingtocupmyhandoverhermouth.“Thisisnotmyfirsttime,Lily.IknowwhatI’mdoing!Ew,stopsayingthatword—”
“…andthat’swhathappenswheneverythingisdone.”Sheshimmieshershoulders,undeterredbymyaggressivepawswipingathermouth.“Now,afewfuntricksI’velearned,andyoucantextmeathank-youlater.”
I’mlaughingsohardIcanbarelyhearher.Icovermyearstomufflethesoundofhervoiceanddropmyheadbetweenmyknees.“Idon’twanttohearaboutyourweirdsexwithDoug!La-la-la.OHMYYOUDIDNOTJUSTSAYTHATWORDTOYOURBABYSISTER.”
Shetormentsmewithhersexualtipstherestofthedrive,andthiswillsurelygodowninhistoryasoneofmyfavoritedays.
DidIsayoneofmyfavoritedays?ImeanmyABSOLUTEfavoritedayofmyentireexistence.
WepulluptothechapelandI’mwhiskedoutbyanentourageofpeopleI’venevermetbefore.AwomancarryingaclipboarddragsmequicklyinsidethesmallwhiteVegaschapel,andI’msurprisedthatontheinsideitdoesn’tsmelllikeliquorandstrippers.Ibarelyhavetimetoregisteranythingasshetugsmeintoalittleroomofftothesideofthemaindoubledoors.Lilyholdsmyhandthewholeway.
Thewomanwhipsaround,outofbreath,clutchingherclipboardlikeitholdsthecodestoArea51.“Hi.Hello.Happyweddingday!I’mheretoassistyouintoyourdress.”
“Mydress?”Ilookdown.AmInaked?“Oh,I’malreadywearingone.See?”Igesturetothefabricincaseshe’sskeptical.
Shelaughs.“No,yourweddingdress.”
“Ididn’t…”MytonguestopsmovingwhenIseeshe’ssteppedasidetorevealawholegarmentrackfullofsparkly,lacy,white,andevensomechampagneandlightpinkgowns.Thereareatleasttwentyhangingthere.
Mywordstumbleout.“Arethese…dothesecomewiththechapel?Isthislikeadress-upcorner?”
Shelaughs.“No.Ibelievetheyareagiftfromyourhusband-to-be.”
IclutchmychestandlookbackatLily.She’stryingherbesttokeephercraptogether,butit’snouse.Tearsarestreaming,andshelookslikeshealreadyknewallofthiswasgoingtohappen.Istepforwardandfindalittleenvelopeattachedtothegarmentrack.InsideisanotefromnoneotherthanDylan.
Hello,Dimples.Onceagain,yourmancamethroughforyou.Ihand-selectedalloftheseforyouaweekago,andImadesuretoonlypickwhatIthinkyou’dabsolutelyadore(eventhoughIreallllyyywantedtogetyoutheCinderella-fell-into-an-orange-creamsiclegown).Loveyouboo.You’vegotyourselfagoodman.Hugsandkissesfromyoursecondfavoritemanintheworld,
Dylan.
Aweekago?Thatcan’tberight.Thatwouldmean…
“Whatareyouwaitingfor?!”Lilysays,musclingmeoutofthewaysoshecanstartsorting.“We’vegotaweddingtogetto!”
Twentyminuteslater,I’mcladinadressthatshouldbeillegalit’ssobeautiful.Thelongsleevesaremadeofdelicate,fragilelacethatextendsintoastiff-lacebodice.Ithasexactly31pearlbuttonsdowntheback.Itpoofsatthewaistandthencascadesintoamulti-tiered,luxurious,tulleskirtwithanunderstatedtrainintheback.Myskinshowsthroughthelacesleeves,thebodicetapersintoadeepVattheneckline,andwhenIwalk,itswishes.Iamaprincess,aballerina,andapowerhousebadasswomanallswaddledinoneintricatepackage.IhaveneverfeltmorelovelyorcherishedthanIdowalkingintothischapel.
