23. We’re Still Best Friends
Tatum
I can’t concentrate. I’ve been walking around downtown for almost twenty minutes now, trying to find some photography inspiration, but I just keep thinking about yesterday.
About me and Skye.
About our cake testing visit.
At first, I was worried that I took things too far by feeding her the cake and wiping that frosting off her mouth, but then she licked me! Her tongue touched my skin, and I couldn’t even think straight after that. I just remember wishing it had been my lips brushing against her lips instead of it being my thumb.
What would she have done though if I tried kissing her again?
I honestly don’t know. I mean, she didn’t bite my finger or snap at me for making her uncomfortable, so maybe it would’ve been okay?
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know .
Maybe I should get Dria’s opinion on this.
After all, pushing the limits of our friendship was initially her idea.
Then again, I feel like it would be awkward to confide in Dria about yesterday. Do I really want her knowing that Skye licked frosting off my finger? Heck to the freaking no.
Dang it.
As much as I hate to admit it, there’s only one person I should be confiding in about this, and her name is Skye Meredith Carson.
We’re supposed to be babysitting the twins tonight; I wonder if she wants to carpool. It’d give us the chance to talk about yesterday before we babysit. Or after we’re done babysitting, just in case I chicken out.
I go ahead and slip my camera into my leather bag for now, and then I pull my phone out instead.
Me: Hey, Pink Stuff. We carpooling tonight?
I know she’s at the office right now, but if Zoya catches her on the phone texting her fiancé , something tells me she won’t be too pressed about it.
Three dots dance on the screen, but then they disappear.
And reappear.
And disappear.
Reappear.
Disappear.
Until finally…
Skye: Yeah, we can.
Wow. Well, that was underwhelming.
Me: Okay, do you want me to pick you up?
Skye: No, you’re good. I can come get you.
Skye: Dria said to come by around five, so I’ll be at your place a little bit before then?
Is she mad at me? I can’t tell.
She wasn’t mad at me yesterday when we left the bakery. Sure, she acted like nothing different happened between us, but she wasn’t mad. We were choosing donut flavors for our fake donut wall and complaining about how many movie remakes are turning into musicals.
It was good. We were good.
My phone buzzes again.
Skye: Tate? You there?
Me: Yeah, sorry. That sounds fine.
Skye: Cool.
Skye: I gotta go, Zoya wants to hear some of my other blog post ideas, but I’ll see you later.
Hmm.
Maybe she isn’t mad then. Maybe she’s just distracted with work.
Speaking of work, pictures aren’t going to take themselves…
I managed to capture some new shots, including one of a little duck family, and then I reached out to a couple of potential clients before having a short session at the climbing gym. I almost did a grocery run since I’m due to pick up a few things, but tomorrow is Saturday. So, I’m just going to see if Skye wants to get groceries together. I’d much rather do errands with her than by myself.
The rest of my afternoon goes by quickly. Between photo editing, uploading more pictures to various stock image sites, and studying photography reference videos to keep my skills sharp, four forty-five comes sooner than later.
I shouldn’t be pacing my living room floor like I’m waiting to be picked up for a date, but here we are. Oh yeah, and did I mention that I changed shirts three times? I don’t know why, though, because it’s not like Skye is going to notice what shirt I’m wearing. This isn’t a date. This is babysitting. If I wasn’t wearing a shirt, she would probably notice, but we’re not going that route.
The doorbell rings just as I’m about to walk around the coffee table again.
She’s here.
Of course she’s here. She’s here to pick you up, just like she said she would .
I shuffle over to the door and take a deep breath before opening it.
There she is. Gorgeous as always.
“Well, the doorbell is still working,” she comments as I step out of the house, “that’s a good sign.”
“Yeah, asking Matt to fix it was the right move,” I drawl, closing the front door behind me. “Even if he only said like five sentences to me.”
“He is pretty quiet, unlike a certain curly-haired roommate of mine who’s always yapping about something.”
I lock the door. “They say opposites attract for a reason.”
“That only applies if the attraction is mutual.” She crosses her arms and raises any eyebrow at me. “Which it’s not , remember? Please don’t tell me you’re siding with Dria now about this whole Matt and Anna thing, Jacobs.”
