Chapter 2
Summer
A loud grunt echoes in the hall as I follow its sound.
I was told that I’d find Eli back here, but I wasn’t given any warning as to what state of undress I’d find him in.
And damn—whew—it is hot in here.
Doing pull ups, Eli is hanging from a bar while sweat drips down his near naked body. He’s the kind of guy who apparently works out only in shorts. Short shorts. Tight short-shorts. The I-can-see-every-bulging-muscle-along-with-the-outline-of-his-dick shorts. I can’t take my eyes off of him. Where’s my camera when I need it? Is there any way to discreetly snap a shot of him in this state with my phone?
His pectoral muscles are rippling across his chest, and his biceps are huge. Daaaaaammmmmn. Why wouldn’t I date this guy? Right. Friends and dating doesn’t work.
With a final huff, he drops to the ground and grabs a towel to wipe his face. And his body. My eyes follow every movement.
“Summer?”
“Ya?”
“Did you just come here to gawk?” he chuckles at me with the playful smirk that’s usually decked out along his strong jaw.
“What? Pfffft. No.” Ya, that totally sounded chill.
“What’s up?”
Just be direct. That’s my motto. “I hear you don’t want to do the calendar.”
“Oh, that.”
“Ya. It’s for charity.”
“I know.” He turns his back to me and then—regrettably—he pulls a shirt over his body. But wait, yup, I can see his nipples along his perfectly formed muscles. This guy is ripped.
“Why do you want to do a calendar, anyway?”
“It’s just something to help out with the fundraising.”
“You know there are other ways to help, right? They’re doing an auction and a whole evening of events.”
“You do know I’m a photographer, right? It just seemed like a good fit.”
“I’m not interested in it.”
He’s not even looking at me right now. Which…well, is not great for a couple of reasons. One, it means he’s not paying attention to the topic at hand which is important. But two, he’s angled perfectly for me to ogle his ass.
What the hell is wrong with me? It’s not like this is the first time I’m seeing this guy. He’s been my close friend for the last few weeks. I’ve shown him respect in every conversation and not salivated over his body. Then I had to go and recklessly take that picture of him that will now forever live on in my fantasies.
No. I’m stronger than that.
Except my mind is a little fuzzy on the purpose of this visit.
So, it could be for several different reasons—none of them good—but I find myself vomiting the question, “Is it because you don’t think you’re hot?” Ya. Another super chill move by moi. But that wasn’t chill enough, so I add, “Because you are. Hot.”
Slowly he wheels around. “Summer, are you hitting on me?” He still has the cutest smirk on his face.
“N-no. It’s just a fact. And I’m wondering what the real reason is for you not wanting to be in the calendar.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Are you not photogenic?”
He shrugs.
“Because I can help with that. You wouldn’t even know the camera is there.”
Cocking an eyebrow, he steps toward me, and I don’t know why, but I take a step back as his deep voice rumbles over my skin. “So what you’re saying is, you think I’m hot and you want to get me in a seductive position basically without a camera, and you’re not hitting on me?”
Ya. Doesn’t sound great. Just keep going, Summer. “Is it because you don’t want to be objectified? Because I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that to you. You’re way more than just your looks.”
He’s stepping closer to me, and like the coward I am usually not, I keep backing away—bump! That’s the wall.
“So…I’m hot. You want me naked, and it’s for more than just my looks.” His smirk is not just cute, it’s annoyingly adorable now. “Sounds like you like me.”
We’re about a foot apart. His hands are braced against the wall on either side of head, and he’s leaning in.
“Ya. Well, you’re great.”
“You wanna go on a date?”
Nervous giggle.
“I’m serious.” Oh ya, those blue flamed eyes are definitely serious.
Shiiiiiiiit. This is—no, this is not good. How did I lead him here? I’d facepalm myself if I thought I could move my hands without grazing his body.
“I can’t go on a date with you, Eli.” His face falls just a smidgeon.
“Why not?”
“We’re friends.”
“Friends can date.” He sounds so sure of that little idea. Like he hasn’t been burned countless times in the past. Like he’s not jaded. Like he believes in the best kind of love still.
Idiot.
“Right. In TV shows and movies maybe. Not in real life.”
“They can date in real life, Summer.”
“No, they can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It just doesn’t work.”
“Not even one date?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Why not? Just tell me. I can handle your truth.”
I let out a long huff. We’ve shared openly up until now, so I may as well be honest with him. I have nothing to lose. “Fine. Here’s the thing. I’ve dated friends in the past, and it’s never worked. With four guys, I broke it off and they got made. And three other times the relationships turned toxic. Now, call me a slower learner—fine—but I’ve learned my lesson finally. I won’t ever date a friend again.”
“Eighth time’s the charm?”
“Sorry, Eli. I really don’t want to lose our friendship. It means too much to me.” Just the thought of him not being my friend deflates my heart. Like a tiny valve just opened and all the air is slowly seeping out. See? Already I have to protect myself.
He tucks his chin and sighs.
When he looks up at me, I feel the air charged between us, and his words have a contradictory mixture of heaviness and lightness. Like whipped cream. So light and fluffy but decidedly full of calories. “Sounds good. I don’t want to lose our friendship either.”
“Does that mean you’ll do the calendar?”
Unamused, he chuckles. “I do not follow that leap of logic.”
“Just um…” I nibble my bottom lip and feel his eyes pick up on the movement. “Just that you’re my friend and friends help each other.”
“Sure.”
He opens his mouth like he wants to say—or do—more, but then he pushes himself off the wall.
And I don’t know if I’m disappointed or relieved that he didn’t do what he was going to do. All I know is that I do feel like I need to curl up in a good blanket right now. Not sure what that means.
“Okay. See you tomorrow then. Be ready.”
“Yup.” But he’s off grabbing his water bottle. “I’m gonna do another set.”
A beat passes.
“What? You gonna watch?”
Oh ya. About that. C’mon feet, let’s go.
“Oh, no.” Fake chuckle. “See ya.”
Smooth. Real smooth, Summer. It’s super clear that you don’t want to date him and that you just want to ogle him. Since when? And um…when will these urges go away? Possibly when I photograph half-naked men all day tomorrow. Yup. That should do it.