I find my keys at the bottom of my gym bag, and rush out the door. Since I have no time—or the patience—to wait for the slow-ass elevator to arrive, I take the stairs three at a time, and nearly tumble down the last flight when my foot goes out from beneath me. Damn slippery floors! Rain falls heavily as I push through the lobby door, soaking me to my skin as I race for my car. I climb inside and turn on the heat. Dammit, in my hurry, I forgot to grab my coat. I’ve only been in Seattle for a year, moving here to be closer to my best friend after he signed a contract with the Shooters, and I’m still not used to the weather. I jack the heat higher and back out into the street. Ten minutes later, I pull in to Luke’s spare parking spot outside his apartment building.
I jump from the car and hurry inside the building. I press his button and he buzzes me up. I take his elevator to the penthouse suite and his door is open, welcoming me. For some reason, that always brings a smile to my face. It falls quickly when I remember why I’m here.
“Luke,” I say and enter his place to find him standing by his window, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers.
“Hey,” he s
ays and taps his bottle against his leg. Worried eyes rake over me, take in my drenched, see-through blouse. “You’re soaked.”
“Way to state the obvious.” I pull my wet shirt from my skin and as it makes a sucking noise, I shiver from the cold. “What the hell happened?”
“You read Kari’s blog, I take it.”
I nod. “Why does she need time to think about things? You’re the best thing that has ever happened to that girl. Why is she getting cold feet now?”
He opens his mouth like he wants to tell me something, but shuts it again. What the hell? What is it he doesn’t want to say? We’ve always been honest with each other. “What?” I ask.
He produces two e-tickets from his back pocket. “Want to go on my honeymoon with me?” He laughs, but it holds no humor. The poor guy is really hurting. I glance at the tickets as he tosses them onto his coffee table.
He’s joking about me going, I know, but maybe getting away from here, from the rumors that are sure to spread, will do him good. As the cold rain seeps under my skin and chills me to the bones, I bend to read the e-tickets.
“You need to get out of those clothes.” His voice sounds tortured and once again my heart goes out to him.
“You’re right.” I pop the buttons on my blouse. “I was in such a hurry, I forgot my coat, and my umbrella broke in the last wind storm.” Then again, I’m used to being wet since I moved to Seattle from Texas. I peel my blouse from my shoulders, and reach for the button on my jeans.
“You didn’t have to rush over here. I’m fine.”
“You just got dumped the night before your wedding. Of course, I had to rush over here. You need me.” I wiggle my hips, but the damn wet jeans won’t budge. “They’re stuck to me.” I shoot him a pleading glance. “Can you help?” He scrubs his chin and I wiggle some more.
“Here,” he says and goes to his knees before me. I grip his shoulder to hang on as he tugs. I move my hips and try to help. “Stay still,” he grumbles. “This is hard enough as it is.”
He’s not normally grumpy with me, but I can understand his irritability. He must be devastated by the turn of events. He finally gets my pants to my ankles, and I lift one foot then the other.
“Much better,” I say, as he gathers my clothes and takes them to the dryer.
“I’ll get you a towel.” He disappears down the hall and comes back with a big fluffy towel. “Here.”
He tosses it to me, and doesn’t bother to avert his gaze as I dry my body. I rub my hair before bending forward, sticking my ass in the air as I twirl the cotton around the wet strands. My eyes go back to his, take in the way he’s looking at my near nudity. Seeing each other naked is nothing new. When I first moved to Seattle, I shared this place with Luke and he walked in on me a time or two when I was changing. When he had emergency appendectomy at Arizona State, I flew out to take care of him. I even helped him wash, and changed his clothes. It was impossible not to see him naked. But none of that matters because we don’t look at each other with interest, or inappropriate thoughts. No, we’re friends, best friends, and we don’t think about each other as anything other than that.
Not that he would look at me like I was a woman, anyway. I’m sure he still sees me as that chubby girl from the playground. I might have lost the weight, but I’ll never be as lithe or paper-thin as Arianna, or any of the other girls he’s been with over the years. I’m far from his type, but that’s okay, though. I’m happy with who I am, and it would be weird if Luke stopped treating me like one of the guys. I actually like being one of the guys, and always preferred climbing trees to playing with dolls.
“I’ll get you a shirt,” he says.
“Just give me yours.” I love wearing his clothes, love the way they smell after they’ve been on his body.
He tugs it off, and I pull it on, breathing in his scent. I plant my hands on my hips and glance around his suite. Okay, what can I do to cheer up my best friend? “Want to get drunk, and have a Die Hard marathon?” I ask.
He laughs. “No.”
I pick up the e-tickets, look them over again and check out the destination. Cortina d’Ampezzo, Italy. “I get that you were kidding, but maybe we shouldn’t let these tickets go to waste.”
He angles his head, a smile playing with the corners of his mouth. Dammit, he doesn’t need to fake a smile with me, doesn’t need to hide the pain of his breakup.
“You want to go on my honeymoon with me, Katee?”
“To be honest, I’d rather go to Bali.” I shake my head. “Who the hell would choose skiing on the slopes over a bikini on the beach?”
“Not me.”