The boundaries we’ve carefully laid out were just blown to bits. Every line we’ve ever drawn was crossed.
It’d have been one thing to see him naked. It was bound to happen at some point.
But friends don’t look at each other the way I looked at him.
The throb between my legs hasn’t subsided, and I’m so keyed up I’m not even sure pulling out my sewing machine and working on my new design is going to relax me.
Images of a naked Cooper assault me.
His long, bare body.
Perfectly toned. Perfectly lickable.
I gulp and crash my hands through my hair, lifting the mass of blonde locks and fanning at myself.
You’re just all worked up because of talking about your sad love life. It has nothing to do with Cooper himself. Just desperate, remember?
Yeah, yeah. That’s all it is.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. You’re just going to pretend it never happened and you’ll laugh about it later. Stop thinking about his dick. Stop thinking about him. You’re going to go out tomorrow and get laid and you’ll never think about this again and it’ll be fine.
An all-too-familiar click echoes through the quiet apartment.
Cooper’s door creaks as he peels it open. He pads out of his room with determined steps, so loud, like he’s stomping, though I know he isn’t.
He pauses, and I can see the shadows of him dancing across my floor. He’s mere inches away from the door, and for a second, I pray he just walks away.
“Fuck,” he mutters yet again.
I hear him suck in a deep breath, and a soft thump hits the door. I know it’s his head making contact.
Without making a sound, I spin, pressing my ear against the door. I relish the feel of the cool wood against my otherwise clammy skin as I wait for him to say something.
Do I even want him to say something?
What is there to say at this point?
Hey, look, I know you just saw me naked and touched my dick, but it’s your turn to set the coffee pot for the morning.
He clears his throat, and I hold my breath.
“I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”
I pinch my brows together and pull back, staring at the door, confused as hell.
Take what so literally?
“I’ll change it tomorrow.”
Curiosity beating out my mortification, I pull the door open, and Cooper stumbles backward.
The moment my eyes meet his, I dart them away, looking at any place but him. The awkwardness hangs between us like a dense fog, and those freakin’ images I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get out of my head come back again.
I slam my eyes closed again.
Breathe, Caroline. It’ll be fine. Just breathe.
“First thing in the morning,” he says, cutting through my thoughts.
My brows draw together tighter, and despite the blush creeping into my cheeks, I peek up at him.
“What are you going on about? Change what tomorrow?”
His eyes dance with mischief. “The Wi-Fi network name. I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”
Son of a…
Yell I Need Ur Penis 4 Password
And just like that, I feel lighter as a slow grin stretches my lips.
Things are going to be just fine.
3
Cooper
Caroline saw me naked.
It was the last thought that ran through my head before I finally passed out around two AM, and it was my first thought when the early-morning sun poked through my blinds half an hour ago as I peeled myself out of bed.
It’s the same thought that followed me into the coldest shower I’ve ever taken.
The thought is still running through my mind as I rinse out the coffee carafe from yesterday, getting ready to start the first pot of the day. First pot, because I’m damn sure I’ll be having another one today.
I chased sleep like I’ve never chased it before just to quiet my head, and the bitch eluded me all night long. I think I got around three hours if you add up all the times I wasn’t wide awake with my mind running wild.
My best friend who has always safely lived on one side of the line we’ve mutually agreed to saw me in nothing but my birthday suit.
Fine. Whatever. So it finally happened? Big whoop.
It was bound to happen given the number of years we’ve known each other. We could have gotten over it after a few days of not making eye contact. She’d say something silly and I’d make fun of her and we’d be fine.
Except Caroline didn’t run. She didn’t hide. Didn’t even cover her eyes.
No.
She stared.
And I mean gawked.
Ogling me like I was her favorite ice cream flavor and she was being handed the last scoop.
I can’t remember the last time a woman looked at me like that. It took every ounce of willpower I had to keep my dick down as much as I did. I thought of every awful thing I could conjure, and I still rose to half-mast just from her stare alone.
Then, she brushed against me.
And I died.
In that short millisecond in the hall, I felt my heart stop beating.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Breathing was out of the question.
I just couldn’t decide if it was because everything I had with my best friend had just changed…or because it was being challenged.
You’re being dramatic, you moron. Just don’t make a big deal out of it. You made her laugh with your joke last night. She’s over it. You’re over it. You’re both moving on.
Right. Moving on. That’s what we need to do.
Her bedroom door clicks open, and I freeze.
Just like I know she freezes when she sees my bedroom door is open.
She knows I’m awake. I know she does because I can hear her sharp inhale from here.
Time to face the music.
I imagine her pushing her shoulders back, charging forward with all the false confidence she can gather, and padding down the hall.
She appears around the corner, her blonde hair a curly mess, her favorite pair of tattered jammies hanging off her like they always do.
She looks normal. The same. Like nothing at all has changed between us.
See? It’s not a big deal.
Then our eyes meet, and her cheeks turn bright red.
Yeah, it’s definitely a big deal.
I clear my throat.
“Coffee?” I ask, trying to push forward and act like everything is fine.
Maybe if I pretend enough, it’ll be true.
“Please.”
I nod, reaching for the coffee beans from the cabinet above the coffee station we’ve created. I pour the desired amount into the grinder and turn it on.
From my peripheral, I see Caroline move through the apartment and into the kitchen. I try to ignore her, focusing on getting the coffee from the grinder and into the filter and pressing start on the pot.
The legs of the stool scrape noisily across the floor, the sound breaking through our silence. She hauls herself up onto the seat and rests her elbows on the counter, looking anywhere but at me.
I lean against the counter, as far away from her as possible.
I can’t help stealing glances at her as she picks the polish off her nails. Then moves on to pulling at the strings of her worn pajamas, still avoiding looking at me.
She looks nervous, and Caroline hasn’t looked nervous around me since we first met the summer before high school.