Andthen,IhavetoamendthatthoughtwhenIrealizeNOWIhaveneverfeltmorecherished.Mybreathcatchesatthethreshold.It’snotatallwhatIthoughtitwouldbe.Where’sElvis?Where’sthesmellofginandbaddecisions?No,I’mhallucinating.
ThischapelwaspurchasedinheavenandovernightedtoEarth.Vaultedceilingssweepovermyheadupintotheclouds.Anenormouscrystalchandelierglittersinthemiddleoftheintimatespace.Whitewoodenplanksmakeuptheceiling,andgorgeousbeamsreinforcethem.Darkoakfloorsallowmyheelstoclick-clackoverthesurface,andtheswishofmyskirtsoundslikekissesfromtheocean.Enormousgreenandpinkflowerbouquetsfilltheroom.
Butthat’snotwhathasmecontemplatingmyconsciousness.Thischapelisfullofpeople.Mypeople.Nathan’speople.Myfamily,friends,andevenhismom.Thisisnoelopement.Thisismywedding—aweddingNathanhasclearlybeenplanningsincebeforeyesterday.
Mydad—mydadwhosupposedlywasgoingtowatchtheceremonyfromhiscellphone—isapproachingmeviathecenteraisle.Hiseyesglitterwithunshedtears,andhelooksdapperinhissuit.Heholdsouthisarm.“Hello,sweetgirl.Areyoureadytogetmarriedtonight?”
Well,nowI’msobbing.ToobadLilyworkedsohardonmymakeupsinceI’mgoingtoruinitintwoseconds.Dylanwouldbehorrified.Wait!SpeakingofDylan,thereheis!Thirdrowbackmakingaheartshapewithhishandsandblowingmeimaginarybubblekissesthroughit.IlookbackatLilywithquestionmarksinmyeyes.She’ssmilingandnodding.Sheknewthewholetime.
ThenmydadstartswalkingmedowntheaisleandIseehim.Nathan.MyNathan,mybestfriendandtheloveofmylife,standinginhisblacktux,fantastichairwavingartfullyawayfromhisface,atearrunningdownhischeek,andadazzlingsmilestretchingacrosshismouth.Heismine.Helovesme.Helovesmeenoughtoplananentiresurpriseweddingofmydreams.HowdidIgetthislucky?
Ifloatallthewaytothealtar.
MydadhandsmeofftoNathan,andnowI’minadream.JamalisstandingbehindNathan,andLilyisbehindme.Therestoftheguysarealllinedupinthefrontrow,eachtossingmeathumbs-up.Mymomdoesthesamethingfromtheotherside.Nathan’smomsettlesforasubduedsmileandwave.
Nathantakesmyhand,andtinglesswirlthroughme.Ilookupintohisjetblackeyesanddrowninlavish,luxurious,ardentlove.
“Stillwithme?”heaskswithasoft,unsuregrin.
Iswallowandtrytospeakthroughmytears.“Youdidallofthisforme?”
“I’ddoanythingforyou.Doyoulikeit?”
Itakeamomenttolookaroundagain.Allthesmilingfaces.Thereisnooxygenleftinthisroom,everyonerunningonemotionalfumes.We’reallsobbingmesses,andIcan’tseestraightfromjoy.Isqueezehishandandmeethisgazeagain.“Iloveit.Iloveyou.Howlonghaveyoubeenplanningthis?”
“SinceIwarnedyouIwasgoingtopropose.Ihiredaweddingplannerthenextday.Areyousureyoulikeit?Becauseifnot,wecancallitalloffrightnow.”
IsearchforthebestwordstoadequatelyexpresshowIfeelandcomeupseverelylacking.“Nathan—I…you…andallofthis!”Ishakemyhead.“Thankyou.Iloveitallsomuch.”AsItakeinNathan’seyes,hisclean-shavenjaw,hiswideshoulders,thesleekblacktieknottedatthebaseofhisthroat,andhisstronghandsholdingminesotenderly,afeelingofimpatiencesweepsoverme.“Sowhatnow?”
Hissmilestretches,henodstowardtheofficiantstandingofftotheside,andthenhelooksbackatme.“Ifyou’reupforit,wegetmarried.”
