Chapter Ten
A greeing to spend the evening watching a romantic comedy about two longtime best friends falling for each other probably wasn’t the smartest move Nick had ever made. But he’d missed Em and had been desperate to spend some time with her.
Still, as he’d watched the movie—a favorite of Em’s for as long as he could remember—what had happened between them on the beach on New Year’s Eve loomed over them like a five-ton elephant squeezing his ass into the small space between them on Em’s sofa.
Nick could practically see the accusatory question on Em’s face.
Why can’t we be like Dre and Sid?
Nick groaned internally. The answer was simple. Because Dre and Sid weren’t real.
Sometimes he wished he could be as much of an optimist as his best friend was. She believed that both lasting love and eternal friendship were possible for them because she’d seen it in countless romantic comedies and read about it in books. But Nick couldn’t help thinking that if there had ever been a follow up to Brown Sugar , it would’ve been a drama about the reality of Dre and Sid discovering that they couldn’t truly be both best friends and life partners. That they’d lost the friendship to the relationship and maybe even that was on rocky ground as they tried to maintain it through the demands of intensely stressful, high-level jobs that required lots of travel while also trying to start a family. Because that would be the reality of the movie’s neatly packaged, tearjerker of a happy ending that currently had his best friend in a chokehold.
Nick glanced over at Em during the final scene, in which Dre appears at the radio station where Sid is being interviewed and declares, “I don’t wanna be your friend no more.”
Em was sniffling and gliding a finger beneath one eye, then the other. She usually did a better job of hiding the inevitable tears the scene always evoked. He usually played along, pretending he didn’t notice and offering to grab them both a beer. But this time, he couldn’t.
“You might be a killer at the billiard table and on the basketball court, but you’re as soft and squishy as a marshmallow on the inside.” Nick draped an arm around Em’s shoulder and tugged her closer.
“True. But that’s why you love me,” she countered, scooting closer. She lay her head on his shoulder and wiped away tears. “And yes, I know it’s just a movie. But I can’t help being happy for Sid and Dre because they finally figured it out. The ending gets me every time.”
Nick leaned his head against hers. “And maybe it’s hitting a little harder now that you’ve decided you want a happy ending of your own?”
“Maybe.” Em sniffled. “I don’t want crustless cucumber sandwiches at my bridal shower or anything,” she said, referring to a scene in the movie, and it made them both laugh. “But I do want my happily ever after. And like Sid, I’m tired of waiting for it.”
“I know.” Nick frowned, his chest tightening. He was glad Em couldn’t see his expression. “And you will get your happy ending. The right guy will come along eventually. Just don’t be fooled into taking the bait from the wrong guy or you’ll miss out on your Hip-Hop.”
Em nodded her silent agreement, the two of them huddled together.
Being here for Em like this felt perfect. Like everything he’d ever wanted.
But he couldn’t help thinking about the words uttered by Taye Diggs’s character.
I don’t wanna be your friend no more.
Every woman he knew swooned at that moment in the movie, thinking it was romantic that Dre had come to the realization that he wanted to be Sid’s lover, not just her friend. But Nick had always taken those words literally. To him, it was Dre’s admission that they couldn’t have both—so he was choosing romance over their friendship. Something Nick wasn’t prepared to do.
His friendship with Em had outlasted many of their friends’ parents’ marriages.
A little fun between the sheets wasn’t hard to find. A friendship like theirs was precious and rare. So he wouldn’t risk it.
“Thanks for watching Brown Sugar with me again. But I’ve got an early morning meeting with a client. I should probably get some sleep.” Em sat up, wiping tears from her damp eyes.
Nick stared at Em a moment. His gaze dropped from her watery brown eyes to her full lips, and he couldn’t help wondering about the taste and feel of them. His heart thudded in his chest, and his throat suddenly felt dry.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Em studied him with concern. “You were in a daze for a second there.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just glad we got a chance to hang out tonight and catch up.” Nick stood suddenly. “I’ll put away the dishes.”
He grabbed their plates and glasses and headed toward the kitchen.
“You don’t need to do that.” Em followed him. “I can take care of the dishes.”
“You gave me the last of your mom’s ham. Taking care of the dishes is the least I can do.” Nick rinsed their plates. The moment he glanced at the refrigerator, he froze, struck by the memory of how perfect Em’s ass had looked as she’d bent over to rummage inside the fridge.
He was hard and had to readjust his stance remembering how incredible she’d looked.
“We’re playing at a wedding at the resort this weekend,” Nick said. “You could be our emcee. The gig doesn’t pay, but we can compensate you with overpriced wedding cuisine. I know how much you love cocktail shrimp.”
“Sounds fun.” Em pulled her sweater around her tightly. “But that’s when I have my date with Dillon.”
“Oh. Right.” It felt like Nick’s chest was being crushed by a boa constrictor. “Next time, then.”
“Next time,” she echoed. “Now stop stalling. We both need to get into bed… separately, of course.” Em sifted her fingers through her soft curls, and he wanted to do the same, but he shoved a hand in his pocket instead.
“I can’t just hop into bed anymore. There’s a whole routine to this.” She indicated her hair and face. “First, I have to wrap my hair up in a scarf, which is a lot trickier than I thought. The makeup has to come off and there’s an entire skin care routine that has like five steps.”
“Shit. Look at you. You’ve officially become high maintenance,” Nick teased. “Guess you’ll be traveling a lot heavier on our next vacation. Speaking of which…” He turned to her, an idea suddenly churning in his head. “Traveling more is a part of your Soulmate Project, right?”
