Up in Flames (Crash and Burn, Book Two) (A Military Romance) (5 page)

I
sink
neck-deep into the steaming bathtub, releasing the heavy sigh that’s been sitting in my chest for days now. My hair is piled in a messy bun on top of my head. The glass of cucumber ice water on the side table has condensation running down the side. I was tempted to have wine, but I need to get into the office early tomorrow morning to catch up on work.

For some strange reason, I’ve been distracted.

I snort and close my eyes, breathing the steam in. The source of my distraction isn’t strange at all, and has been on my mind almost constantly. I can’t focus on my designs the way I should. Poor Emme has been picking up the slack like a champ, reminding me of appointments, making sure I contact clients with appropriate invoices, and the like. I should tell Dane she needs a raise.

I try to get my brain into a Zen state. Breathe in the dampness of the bathwater’s fragrant air, breathe out thoughts of Cole. But I can’t stop thinking about Saturday night at the playground a few nights ago. When I slipped and asked him a question that’s been plaguing me for a while now.

Normally I wouldn’t feel guilty about that kind of thing. We’re friends, after all, and we usually never hold back on each other. But that question, when I asked it, wasn’t just about being friends. It was about me trying to sort out more of his feelings toward me, when they started, despite my head screaming to not think about him as anything other than my bestie.

If he’s wanted me for a while now, why wouldn’t he have come right home after the army? Why did he wait until he came back to Boston to confess these feelings and make a move? And how do I proceed with him when I know my sister wants him too?

It was hard to keep myself in the friend zone that night, but I did, though it kind of killed me to do so. He was cupping my face with such gentleness I wanted to yell, to kiss him, to run away, to hurl myself into his arms. I almost told him about Christina’s feelings for him so he’d know why I’ve been so hot and cold lately, but that might not be my secret to tell.

Has he guessed that she likes him? Maybe I
should
tell him, if only to give him a heads-up. It’s what friends would do, right? When did I become such an indecisive mess—well, more so than usual?

Gah, I hate all this angsting. I sip my water and then chew on a thin slice of cucumber bobbing at the top. Just because he and I had sex doesn’t mean there’s something deeper here. We hung out Saturday night without it going beyond that brief kiss in the car. The night even ended with some hard, genuine laughs as we had monkey bar competitions—who could hustle across the bars the fastest (he won by an avalanche), who could do the best penny drop (I did; still got game, baby). Surely we can slide right back into being only friends.

The thought of not kissing him ever again makes my stomach sink.

My phone vibrates. I glance to see who’s texting me. It’s Darlene, an undergrad buddy whom I occasionally hang out with. I dry off my hand and grab my phone.

What’s up, lady? Long time, no hear. I know it’s last minute, but want to get a drink 2nite? If not, let’s meet up soon, k?

It’s sweet of her to ask, but I don’t want to leave the house. I’m not very good company right now. Feeling too emotional and ridiculous, and I’m sure I’d be no fun at all, dumping all this shit on her shoulders when all she wanted to do was scope hot guys in the bar and throw back a couple of cocktails. Not to mention I planned on early bedtime so I could arrive in the office ready to work tomorrow.

Rain check this time, but yes, let’s hang!! Next week maybe?
I hit send, then plop the phone back on the table.

Out of nowhere, it strikes me then—I’m making a lot of assumptions about how Cole feels toward me but not asking him about it. Just skirting the issue, trying to uncover the depth of his feelings without outright saying, “What
is
this thing happening between us? And what do you want it to be?”

Okay, if I’m honest, I know the reason why I’m doing it this way. It’s easier to stay in the murky middle ground of not defining who or what we are if I don’t ask him. Easier to justify things in regards to my sister, as well.

God, I suck. I need to put on my big-girl panties and deal with this shit sometime—talking with Cole, yes, but first with Christina. It can’t keep going like this, straddling the line and hoping I won’t fall off. Because I’m totally going to crash hard; I feel it coming like that eerie crackle in the air before a storm.

That’s it. I’m going to text her and ask if we can hang out this coming Sunday, maybe do lunch. We’ll get it out in the open once and for all. That buys me a few days to figure out how the hell I’m going to tell her I had sex with the guy she’s crushing on, in a way that won’t drive her away from me for good.

It would kill me to lose her again, especially if it was something I could have prevented. But was this really preventable? My first encounter with Cole was before I even knew her feelings.

The devilish guilt in me whispers,
that encounter last Friday night wasn’t though
. I tried to resist him but I couldn’t. Yet I did resist temptation at the playground—nothing happened between us, not really. Just a tiny kiss. Surely that balances the scales, right?

My phone vibrates again. I dry my hand off, expecting a reply from Darlene, but see it’s Cole instead.

What are you up to?

I bite my lip. Before last week, I would have told him I was bathing, without pausing to consider it. Now I’m wondering if that’s too sexual an admission, if it will lead to us moving out of the friend zone in this conversation. I hate that I’m stressing over what to say to my best friend. This is stupid. It’s a bath. I’m not masturbating or anything.

I think about slipping my finger between my folds while Cole’s sexy voice whispers in my ear over the phone, and I feel myself growing wet. Shit.
Nope, stop that right now,
I order myself. That is decidedly
un
friendly behavior.

Soaking away the day’s stress,
I write. That’s generic enough without any sexual undertone.
You?

A moment later the phone buzzes, and I peek over at the screen to see what he wrote.
Making plans for this weekend. You busy Saturday? I have a fun idea for us.

I pause. It would be awesome to spend more time with Cole. Awesome and torturous at the same time. What’s the right thing to do? Should I wait to see him until after I’ve sorted it out with Christina?

