7. Friend-Zoned
SEVEN
friend-zoned
Jacob has been breathing down my neck all morning, literally following me around the apartment grilling me on all things Brianna, while shoving Doritos into his mouth, one after another. He’s asking questions I don’t know the answer to, nor do I want to even think about right before I do what I’m about to do.
“Bro, don’t you think this is moving kind of fast?” Jacob asks. He sits on the chair in my room, watching as I throw all my clothes into boxes scattered on the floor. He’s dropping chips almost as fast as he’s eating them.
After today, I won’t have to clean up his mess.
“Maybe.” I answer without looking at him. If Brianna and I were actually dating, I’d agree one hundred percent that things are moving too fast. But we’re not, so I don’t. But I can’t tell him that.
Nondisclosure agreement.
Although, I’m pretty confident Jacob would keep our secret. Contrary to his current behavior, he’s never been a gossip. I don’t want to screw things up for Brianna, though, so I go along with the plan.
“Maybe?” He shakes his head, shoving more chips into his mouth. “More like absolutely, but whatever, man. I guess your second brain is doing all the thinking for this one.” He scoffs.
He’s one to talk about using his second brain. The number of starlets he’s bedded is obscene.
I take a gulp of my protein shake, trying to keep myself from arguing with him. Of course, I’m not thinking with my dick as he’s insinuating. This is a business deal. I may have given in to some of my attraction yesterday, but that has nothing to do with us moving in together. Jacob can’t know that though. I’ll let him think I’m lusting for the pop star. Which I’m not. Not really. Well, yeah, a little bit ...
Fuck me, I totally am.
“I’ll pay rent until you find a new roommate,” I offer, trying to soften the blow of my sudden departure. I told him last night, completely blindsiding him. He was so exhausted from working a double shift that he barely registered I’d told him Brianna and I were a thing.
But this morning is a different story.
“Tell me again how this all happened. I mean, she could literally have anyone, so how in the hell did you score that?”
I hate his question. Hate it , and the implication he’s making. Especially knowing that’s what all of Hollywood will be thinking when they see me with her . But it’s Jacob asking it that pisses me off the most.
“Not much to tell. We met, there was a spark, we got to know each other better, and then stuff happened. I don’t know. It just feels right.” I get a sick feeling in my stomach as I talk, because the part that’s messing with me the most is that nothing I said was a lie. All of that happened—at least on my part.
I’m screwed.
“Okay, yeah, I bet you two just hit it off and you’re exactly her type. Sure. But listen, I’m not gonna go looking for a new roommate right away. Just in case, you know? This thing could blow up in your face as fast as it started. Boom.” Jacob makes a fist then pops his fingers open, emphasizing the explosion in my future. Then he palms a handful of orange chips, shoving them into his mouth and chomping down loudly as he stares at me pointedly, never losing eye contact.
If I weren’t so torn up about the way I’m leaving, I’d laugh. Instead I just shake my head and return to my packing.
“Okay, I guess that’s fine. I’ll pay for however long you need me to.” It’s the least I can do for leaving so suddenly. And I don’t want to admit he’s right, but he is. This thing could go sideways pretty fast, and then I’d be shit out of luck.
“Damn straight.” Jacob looks down as he asks, “So, is she picking you up, or ...?”
It’s my turn to scoff. Fishing to meet the pop star? After the way he just lit me up over falling for her—or fake falling for her, I guess—it’s pretty humorous he still wants to meet her.
“Nope,” I say, looking away from him. “I’m taking my truck and driving myself.”
His mouth falls open. “You have her address?”
“Well, yeah. It’s kind of my address now too, so of course I have it.” I shrug.
“Dude! You’re so casual about this, like it was just some girl. It’s Brianna freaking Royce!” He shakes his head yet again. “You’re ’bout to get your heart stomped on, man.”
“Yeah, thanks for the ego boost. Appreciate it. Now help me get these boxes in my truck.” I lift the closest box to me and start to carry it out.
“Fine, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Nice parting words, man. You’re batting a thousand right now.” My back is to Jacob, but I can tell he’s grabbed a box as he follows me. “Don’t expect an invite over there anytime soon.”
He sucks in a deep breath. “You really know how to hurt a guy.”
I park my truck at the top of a steep driveway, exactly where Char said I should. Hopefully, my emergency brake still functions, otherwise my truck will have an untimely end with the tree on the other side of the street.
Brianna’s house sits up in the Hollywood Hills, exactly where you’d think a star would live, surrounded by other massive homes, among trees and million-dollar views of the city below.But it’s the view of Brianna’s house in front of me that has my attention now.
There’s a wide set of stairs leading from the street directly to her front door. The modern concrete-and-glass build has unusual angles set on a few different levels, none of them lining up perfectly, as though the architect intended for the house to mold to the hill where it’s built. Glancing up, I can almost see what looks like a rooftop deck, but I can’t be sure from my vantage point. Pretty soon I’ll find out for myself, I guess.