Iletoutashortlaughthroughmytears.“Yes,please.”MyhandiswrappedinNathan’saswewalksilentlydownthecarpetedhotelhallway.We’reonthe28thfloor,headedtowhatIhavenodoubtisthebestsuiteinthewholebuilding.WestopoutsidethedoorandNathankissesmyknuckles.Neitherofuscanbelievethisisreal.Hekeepstouchingme,kissingme,slidinghishandovermyskinateveryturn—andIthinkit’sbecausehe’stryingtoconvincehimselfthisisrealinthesamewayIam.We’reinafairytale.We’repuppetshadowsonthewall.
Heslidesthekeycardintothelock,andthelightflashesgreen.Hisforearmhitsthebackofmykneesashescoopsmeupintohisarmstocarrymeoverthethreshold.Myheartisinmythroat,andwe’rebothlaughingatthecheesylovethat’sbeenechoingbackandforthbetweenusallnight.I’vebeencallinghimhusband.He’sbeencallingmewife.Everyonehascringed.Butnotus—nottonight.
Nathancarriesmeinside,andit’sdark.Withmestilldrapedinhisarms,hereachesforthelightswitch,butIstophim.Themoonlightisspillingin,steepingtheroominromanceandsoothingmynerves.
Iswallow,andNathanlookssharplydownatme.Hiseyesareblack,velvetblankets.Hisgazewrapsmeuptight.“Don’tbenervous,”hesays,pluckingmythoughtsrightoutofmyhead.
“Iamthough.I’vewanteditfortoolong,andyoumightbedisappointed.Imightnotbeenough.”
Hissmileisonlyahint.Awhisperonhismouth.Heleansdownandnuzzleshisfaceagainstmyneck,fiveo’clockshadowamurmurofdelight.“Youwillalwaysbeenough.”
Atremblingsighfallsoutofmymouth,andI’mcarriedtothebedinhisstrongarms.Hestopsshortandletsmeslidedowngentlyuntilmyfeethitthefloor.Ilookupandmybreathisstrangled.Heisperfect.Moonlightcastsoverhisstrongjawandsharpcheekbones,sketchingoutaprofilethatshouldbecapturedbydaVinci.Iriseupontomytoesandkisshisfulllips.Herespondswithpatience.It’ssosoftandtender.Myhipisgrasped.Islidemyhandsunderthelapelsofhistuxandup,up,uphisstrongchestuntiltheyclaspinthesofthairatthenapeofhisneck.
I’mpulledintight,pressedintohimandgraspedasifhe’splanningtoneverreleaseme.I’llliveinhisembracefromnowon.Ourmouthsexplore.Hishandsplaysoutfirmlyatmyback,andtheothercomesuptomyneck.Ourlipsdance:soft,firm,backandforth.
MysensestiplikeacanoegoingoverawaterfallasNathan’smouthtrailsdownmynecktomycollarbone.Histonguelightlytastesmyskin,andhegroansinpleasure.Thisisit.Mine,mine,mine,myheartsaysnow.Ipushhistuxjacketoffofhisshouldersandfeelthetautmusclebeneathhisshirt.I’mshaking.Mystomachistight.Ineedhim.Hehelpsmewiththebuttons,andthenit’stossedaside.
Ihovermyhandsinfrontofhisbody,andhegrins.Itrytobreathe,butsomeonehassatonmylungs.Hechuckles,andimpatiencefinallyovertakeshim.Hegrabsmyhandsandpressesthemfirmlyonhischest.SkinWarm.Firm.Stillgraspingmywrists,hetugsmewithhimtowardthebed.Hesits,lettingmestand.Thosebighandsgotorestbehindhimonthebed,proppinghimup.
“Youlead,”hesayssoftly,handingmeallthepower.
IwishmorethananythingIdidn’tfeeltimidrightnow.IwishIcouldshowhimhowsexyIcanbe.Powerful.Notthistremblinggirlstandinghereinherfancygown.Butwhenmyeyesglideupandmeethiseyes,Iseeonlytenderadoration.HewantsmeasIam—alwaysandforever.
