Page 51 of The Cheat Sheet

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Nathan is still laughing at me during the elevator ride up to his apartment. He’s been chuckling ever since we left the party, and any time I think he’s going to speak, I hold my finger up at him. Don’t you dare.

All in all, the poster shredding wasn’t that big of a deal. Nathan—the enigmatic, sexy, life of the party that he is—easily turned the whole situation around to be framed in an endearing light. He faced the crowd and let his voice carry across the room with one of his trademark smiles. “So…I think my girlfriend wants to box this one up and take it home—can we get a little help with that?”

Everyone exploded with laughter and I did a little stage bow, and somehow, that made us the hit of the event. Nathan and I even posed beside the torn photo, and when I posted it, I added a caption that read: If only Tide pens could wipe out embarrassing situations. It got four thousand likes in the first hour.

The whole night, we barely got a moment to ourselves because absolutely everyone and their mother wanted to speak with Nathan and wish him luck in the playoffs. I didn’t mind. It felt good to hold his hand and be introduced to so many people as his girlfriend. There was also something deeply satisfying about seeing Nathan give everyone his business smile. It never reaches his eyes, and only I would know that, because now, he’s giving me his smile. The one I’ve seen since high school.

Nathan rips his tie from his neck and loosens the top button of his shirt as we walk through the foyer of his apartme

nt. I kick off my heels and he tosses his coat and tie onto the entry table, and now it’s just us and the waves outside his window crashing onto the shore. I can breathe. A thrill trickles through me when I realize this time I’m the one walking through the door with Nathan after an event. Me. I was out with him in front of everyone, and…I loved it. Which is bad. Very bad.

How do I stuff this jack back in the box?

I freeze by the door, and Nathan keeps walking. It takes him a few seconds to realize I’m not with him anymore, and then he looks back over his shoulder with a fading smile. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, nothing much. Just having an internal freak-out because I’m realizing the full extent of how much I’ve wanted this life with you. No big deal.

“Nothing’s wrong.” My bare feet are backing up.

Nathan gives me a skeptical side glance. “Bree…”

My shoes are in the corner by the door, but I don’t have time to grab them. If I’m going to make a break for it, I’ve got to move fast. I turn around to bolt, but Nathan is on me in two seconds flat, taking my legs out from under me and scooping me up in his arms.

“No way. You’re not getting out of here that fast.” He carries me to the couch and deposits me on a cushion. He points a stern finger at me. “Stay. Nothing is different. We are completely normal.” Then he disappears into the kitchen to grab something.

The lights are still low when he returns, and I need someone to kick the high beams on because he looks too suave, too James Bondish in this romantic lighting with the dark ocean roaring in the background. And the way he looks at me, I feel like our friendship is a ticking time bomb. I just know I’m going to lose my best friend somehow.

Nathan’s shirt is untucked now and hanging loose. He stops right in front of me and tosses an unopened Starburst log into my lap. “I keep this for emergencies. I think this moment constitutes one.”

I smile down at my favorite candy, and my shoulders relax a little. How does he always know the exact right thing to do to take care of me?

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick. Please be here when I come back.” His words are gentle and sweet, and for some reason, this shifts my mind back to the feel of his lips against mine.

While Nathan is gone, I close my eyes and try to remember every detail, but it’s too hazy. Like a delicious dream you wake up from and feel slipping through your fingers. Did that kiss even happen? Nathan hasn’t mentioned it once, so it must not have meant much to him. But really, how could it? It lasted maybe two seconds.

It meant something to me.

Nathan comes back into the room just as I shove a pink square into my mouth. He looks incredible in his suit pants and loosened dress shirt. My mouth waters, but not from the candy.

He sits down on the far end of the couch and smiles. “Better?”

I nod and shift the soft taffy to my right cheek. I’m a chipmunk who hoards pink Starburst. “Better.”

“Do you want to watch some TV? Pick up where we left off in that comedy special?” He’s already reaching for the remote and my gaze snags on his exposed, muscled forearm. I’m hyperaware of him in ways I’ve never let myself dwell on before.

The TV turns on and a comedian spouts off a joke about pancakes. Then, as if nothing in the world is different, Nathan’s hand wraps around my bare foot and pivots my whole body so he can pull my feet into his lap. I stare with my mouth hanging loose as his thumbs push in and glide up my arches. His strong, calloused fingers knead my sore feet with expert care, even going so far as to dip past my ankle and press into my calves. For as hot as my skin feels, his hands are somehow hotter. Like stones, fresh from a fire and melting my skin away.

All I can do is stare, blink, savor. He’s touching me in an intimate way that has never happened as friends before. But for how much of a living, breathing hot tamale I am right now, Nathan is not even focusing on the life-changing massage he’s giving me. He’s watching the comedy special, loose-limbed and relaxed. Yeah, no big deal. Are we just those kinds of friends now? Friends who occasionally date? Friends who snuggle? Friends who…

“Nathan, we kissed tonight,” I blurt. Cool, Bree. Cool. Nice and smooth.

Nathan’s hands freeze on my skin, and his brows fly up. He pauses the TV then swivels his gaze to me. I kind of wish he’d left it going so it would fill the uncomfortable silence, but now we’re alone with my statement and it’s flicking us both between the eyes.

“I’m surprised you want to acknowledge it,” he says, confusing me with that answer.

“Do you not want to?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up. “I’ll talk about anything you want, anytime you want. We can even talk about how you destroyed my naked photo because you were so jealous of anyone else seeing it.”


Tags: Sarah Adams Romance