“What is with you and commercials? Seriously, I don’t know anyone else who even watches them, let alone enjoys them.” Brooks signals our server for another beer.
“Some are funny. You don’t watch them because all you watch is porn, and they don’t have commercials.” Staci clenches her jaw.
“Damn right.” Brooks smirks.
He’s attractive, but when he smiles, even arrogantly, it gives him an extra charming quality that I’m sure makes women actually swoon.
The hearts he must break.
Our server returns with a new drink for Brooks and asks if we need another round.
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I won’t be able to drive home if I drink another. Can I get a water instead?”
“Make that two, please,” Dax adds.
“I guess I’ll switch to water too since someone needs to drive your ass home.” Staci frowns at Brooks, who’s taking several drinks of his beer. He watches her out of the corner of his eye the whole time and ends with an exaggerated “ah.”
“Lighten up, Stace.” He grabs her by the shoulders and massages her.
She pauses. Sighing, she gives in, letting her head roll to the side. “If you’re going to rub my shoulders, get in there. I have knots the size of the Rocky Mountains.”
By the end of the night, the muscles in my face are sore from laughing. They don’t talk shop. We joke and tease like I’m part of their close-knit group, and I’m glad I came out tonight.
At one point, Dax stretches his arm across the back of my seat, and I instinctively lean closer to him. As we continue talking, Dax’s hand falls to my shoulder, where his thumb idly rubs circles there.
The hairs on my neck stand.
The skin under my sleeve buzzes.
Odd.
As we quiet down, Dax waves to the server for a check. “We should get going before the storm hits.”
“It’s supposed to storm tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah, nothing too bad, though.”
I nod, hoping Jacob’s okay. He hasn’t been afraid of storms in a while, but I always wonder, especially when he’s staying at a friend’s. I send him and Sidney a quick text each to check in. They both immediately reply that everything’s fine, and Jacob’s having a great time.
Which floods me with relief.
After the checks are paid and we say our goodbyes, Dax follows me to my house, and a warmth settles into my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Part of me didn’t think it’d be easy moving back here. I didn’t think I’d fit so easily into this town that’s so close-knit, but they’ve welcomed Jacob and me with open arms.
And then there’s Dax.
Being close with him again has been the breath of fresh air I desperately needed.
Some friendships don’t withstand distance, years, and loss. Some friendships fizzle at the first sign of hardship, but not Dax and me.
We’re closer than ever.
It’s good.
It’s what I need.
But when I cut the engine off, the rain pelting against my windshield, I admit the ache in my chest is still there too.
Will it ever go away?
Dax waves from the porch, and I barely comprehend his muffled yells for me to run. I jump out of the car, squealing, and run toward him. Trying to catch my breath, I shake the water from my hair. “Didn’t know it was supposed to storm so hard tonight.”
“You don’t watch the weather app as intently as I do.”
“I don’t need more reasons for Jacob to think I’m uncool.” I roll my eyes sarcastically as I unlock the door. Kicking my shoes off, I point to my bedroom upstairs. “My bathroom is the one without a showerhead. Do you want coffee or tea or anything?”
“I’m good.” He nods, his gaze lingering on me, his hair dripping wet. His shirt clings to his defined chest and arms—all his muscles are visible.
He’s lean.
Strong.
Very masculine, and I’m not used to seeing him this way.
Of course, he’s always been good-looking, but this sight of him, after all these years, it feels different.
I can’t put my finger on it.
“I have an extra shirt and pair of shorts of yours. From when you and Jacob decided it was a good idea to camp in the backyard, and it rained.”
He returns my smile, scratching his head like he’s shy. Like part of him is still that awkward teen we both used to be.
He watches me like I’m made of gold—brilliant and shiny. It makes my cheeks suddenly flush. “I think they’re in the laundry room.” I hold my finger up and walk down the hall. I find his shirt and gym shorts folded on top of the dryer and come back out with them. “Here you go, and I can put your clothes in the dryer once you change.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” He holds up the bag in his hand, which I hadn’t noticed. “I picked up a new showerhead on my way to the bar.”
He takes his shoes off, leaving them at the door, then disappears up the stairs to my room.
I stand in place, admiring his defined back muscles, and I practically pick my jaw up off the floor. What the hell am I doing? Ogling my best friend? The guy who pulled my hair in elementary school because Jerry Driskell dared him to? I then traded my sugar cookies for his chocolate chunk cookies and called a truce.
I move in half circles like I’ve forgotten how to get around in my own home and make my way to Jacob’s bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I lean on the sink, seemingly lost in the fact that Dax is definitely no longer that same kid.
He’s a man.
I rub my forehead, shaking myself out of these stupid thoughts, and remind myself why I’m in here.
Wet hair.
Soaked clothes.
“Shit.” I step out into the living room and head to my room. “Dax, I forgot my clothes.”
He doesn’t answer. The fan’s on, muffled by the sound of the bathroom sink running. My bedroom door is ajar, and thinking I can sneak in and out, I push it farther open.
I’m about to step inside when Dax steps out of the bathroom, his gym shorts hanging low on his hips.
He pulls his shirt on over his head, and it feels like it happens in slow motion.
Muscled biceps.
Water dripping down his bare chest.
His glorious abs taut and defined and perfect.
Under his belly button, a dusting of hair disappears into his shorts…
I suck in a sharp breath as my gaze travels farther south, down the V of his abs, before he pulls his shirt the rest of the way down.
I’m frozen. How can this be the same Dax who jumped rope with me?
The same Dax who held me when my high school boyfriends were being jerks?
He stands before me now, a man. A gorgeous man with a body that makes me need to squeeze my thighs together.
I remain standing in place, watching and admiring and waiting, for what I’m not sure.
He grabs the bag with the showerhead from my bed. Pausing, he angles his body toward the bathroom door.
Just when I think he’ll head back to the bathroom, he peers over his shoulder.
At me.
My cheeks flush.
Heat courses through my body like an electric current, setting up camp in my very core.
A small gasp escapes me when he licks his lips, his nostrils flaring, as he watches me like we’re playing chess.