“Yes, but I haven’t gotten that far on the list,” she admitted.
“I’ve got a couple of work trips coming up. The first one is to San Antonio in a few weeks. You should come with me.”
“But you’ll be working,” Em said.
“Not the entire time. And when I am working, it’ll give you a chance to work on client projects or explore the city a little on your own. What do you say?”
“Are you sure you want me tagging along? This sounds like the perfect out-of-town hook up situation for you. We’re both a little too old for leaving a sock on the doorknob.”
“I know, smart-ass.” Nick grinned. “I’m not interested in hooking up with anyone.”
“How will you know until you get there?” Em folded her arms.
“Because I’d rather spend that time hanging out with my best friend and helping you check the next few items off your list.”
Em silently assessed him, her eyes narrowing. “Text me the dates, and I’ll let you know.”
Nick maintained a neutral expression. But inside, he was doing a happy dance. Time with Em was harder to come by now. He relished the chance to have her all to himself for a few days. “Will do.”
He headed into the living room and collected his coat, slipping it on.
“Now I need to think about Step Six: doing something outside of my comfort zone,” Em said. “There’s a new dance studio in town, and I’d really like to take lessons.”
“Why? You dance just fine. Your Wobble is a little wobbly, and you get lost every single time in that Tamia line dance. But I’d give you a solid eight and a half for the creativity you bring to your Electric Slide,” Nick teased.
“That’s line dancing. There are patterns to follow, and I can handle that. As can every eighty-year-old grandmother out there. Except that Tamia one. That one is hard.” Em pointed a finger.
Nick wanted to mention that eighty-something Mama Mae managed that dance just fine, but there was a good chance his friend would toss him out on his ass… deservedly so.
“But dancing as a couple—like we did for Dexter and Dakota’s wedding—is a completely different ballpark,” Em continued. “I looked like an uncoordinated loon out there on the dance floor.”
Nick snorted because while he wouldn’t have described Em’s dancing so harshly, she wasn’t exactly wrong. But he did his best to hold back a laugh when Em gave him the evil eye.
“See what I mean?” Em pointed an accusatory finger at him, and Nick dissolved into laughter. “Rett and Sin’s wedding will be here before we know it. I do not want to be the weakest link in the bridal party this time. I’d like to look like I know what I’m doing out there. I just don’t want to take the classes alone.”
“If you’re doing this in hopes of finding someone, wouldn’t it make more sense to take the class by yourself?”
“Probably. But I’m nervous about taking the class solo. There’s a reason Will Smith had Jazzy Jeff, Chuck D had Flavor Flav, and Biggie had… never mind,” Em said.
“So you plan to go into the class with your own hype man, like you’re a 1990s rapper?” Nick asked incredulously.
Who is this woman right now? And why do I find her so incredibly hot—aside from the booty shorts, thigh-high socks, and her impeccable taste in hip-hop?
“When you put it that way, it makes me sound either delusional or a bit full of myself.” Em grinned. “The point is that it’s nice to have company and someone who thinks you’re awesome, even when you move like an uncoordinated duck.” She shrugged, shoving his shoulder when he chuckled. “I’ve been trying to talk Kassie into taking the class with me, but the girl has two left feet. The idea of taking dance classes made her break into a cold sweat.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Nick said, surprising himself.
“You’re volunteering to take a dance class with me? In addition to work, and this extra project, and playing with the band?” Em counted each of Nick’s responsibilities off on her fingers.
“This is important to you, right?”
“Yes.” The laughter was gone from her voice.
“Then it’s important to me, too,” Nick said plainly. “Sign us up, and I’ll send you the money for my class registration. I probably won’t be able to attend every class. But hopefully by the time I miss one, you’ll be feeling more comfortable.”
“Thank you, Nick.” The relief on his friend’s face made the juggling of his schedule that he’d have to do these next few weeks seem worth it. “Wait, you almost forgot this.” Em grabbed the wool scarf she gifted him the previous Christmas from the sofa and tied it around his neck. “ There . Now you’re ready to face the elements.”
Nick stared at Em, studying her gorgeous face as she gazed up at him gratefully.
Em had wished him good night like this many times before. So why did everything about tonight feel so different? And why couldn’t he stop staring at her mouth, wanting to cover those pouty lips with his own?
Because that night had changed everything. And those body-hugging jammies and thigh-high, cable-knit socks weren’t helping. He honestly might never get the vision of Em in that outfit out of his brain.
“If you need anything, remember I’m just a phone call away.” Nick buttoned his jacket.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I promise to avoid trails of pancakes leading to kidnappers’ vans. Nor will I spend my evening crying lonely-girl tears into a bottle of gin.”
“Of course not. You’re a rum girl. You’d make yourself a pitcher of mojitos instead.” Nick winked.
“Sometimes, I hate that you know me so well.” Em pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Text me to let me know you made it home, and don’t argue with me.” Em jabbed a finger in his direction. “I’m already stressed about wrapping my hair right. I don’t need to be worrying about whether you made it home safely, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nick saluted.
“Smart-ass.” Em shook her head. “Good night.”
Nick wished her a good night, then headed back to his car.
Spending time with Em was always the lift that he needed. The thing that made him feel like his life was back in balance—no matter what else might be going on.
He wanted his friend to be happy. But it broke him to think that someday soon it would be someone else who would put that smile on Em’s face and be her shoulder to cry on. He only hoped that someone would be confident enough in their relationship to respect his friendship with Em rather than being envious of it.
Was that too much to ask?