“Yes.”
“I nearly burst into flames just watching you. I thought he was going to drag you into a closet and give you a special present.” She winks.
“Nora.”
She grins proudly. “Just calling it how I see it.”
“He is an incredible kisser. I got carried away.”
“I bet he’s good at other things, too. You should find out.” Hearing the words I’ve been thinking spoken out loud by someone else panics me.
“Don’t make more out of this than there needs to be,” I warn her.
“Are you sure you’re not making enough of it?” She throws the words back at me like we’re playing a ping-pong game.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” I move past her to the boxes, unstacking them to keep my hands busy and her gaze off me.
“So, we’re pretending that this whole scenario won’t backfire?” She nods. “Alright then.”
“Why would it?” I ask against my better judgment.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Snorting, she moves across to the large silver trays on the counter.
“I suppose you think you have a better suggestion?” I open a box and hand her the prepackaged sugar cookies shaped like bells and trees.
“Instead of being stubborn, you could use this time to answer the what-ifs I know you’ve had from time to time.” Her crystalline gaze bores a hole straight into my soul.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Why?” Nora doubles down, refusing to let the subject drop.
“Because it could blow up in our face, and leave a crater behind in my heart that I can never fill in.” I close my eyes and grip the edge of the counter.
“And you don’t think that means something?” She nudges my side.
“Drop it, please.” My voice quavers and my chest grows tight.
“Not when I believe you’re making a mistake you’ll regret later.”
“And what about you?” I slap my hands on the table.
“What about me?” Nora counters, stiffening.
I huff. “I’m not the only one carrying a flame for a friend.”
She gasps. “That’s a low blow.”
“If you can’t stand the heat.” I lift my chin.
“It’s different. Bryan is a playboy. The last thing he wants to do is settle down. He’s said so himself a million times.”
Her face grows pinched.
“That’s in reference to some other imaginary person, not you. His best friend.”
“Stop it. We’re talking about you, not me and Bryan,” her voice raises.
“Doesn’t feel good to be put on the spot, does it?”