“I’m not taking sides.” I spread my hands as an act of innocence. “I’m just saying that even though Matt doesn’t seem interested in Anna right now, that doesn’t mean he’ll never be interested in her. Sometimes people start seeing things differently when they least expect it.”
Am I hinting at our own situation?
Oh, absolutely.
I want Skye to know that it’s okay for us to be interested in each other.
It’s okay for us to see each other differently.
“Huh,” she says as we start walking toward her car, “when did you become such a romance expert?”
“Must be the fake engagement,” I muse, sneaking a glance at her. “I guess being a fiancé has heightened my romantic senses or something.”
She doesn’t reply.
She doesn’t even look at me.
She just keeps staring at the ground.
That’s not the reaction I was hoping for.
I decide to tease her. “Soooo, does this mean you don’t agree with me?”
“No,” she huffs, “I just—”
“Whoa!” I interrupt, grasping her arm before she collides with my mailbox. “Careful, Pink Stuff.”
She stumbles a little bit, so I snake my arm around her waist to keep her in place, and that’s when her wide eyes meet mine. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, of course.” I don’t move my arm. “You okay?”
Her gaze drops to my chest, and her eyebrows crease as if she’s frustrated by my question. Why is she frustrated? I just want to make sure that—
“I don’t know why I licked the frosting off your finger yesterday!” she blurts out, still avoiding eye contact with me. “I didn’t even think about it, ya know? I just…did it. But then you did that thing with my lip? And it was weird—”
“Hey,” I cut in gently, trying not to let my disappointment show, “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable yesterday. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m so sorry, Carson. What can I do to make it up to you? Just say the word and I’ll do it.”
“Tate…” She peeks up at me through her long lashes. “It was weird for me because I think I liked it. Maybe.”
Now I’m the one who stumbles. I stumble backward as I gape at my best friend.
“W-what?” I manage to ask. “Are you sure?”
“Maybe?” she repeats herself, fidgeting with the ends of her hair. “It’s just really confusing though! You said this fake engagement wasn’t going to mess up our friendship, but sometimes I don’t even know how to act around you anymore, and I hate feeling like that!”
Her voice cracks at the end of her exclamation, and so does a piece of my heart as I stare helplessly at her. “Skye, we’re still us, okay? We’re still best friends. Nothing has messed up our friendship.”
“We’re not the same, Tatum!” she snaps, rubbing the side of her forehead. “If we were the same as before, then I wouldn’t be checking you out or getting jealous because another girl was talking to you! And I definitely wouldn’t be thinking about a fake kiss that we both agreed shouldn’t have happened in the first place!”
Hearing her yell at me stings like heck, but I know she’s overwhelmed, and this is a lot to unpack, so I make sure to stay calm for the both of us.
“You’re right, we’re not the same. I know things are different between us.” I step forward and let my hands rest on her upper arms. “Believe me, I tried so freaking hard to fight it because I didn’t want to scare you.” A shaky laugh escapes as I brush my thumbs over her soft skin. “But, Skye…I stopped fighting it. I didn’t want to fight it anymore. Our friendship still means everything to me, but falling for you was inevitable.”
Saying the words out loud is like having a burden lifted off my shoulders, but the storm of emotions in Skye’s brown eyes and her resounding silence keep me from feeling completely relieved.
“Talk to me, Carson.” I give her a light squeeze. “You can keep yelling at me if you need to, but you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on in your mind right now.”
“I-I’m processing,” she replies in a quiet voice. “Or at least I’m trying to. So, you like me? Like, you like -like me?”
She’s so cute.
“Yeah,” I say, using one hand to tuck a few pink waves behind her ear, “I do.”
I mean, I more than like -like her, but I don’t want to use the L-word quite yet. Not when she’s this vulnerable and anxious.
“And you’re positive about this? That you actually like me?”
“I’m positive,” I tell her with a soft smile. “I know that I like you, Pink Stuff.”
She’s silent again as her eyes drift to the side.
“Hey,” I murmur, hooking my index finger under her chin to redirect her attention toward me, “don’t shut me out. Say whatever you need to say.”
“What if—” She proceeds to sigh. “What if I’m still not sure how I’m feeling?”