AsIstepforwardbetweenhislegs,thefabricofmyskirtbrushesagainsthispants.It’sjetblackagainstpurewhite.Amooninthenightsky.Awhitepagespeckledwithink.Starklydifferent,buttogether,aperfectcomplement.
Irunmyfingeracrosshiscollarbone.Downhisarm.Overhisfingers.Theyflex,andIrepeatontheoppositeside.Hisentirebodyresponds.ThosemusclesbunchandIpaintmyfingersdownhisabs.Theyare…glorious.There’safaintbruiseformingonthesideofhisbicepfromwhenhegottackledinthegame.Ibenddownandpressmylipstoit.Heatswirlsinmystomach.Firecracklesinmyheart.Nathantakesmyhipsandpullsmeontohislap
Westareintoeachother’seyes,andsilencestretchesinthemostcomfortable,softcocoon.Hepushesawispofmyhairbehindmyear,andIshiver.
“I’velovedyouforsolong,”hesaysquietly,asiftohimself.“You’rereallyhererightnow?”
Ileaninandlaywarmkissesuphisnecktohisjaw.HeholdsmelikeI’mspunglass.Iwillbreakifhesqueezestootight.“We’rebothdreaming,”Isayagainsthisvelvetskin.
“Thoughtso.”
Heturnshisfaceandcatchesmymouth.Thistime,it’snotsuchaquietkiss.Hislipsareardent.Histongueexploring.Hisheartisahammer.It’sgoingtobreakthroughhischestandattackme.
Thosehandsgripmywaistagain,andheeasilyliftsmeoffhislap.Istandbesidethebed,andhespinsmeawayfromhim.Ifeelhisfingersatmyback,workingthetinybuttons.Iimaginewhattheylooklikebetweenhisbigfingersandthumbs.Likeagiantreachingintotheskyandrearrangingstars.
Witheverybuttonthatpopsopen,Nathantradesitforakissagainsteverynewlyfreedinchofskin.Romancecurlsaroundus.Itwindsthroughmyboneslikeatautstringandconnectstohistouch.HekissesmelikeI’mhallowed.Ihearhisbreathtremble,andIknowhe’sfeelingtheweightinessofthismomenttoo.Thispressurebuilding,thisintensitywe’vebeencarryingsincethatdayonthehighschooltrackallthoseyearsago.It’sallbeenbuildingtothis.Us.
Pop,pop,pop.Kiss.Kiss.Kiss.
“Iwillcherishyouuntilmylastbreath,”hewhispersagainstmybareshoulder,andthesoundofmydressfallingislikewindthroughlusciousgreentrees.
Hisarmsslidearoundmywaist,andhepullsmebackagainsthischest.Skintoskin.Holyandsacred.Itipmyheadback,andhekissesmythroat.
“Mybeautiful,lovely,wife.”
Wespendhoursinourownworld.Ourlovestorytangible.Ourhopesbared.Oursoulslight.Ourfearssetasideforthisbriefmomentintimewherenothingcantouchus.Inthisplace—inthosearms—Iamsafeandfree.Iopenmyarmsanddanceintherain.Itwirlinthecurrent.Iliebackinthemeadowasdarkeyessparkleaboveme.Thenextmorning,whileNathanandIarestillsnugglingunderagiantfluffycomforterandcompletelyunwillingtoleavethebed,hestrokeshishandacrossmyhairandmumbles,“Bree.Ihaveaconfession.”
I’mstillinhappyla-laland,sohecouldtellmehe’sanaxmurdererandI’dstillprobablyjusthum.That’snice,honey.
HechucklesandtwistsmearoundsoI’mfacinghim.“I’mserious.IthinkImighthaveaccidentallytrickedyouintomarryingme.Iforgottotellyousomethingreallyimportantbeforewesaid‘Ido.’”
Fine.Justruinmyhappyvibes,whydon’tyou?
“Okay,justsayit!”
Heshutshiseyesandinhales.“It’smorelikesomethingIhavetoshowyou.”
Igivehimasultrylook.“Nathan.I’vealreadyseeneverything.”
