“Yes?” He arched his brows.
“I have a question.” My gaze dropped until I stared at the neck of his T-shirt.
“More questions?” He chuckled, a sound so familiar it should have comforted me. “Go for it.”
“The most important question is…is…” I blinked up at him. “Are we still friends?”
Nick’s hands fell away from my shoulders, and he took a step back. “Are you giving me the friends speech?”
“No…Yes…No…I need…I need…”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what you need.”
Another kiss?
I waited expectantly.
But he kept his distance. “You’re wondering about our friendship. You’re wondering if I’d been thinking about kissing you before this happened. You’re wondering if I liked kissing you. And…”
“And…”Can we get on with more kissing already?
“And I’m just going to say that our friendship is good. And yes, I’d thought about kissing you before today. And yes, I liked kissing you.”
I gripped the box of faux furs with stiff fingers. “But then what…”
“What does it mean for our friendship?” He tugged off his blue knit cap and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t know. I don’t suppose you know.” Nick glanced at me expectantly, hat in his hands.
My mouth dropped open, and nothing came out.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Because I know you, Al. You like to think things through and make plans. And when your plans don’t work out, you like to think the next thing through.”
I closed my mouth. He was right.
“And I’m sorry if I rushed things but you gave me two options and I chose option A.” He shrugged. “Maybe we should go sit on our bench when we finish here and let you think about it.”
I nodded numbly, knowing that I’d have no time today to talk about anything, much less let the dust settle between us.
Wednesday night danceclasses were a repeat of Monday’s sessions.
Which was good because I was so distracted by Nick’s kiss and our subsequent Q&A that I wouldn’t have done a good job as a substitute dance teacher.
I had the classes walk through their tap dances. We did drills to sharpen portions of the choreography. And then we went through their complete dances at speed twice.
After all the dancers had gone home, I locked up and was surprised to see Nick waiting for me in his truck. I walked toward him with slow steps, torn. I wanted to see him. I wanted to explore these feelings between us. But if I’d learned anything these past few days, it was that I cherished his friendship and his ability to understand me.
I opened the truck door, still uncertain what to say to him. Heat surrounded me, along with the last few notes ofHave Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
“I come bearing gifts as yourfriendNick.” He handed me a Halloran’s fast food bag. Beneath his jacket, he was wearing a red sweater decorated with white snowflakes. “You went non-stop all day and hardly ate anything.”
My stomach growled. I opened the bag and took a whiff of all that hot greasiness coming from a cheeseburger and sweet potato fries. “What? No milkshake?”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Nick handed me a cup with a straw. “Egg nog, of course.”
My stomach growled its approval.
While I ate, he drove around the block and parked on a darkened street across from Tinsel & Tonic, the small local bar.
I glanced from the bar to Nick. “Are we getting a stronger egg nog?”