Sixteen #3
‘Well, I obviously upset her last night, and I’m not real fond of that. And if I upset her some more, if she decides she’s had enough and leaves me in the dust . . . well, shit, Dani, I think I would just die.’
Eyes rolling, I dig my knee into the stomach pressed against it. ‘Little dramatic.’
‘You haven’t met this girl.’
‘She kinda sounds like a mess.’
‘No one’s perfect.’
I pinch the thin skin above his ankle bone. Cautiously, I roll onto my back because it’s a lot easier to talk to the sky than it is to him. ‘Maybe she’s scared.’
‘Oh, she definitely is.’
‘Maybe,’ I continue with a huff, ‘this girl doesn’t hook up often. Ever.’
‘She doesn’t.’
‘Do you wanna have this conversation by yourself? Since you know all the answers?’
Silence settles. An encouraging squeeze is bestowed upon my ankle.
‘Maybe you and her are already in a really complicated situation. Maybe she panicked a little, a lot, because . . . well, maybe things have been really good lately, but there’s an expiration date on these things, and she’s scared of getting in any deeper than she already has because she’s already pretty sure it’ll hurt like hell when it ends. ’
‘Just because it ends doesn’t mean it ends. Even if we’re not dating, Dani, we’ll still be friends.’
If, my brain vaguely catches, not when. ‘Really?’
‘You can’t honestly think that everything that’s happened in the past month has been for Ben’s benefit.’
‘Obviously not,’ I grumble, glowering. ‘For his detriment.’
‘Oh, silly, beautiful woman.’ Heath groans.
There’s a rasping sound as he rakes both hands over his head and down his face.
The hammock rocks again as he half sits up, just enough to loom over me.
‘Very little of what we do is because of Ben. Last night is at the top of that list, by the way, in case that crossed your mind.’
I look away, a little ashamed that it did. ‘We have a deal.’
‘Yeah, we do, but we also have a relationship. A friendship,’ he clarifies, almost like he’s correcting himself, like he needs the reminder. ‘I like being around you, Daniela. I like you. I’ve always liked you.’
My heart jumps. ‘What?’
At my disbelief, Heath shakes his head. ‘C’mon, Dani. You don’t think that, if it wasn’t for Ben, we would’ve been friends a long time ago?’
Just like that, I plummet back down to earth. Friends. Right. Silently, I laugh at myself for even briefly assuming anything different. ‘I’ve never thought about it.’
‘I have. A lot. And I think that we would’ve been,’ he hesitates for a split second, making me think that he was going to say something other than ‘best fucking friends’.
I can’t imagine it. Not because it’s so unimaginable – God, it’s almost too easy to imagine – but because it hurts. It’s fucking painful to think that if I’d just stayed single, my life might’ve been a little better. A little easier. A little friendlier. ‘Why?’
His smile is sweet enough to make my teeth hurt. ‘Because we are now, aren’t we?’
‘I mean,’ I somehow manage to correct around the sudden lump in my throat, ‘why do you like me?’
His face twists like the question baffles him. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘People don’t like me.’
‘People don’t get you.’
‘And you do?’
‘God, no.’ He smiles crookedly. ‘But I like the challenge.’
My gaze drops to his throat as a rough swallow scratches my own. ‘Is that what last night was? A challenge?’
‘No. Fuck, Dani, no.’
The raw panic fueling his denial makes my lips twitch. ‘So I’m easy.’
‘No—’ His vehement refusal comes up short. His eyes narrow, zone in on the subtle upward curve to my mouth. ‘You fucking with me?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Unlikeable, my ass.’ My ass, meanwhile, he almost freaking slaps, just missing it to catch the curve of my thigh instead.
‘Enough. You’re getting me off track. Last night—’ Long fingers wrap around my calf and squeeze.
‘It happened. I don’t think we should pretend it didn’t because it wasn’t a bad thing, okay?
We did nothing wrong, nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. We just had some fun.’
Fun. Right. Exactly. We did have fun. I had fun. I enjoyed it before my head got so involved. God, he makes it sound so easy. So normal. Which I guess it is. We’re hardly the first friends to ever hook up on a drunken night out, right? I’m probably not the first that he’s—
Nope. Not going there.
Following the stroke of a calloused thumb along my Achilles tendon, I rasp, ‘Yeah.’
‘It was . . .’ His movements stutter for a second as he clears his throat. ‘Good? For you?’
My cheeks flush as I nod.
‘Yeah?’
‘Jesus, do you need a fucking poem? You were there. You saw.’
I wait for his expression to turn smug. For that pure male satisfaction guys get when they manage to do the bare minimum.
Instead, I get the very opposite. Rosy cheeks and a lowered gaze and a hand that’s not quite steady as it drags over a shaved head, and a smile I wouldn’t dare to call shy, but, fuck, that’s kind of what it looks like. ‘Good,’ he croaks. ‘So we’re good?’
‘We’re good,’ I confirm, and I can’t actually believe that it’s the truth. Mostly. I definitely feel better.
A crooked pinky extends toward me. ‘Promise?’
Laughing, I hook my finger around his. ‘Promise.’