And I could see it. On her face. The worry. The pressure. The expectation.
I moved closer to her so our elbows touched. “No.”
“No?” She tilted her head.
Our eyes met.
“No,” I repeated. “I don’t care what they think. I think their betting pool is stupid and petty, and I am not surprised Brie threw her own bet in. She thought it’d take us until forty, remember?”
She nodded. “It’s hard enough, isn’t it? It’s not like we can just throw our friendship away. I’m worried that’s what will happen if we dive headfirst into this.”
“I’m worried we’ll lose it if we don’t.”
“Really?” She grabbed the edge of the pier, her knuckles going white.
“Yeah.” I turned sideways and rested my elbow on the cold surface. “Shelbs, I don’t care what they think. You’re my best friend. I think we can make a relationship work because of that.”
She met my eyes. “Doesn’t it make you feel weird that everyone has been betting for us?”
“A little, and I’m going to tell them exactly what I think of that.” I half-smiled. “But they can bet all they like. It doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is you. You’ve always been the person who matters the most. The way I feel about you now compared to two years ago is just semantics.”
“So you’re saying this is just an evolution of our feelings; an amplification of what was already there?”
“No. Two years I didn’t want to grab your face and kiss you every time I saw you. That’s a new development.” My half-smile became a whole one. “Maybe there was an underlying feeling for both of us. I don’t know. I’m not a psychologist. But I do know something.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s nobody I’d rather fuck up with than you.”
She laughed, dropping her head. Waves crashed against the pier, but when she didn’t move, I joined her, making it so she had to loop her arm through mine.
“You make me all kinds of happy, Shelbs. We don’t need to define what we are to each other right now.”
She took my hand, brushing her thumb over the back of my hand. “I’m thinking too much again, aren’t I? I know in my mind that this can work. It sounds so crazy when a week ago, telling you how I felt was the stupidest thing I could do. I’m starting to think that your mom getting me drunk had a purpose.”
“In her defense, it worked.”
“It really did.” She leaned into me, laughing. “I’m scared, Jay. I’m scared that the things you laugh at me about now will be annoying in a year. I’m afraid to lose your friendship, because that’s the most important thing ever. I wasn’t lying when I said I trust you—I do. I really do, more than anyone, and that goes for anything.”
“You won’t ever lose me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” I straightened, pulling her up with me.
She met my eyes. Bright lights from the rides and lights on the pier danced across her face, and I cupped her jaw with my hands. My thumbs brushed her cheeks as the lights did, illuminating everything from her downturned lips to her high cheekbones to the rich brown of her beautiful eyes.
“Listen to me.” I closed even more distance between us. “No matter how badly I tease you or we fight, you will never lose me. Your friendship is everything to me, no matter how I feel about you. I’ll take a broken heart over losing you. Just know this; no matter how we feel, no matter what happens, what we have is too strong to break. I’ll hound your ass until I die and then some.”
She turned her cheek into my hand, laughing softly. “I have fun with you, you know that? I never thought it would happen, but dating you has been so fun.”
“Brie and Sean left already. You wanna ride the teacups and get some cotton candy?”
She immediately brightened. “Are you kidding? Brie hates the teacups. They’re my jam.”
“Brie hates them because they move at the speed of her brain.” I linked my fingers through Shelby’s, pulling her after me. “And before you say it, cotton candy is the only thing I will accept that’s pure sugar.”
“Bitch, please.” Shelby snorted. “You put pure sugar in your coffee every morning!”
“Did you just call me a bitch?”
“In the nicest way possible.”
“There is no such thing.”
“Welcome to dating me. I use all my brain power when I write. Anything between the hours of eight p.m. and eleven a.m. is not subject to filtering.”
I glanced back at her. “Does that mean you can talk dirty then?”
“Why? Are you lacking in that department?” Her eyes sparkled, her lips curving. “Because I can recommend some books if you are.”
I tugged her into my side and wrapped an arm around her waist, anchoring her against me. “Not at all. I was just wondering if you partook in the activity.”