I let the phone sit on the table for minutes as I debate what I should do. I lather soap on my skin, trying to not remember his fingers curling inside my walls, stroking me until I came all over his hand. His tongue flicking and gliding on my nipples. God, why does he have to be so damn sexy and compelling?

Why did my perception of him change? Would this have happened if he didn’t move back to Boston? If Emme didn’t point out how hot he is? I guess there’s no reason to play the what-if game. It is what it is.

I’m devastatingly attracted to Cole. I can’t deny that.

I rinse my hand, dry it off. My fingers shake a little as I text,
I don’t know. I’ll get back to you.
I just need more time to figure out what to do. And I know he’s going to see right through that text and figure out I’m running from him. But what else can I do?

My phone buzzes again. I’m a little nervous to glance at the screen. But it’s Darlene, replying to my message.

No prob! Let’s talk soon. We’ll make dinner plans that aren’t last minute. ;-)

I shoot back a smiley face and then focus on enjoying my bath.

Minutes tick by. No response from Cole. There’s a knot in my chest, one I can’t seem to soak away. Guilt. My friend wants to hang out with me, and because I’m too crazy right now, I’m ditching him, and I’ve probably hurt his feelings.

I debate for several more minutes if I should text him back and see if he’s upset with me. If he is, he’ll tell me, right?

I down the rest of my cucumber water and eat the other slice of cucumber. Drain the tub and wrap up in the towel. Pad to my room and get in my pajamas. Still no response. Dammit. This is stupid.

I grab my phone and start to pound out a text asking him if he’s upset when a message from him buzzes in.

Okay then.

That’s it. Two curt words. I’ve definitely hurt his feelings. A sour taste slides up my throat, and I swallow it down. I’m the world’s worst friend and the world’s worst sister. If I’m really going to go back into the friend zone with him, I actually have to be a friend to him.

I delete what I was going to write and type out,
I would love to hang out. Sorry, I’ve had a stressful day. Let me know details. XO

I fire it off and then, while I’m at it, send a message to Christina asking if she can do lunch Sunday. She works overnights at the hospital for the next few days, so she probably won’t see it until the morning. But at least I sent it and I can’t chicken out now.

As weird as it sounds, given the situation, I actually feel a bit better. I’m doing the right thing. I keep chanting that to myself as I settle into bed with a mystery I started reading a couple of weeks ago.

My phone buzzes. It’s a reply from Cole.

Okay, if you’re sure. It’s fine if you have other plans.

He’s giving me an out. My heart squeezes. Even when I’m being a douche, he’s being thoughtful. Raw, unadulterated feelings for him make my eyes water a bit. Times like this, I don’t deserve his friendship, and I need to work harder at being there for him. I blink and write back,
Absolutely sure. I’m an ass. You’re awesome. Saturday I’m free all day and ready to hang out.

It’s going to be fine. I can be an adult. Because I love him far too much to hurt him.

As I think the word “love,” there’s a prickling sensation in my chest. It’s only friendly love, I tell myself over and over again. That’s all.

* * *

“
Y
ou’re glowing
,” I tell Emme over lunch. “What’s going on? Did I miss your birthday or something?”

She beams with pride. “I just got my spring semester grades in yesterday. I aced all my classes. And I’m going to take a couple this summer and probably finish my degree in the fall.”

I give her a high five. “Holy shit, congrats! You’re on a roll.” I dig into my pasta salad. “We should go out tonight to celebrate. Margaritas at One Tequila?”

Her beaming smile turns to a low flush on her cheeks. Her mouth quirks. “Dane and I are going to dinner tonight, but maybe next week?” She pauses and sucks in a breath, dropping her hands to her lap. “We talked last night. He told me he thinks we should move in together at the end of the month.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Her eyes brighten. “Excited. I mean, I spend most nights over there anyway. And when I’m not there, I just lie in bed missing him.” Her soft sigh makes my heart melt…and simultaneously pinch in envy. God, I want that.

A pair of warm, familiar dark eyes flash in my mind, and I blink away that thought. Nope. This is about her, not about me and Cole. “Sounds wonderful,” I say. “I’d love to have that too.”

She reaches over and strokes my forearm, her brow furrowing. “Hey, you okay? You seem…off lately. I keep meaning to ask you but I don’t want to pry. But I’m not being a good friend if I don’t let you know I’m concerned—and that I’m here for you.”

My throat tightens. Good friend. That’s the crux of my issue, isn’t it? How to go back to being a good friend when every single square inch of me, from my skin to my lungs to my stupid heart, wants more.

I exhale. Then I spill it all out—about the incidents with Cole, about my sister (glossing over our disastrous past; that’s still too hard to confess to anyone), about my confusing feelings. The whole time, she stays quiet, letting me blab on.

When I’m done, the silence stretches between us for a moment. At the tables around us in the lunchroom, people are laughing and talking and eating. I, on the other hand, feel like I just puked my guts up on our table.

Emme finally says in an even tone, “Wow. That’s a lot of stuff to happen in a week.”

I blow out a laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know the right thing to tell Christina so she doesn’t hate me forever for what’s happened. Even if I tell her we’re just friends now, it’s gonna weigh between us, regardless if nothing happens with her and Cole.”

She leans forward. “Do you want to be just friends with him?”

I pause, swallow. Shake my head. It’s the truth, and I need to tell it to someone. Need to admit it to myself. I’m spending all this energy telling myself we should be just friends, but deep down I know I want more. I have to stop lying to myself about it. It’s probably crazy, and it might be suicide for our friendship, but the more time passes, the more I want to give it a shot. I don’t know how Cole feels, but I have a suspicion he might want the same thing. That this isn’t just physical for him.

Her face softens in sympathy. “What a hard spot for you. I’m sorry. Can I offer a bit of advice?”

“God, please. Yes.”