Hegruntsalaughandrollshiseyesbeforereachingtowardthebedsidetabletoretrievehiswallet.Hesitsuptoresthisbackagainsttheheadboardandstartstuggingmebymyarmpitstosituptoo.
“Okay,okay,I’mcoming!Sheesh.”
Themanisseriousaboutwhateverthisis.Fromhiswallet,Nathanpullsoutafoldedsheetofpaperandhandsittome.Henodsformetotakeit.ThisisfeelingliketheShoeboxofPotentialHorroralloveragain.
Iunfolditandfindanitemizedlistofsortswithlotsofscribblesinthemargins.Someitems,likefoodfight,haveanXbesidethem,andothers,suchasfootrub,haveacheckmark.Nathanlookspreparedformetothrowmyweddingringinhisface.
“WhatamIlookingat?”Iask,notfeelingnearlyasmurderousasheseemstosuspectIshould.
“It’s…aromancecheatsheet.Theguyshelpedmemakeitwhenwefirstagreedtofakedate.Itwastohelpmegetoutofthefriendzone.”
Ishiftmyeyesfromhispainedlookbacktothepaperandreaditwithenlightenedrealization.Whilereadingthelist,somanymemoriesstickouttome.Dancinginmyoffice.TheStarburstlog.Thestoppedelevator
“Bree,I’msosorry!Ifullymeanttoshowyouthiswhenyoufirstcameintothechapellastnight,butafterIsawyou,itcompletelyslippedmymind.”He’sbabblingandrunninghishandsthroughhishair.“Areyouupset?Doyoufeelbetrayed?”
Istareathimslack-jawed.Mainlybecausehisbicepisreallyspectacularwhenherunshishandthroughhishair.
“Ican’tbelieveyou,”Isay,myvoicehardasgranite.
Hefrownsandsighs.“Iknow.Itwaswrong.”
“Itwas…”Itwistandleanineyetoeyewithhim.“Conniving.”FearcolorshiseyesuntilIdropmymouthtohisneck.“Underhanded.”Anotherkiss.“Desperate.”Hehums,catchingonaftermynextkiss.“Sweet.”
“Soyou’renotmad?”hesaysinaraspyvoiceasIdraghimbackdownintoourcomfortercocoonoflove.
“Endearing.”
“Someofthesethingsweretrulyawfulideas.”He’stryingtopointtoitemsonthislistnow,butI’mnotinterested.
“Romantic.”
“Okay,soIguesswe’redonewithitsinceyoujusttosseditacrosstheroomlikethat?”
“Sexy.”
Nowhe’skissingme.
“Soyouforgiveme?”heasksagainstmyskin.
“Yes,butonlyontheconditionthatyouapplythesameamountofdedicationtoromancefortherestofourmarriage.”
Hegetsadevioussparkinhiseyeswhenheresponds,“Deal.”
THEENDDearReader
ThankyouforreadingtheCheatSheet!IhopeyouloveditasmuchasIlovedwritingit!Ifyouwanttostayintheknowaboutmyupcomingreleasesandspecialbehind-the-scenessnippets,signupformynewsletter,orfollowmeonInstagram!
Also,ifyoulovedBreeandNathan’sstory,pleaseconsiderleavingareview!Hugs!
-SarahAlsobySarahAdams
ItHappenedinCharlestonDuology(Sweet/Clean):
TheMatch:ARomanticComedy(book1)
TheEnemy:AromanticComedy(book2)
ItHappenedinNashvilleDuology(Closed-door):
TheOffLimitsRule(book1)
TheTemporaryRoomie(book2)
StandaloneRomcoms(Closed-door):
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HistoricalRomances(Sweet/Clean):
ToConAGentleman
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SeeingMary:AShortStoryAbouttheAuthor
Sarahisanindecisiveintrovert,amomoftwodaughters,marriedtoherbestfriend,andlikessnacksbetterthanmeals.Herhopeistoalwayswritestoriesthatmakeyoulaugh,maybeevencry;butalwaysleaveyouhappierthanwhenyoustartedreading.
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