Chapter Twenty-one
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TOBIAS
I can’t remember the last time I slept on a couch, let alone on a sofa with another person.
Natalie is lying directly on top of me, her head just barely touching my chin as she sleeps soundly.
Fuck.
We almost kissed yesterday. We almost kissed last night. Hell, I told her I wanted to kiss her and more, and she said she wanted that too.
But she’s the smart one and reminded me of the consequences. Kissing your best friend doesn't always work out the way you want it to, but every once in a while, it’s the perfect match. I wanted to argue that that could be us, but her voice was so soft and full of worry when she said she didn’t want to lose me. The reality of our situation came crashing down, and there is no way I can guarantee things will work for us.
Natalie and I will be just friends.
Even as I say it, the words hurt my heart.
This, right here. I look down at her small nose and her beautiful long, thick lashes. This woman is so much more to me than a friend.
Fuck. What am I going to do?
The front door shuts with a loud bang, followed by a dammit .
Natalie stirs, lifting her head as we both look over the side of the couch to see my sister sneaking in, carrying her shoes.
“What the hell, Quinn? Are you just coming home?”
She freezes, eyes wide.
Natalie pushes off me so that we can sit up, but it’s cold without her.
Just when I think I have no idea how to navigate the women in my life, Grandma Betty walks in, whistling.
“Morning, kids,” she says with a big smile, walking right past us to the kitchen.
Quinn laughs and points. “Oh, sounds like someone?—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” I whisper-shout as Natalie slaps my arms with laughter.
Quinn rolls her eyes and goes up to her room.
“You do know they’re both grown women, right?” Natalie asks, pulling the blanket we’d been using to her chin and leaning against my shoulder.
“I do. It doesn't make me worry about them any less.”
“Mm,” she hums, “You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?”
I lean down to kiss the top of her head.
“I am.”
But clearly not enough to take a chance on.
* * *
“I expect the two of you to be at the bake-off later. I reserved a table for you,” Grandma Betty says as I come down the stairs fresh from my shower. Natalie is sitting at the table in a long dusty pink skirt and a black top cropped at the waist.
She’s trying to kill me, isn’t she?
Her hair is pulled into a loose bun as she listens to my grandmother give us orders.
“I also expect you two to actually sleep in a bed tonight. That couch will destroy your back in the blink of an eye.”
“We’ll be sure to sleep in the bed tonight,” I assure her, finally pulling my gaze off Nat to pour myself a glass of water.
“It starts at one.” Grandma Betty points her finger at me. “I expect lots of baked goods when I get home tomorrow morning.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Calm down, sweetheart. I’m just staying with Mike until you kids go home, and do not take that as any hint that I want you to leave earlier than planned.”
She hugs me, and as much as I want to grumble again about this Mike thing, I can see he makes her happy, and she deserves it.
“We won’t, and lots of baked goods you shall have.”
“Edible ones,” she adds quickly, making Natalie laugh and again causing me to focus only on her.
I want to walk over there and kiss her and tell her how beautiful she is, but I’m not sure how much would be too much.
“I’ll be back later,” Grandma Betty says, heading down the hall and out the front door.
I peek through the doorway for Quinn.
“Your sister is meeting friends for lunch,” Natalie says.
She crosses her legs, her flowing skirt shifting, revealing a sliver of her legs.
I steal my glance from them to look her in the eyes. “You look beautiful today.”
She bites her lip. “Thank you.”
Then we just stare at each other; the tension between us is just begging to be broken.
“So—”
“So—”
We both laugh.
“You go first,” I say.
She stands and walks toward me, her shirt short enough to show her tiny torso.
I inhale slowly.
“Did we make this weird by what we said last night?” she asks. “Us.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Then why are you acing weird?”
I let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I’m not trying to be, but I can’t just turn off?—”
“The attraction.”
“Yes.”
“Me either.”
She leans onto the counter next to me. We’re side to side, both leaning back, looking anywhere but at each other.
“What if we made rules?” she suggests.
“Rules? Give me an example.”
“Okay, um, you can’t kiss me on the head anymore.”
“What, why?”
“Because it makes me … I like it too much. So, it’s not allowed.”
I huff. “Then you can’t bite your bottom lip in front of me anymore.”
“I don’t even know that I do that.”
“Well, work on it.” I push off the counter so I can lean on the table, which is farther away but still lets me face her for this discussion. “What else?” I ask and cross my arms.
She points at me. “That. You can't do that anymore.”
I glance down at my crossed ankles and arms and then back up at her.
“What am I doing?”
“Smirking.”
I quickly cover my mouth to hide the smirk that wants to escape.
God, she’s fucking cute.
“Yeah, okay,” I say and move toward her. Staying away is impossible right now. “You can’t wear crop tops anymore.”
She gasps. “You can’t wear jeans.”
“You can’t wear skirts that show your thighs when you sit down.” I touch her skirt as I approach her.
“You can’t wear shirts that hug your biceps and make me want to?—”
She stops, her eyes staring right at my arms.
“Make you what, Natalie?”
“Nothing.” She takes a breath and shakes her head, stepping around me. I turn to ask her where she’s headed, but she’s quicker than I thought and disappears up the stairs.
I blow out a breath.
Well … good luck to us both.