Last night, I retreated to my room and sat for hours with my jumble of thoughts about the situation I’ve landed in. I still wonder if I should be doing this. The sense I don’t belong here is eating at me. I could probably back out if I really wanted to, but is that fair to Brianna? The whole reason I agreed to this deal was to help her out; to keep the fear in her eyes from consuming her.
I still want to help, and if this is how I can, it’s what I’ll do.
But I have to get my shit under control first. Once we kissed, my emotions went off the rails. Hell, they went offtrack the second she took those sunglasses off when I met her. Even now I can still feel the tingles from her gentle touch as she kissed me; from the way she looked into my eyes.
And it’s thoughts like that—the ones that lead towhat-ifs—I need to get under control. It’s simple, really. I need to get her back in the friend zone immediately. I need to see her as a buddy, a little sister, something other than how I’ve started to see her.
That’s my plan.
As I ring her doorbell, I keep reminding myself of the friend-zone plan. And again when she opens the door and I see the smile on her face—the one I worked so damn hard to make happen. I repeat the plan silently when I hear her voice.
“Hey! Welcome home!”
Her voice is like bells. Paired with her smile, I’m fucking toast. This is going to be harder than I thought.
“Hey. I hope I’m not too early.”
I didn’t call before I left my apartment, not ready to have a phone conversation with her until I got that friend zone all squared away, because her voice is as alluring as her smile. Based on my reaction to hearing her now, I did a shit job of putting her in the friend zone.
Brianna steps back and opens the door further, letting me in. “Nope, not too early at all. Although I was expecting that date first.” There’s a tease in her voice, but something tells me she actually wanted to go out.
“Char nixed it immediately when I told her.” I rub the back of my neck. “She really wants this on the down-low until the premiere.” I feel terrible, but it’s out of my hands. And truthfully, it’s probably for the best, considering my most recent plan went to shit before it even started. I shouldn’t take her out at all until the friend zone is fully established.
Brianna shrugs. “Figures. Anyway, let me give you a tour and show you to your room.” Her smile is back—the one she reserves for when the fear is long gone.
“Lead the way.”
I follow her into the main area of the house, and I have to say, I’m impressed. Just like her office building, Brianna’s house has massive windows overlooking the valley. Although I can’t see the Hollywood sign from here, it’s still an impressive view. The modern furnishings match the style of the house. She’s decorated it with a mixture of pink and white, and the high ceilings and green plants dotted around the room give it some life. Even with the impersonal modern architecture, she’s created a warm living space here.
“Living room, obviously,” she says as we pass through. “I don’t spend enough time in here.”
Her words come out as an afterthought, not a statement, and like her comment about horseback riding the first day we met, it makes me sad.
Brianna keeps walking toward an open kitchen—so open it’s almost part of the living room. “I love the kitchen, but I really can’t cook, so I’m hardly in here either.”
“You can’t cook? Like, at all?” I almost laugh at her declaration as I arrive in her massive kitchen. It’s a cook’s dream come true, with modern appliances and top-of-the-line everything under the sun. My mom would die a little if she saw it.
“Nope. I can burn toast and heat up frozen food in the microwave. That’s about it.”
“Hmm. I guess I’ll have to put this kitchen to the test then,” I say, scanning the room and wondering what I should make first. Being the youngest in a family of eight, I learned my way around a kitchen. I had to if I wanted to eat.
When I finally return my gaze to her, Brianna eyes are right on me. I definitely don’t see a friend-zone look staring back. Her eyes are warm, inviting. Her smile is soft, with pink tinging her cheeks. My heart picks up a little, reminding me of our kiss just yesterday. I swallow hard, attempting to shut my heart up.
I don’t say anything else, not wanting to push things further than I already have.
Brianna turns to continue the tour. We head down a hallway filled with paintings in various styles, all predominantly pink. She stops at the end of the hallway in front of three doors—one on the left, one on the right, and a set of double doors directly in front of us. She turns to face me, gesturing to the door on my right.
“This will be your room,” she says after clearing her throat. She points to the double doors. “That’s mine.” She swallows. “There’s a large guest suite downstairs, but ...” She coughs. “I didn’t want to be alone on this level.” Pause. “I hope that’s okay. I mean, you could take the suite if you’d rather.” She looks down. “I’d understand.”
She’s nervous, and I get why. I’ve noticed a change in Bree every single time I’m close to her. She opens up. She smiles. She looks happy. I want that for her.
Without another word, I step up to the door to my room and turn the knob. When I peek inside, my jaw practically drops. It’s amazing. Not a lick of pink in sight, although I don’t think I’d mind if there were.
A large bed framed in dark wood sits in the center of the room. The blue and dark gray of the bedding, the walls, and the window covering have a masculine vibe. Another modern painting in matching tones hangs behind the bed. There’s even a huge TV hanging on one wall, way bigger than the TV Jacob and I shared. Not that I watch TV much. I think I even see a video-game console on the desk. I’ve never been a gamer, but maybe I’ll start.
“Dang, this room is twice as big as the one I had at the apartment.” I look back at her and smile. “Perfect.”
Her smile shines at me—the big one. The one I’ve been waiting for.
The one I’ve finally earned.