Page 68 of Friend Zone to End Zone

“I imagine she’s not,” Incognito said with an amused look in his eyes. “But for what it’s worth, it doesn’t take a psychology degree to know that what people say while they’re intoxicated is often a lot closer to the truth than they like to admit.” He patted me on the shoulder. “I don’t know much about your story aside from what Derek told me, but I don’t think I’d be too far off by guessing there’s a lot more to your relationship than a friend just wanting to help the other friend find love.”

“You think so?” I was trying really hard not to let my hopes get up too high based on a stranger’s estimation.

Incognito glanced over to where Arianna had disappeared around the corner. “I don’t know how this thing will end.” He met my inquiring gaze. “But I think that girl is fighting really hard to convince herself that she doesn’t want something that she very much really does want.”

“So you think there’s something to what she was saying at the beginning of your conversation?” My heart was in my throat over the anticipation of such a possibility.

He nodded. “In my professional opinion, I think she definitely thinks you’re hotter than Chad.” He chuckled, like the whole conversation had been the most entertaining thing to happen to him in a long time.

It was even harder not to get my hopes up with him basically confirming what I myself had gotten out of their conversation.

But there was something else I’d caught on to as well that had my curiosity burning.

“Your professional opinion as a musician?” I tilted my head to the side. “Or a psychologist?”

A mischievous grin lifted the corners of his lips. “A musician, of course.”

His gaze seemed to catch on something behind me. I turned around and found a waitress with red hair walking toward us with a very uncomfortable expression on her face.

“Mr. Kekoa?” she asked in a timid voice. “Your guest just fell down in the ladies’ room and I thought you might want to know.”

29

Cole

“I’msorry I’m so drunk,” Arianna said when I walked into the guest room at my house with a T-shirt and gym shorts for her to change into. She’d dozed off a little on the thirty-minute drive to my home and was much more subdued than she’d been during her conversation with Incognito.

Her mom was working the night shift at the hospital tonight, and since I wasn’t super comfortable leaving her alone when she wasn’t feeling well, I had offered her my guest room so I could keep an eye on her if she needed anything.

A little overboard on my part? Perhaps. But it would make me sleep better to know she was okay.

I handed her the clothes. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

She took the pajamas from me. “I’m just really, really tired.” And when she spoke, the words were drawn out—as if just speaking in full sentences was hard work.

“Will you be able to get changed by yourself?” I asked when she just stared blankly at the clothes I’d handed her, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

She rolled her arms forward, and then she seemed to notice how restricting her dress was. She frowned and reached her arms behind her back to unzip it. She struggled for a few seconds, then standing up, she turned her back to me and said, “Can you just do it? My hands aren’t working right.”

“S-sure.” I stepped forward hesitantly, not exactly sure how to proceed. Because from the cut of her dress, I really didn’t think she was wearing the kind of bra underneath that would be appropriate for me to see if she needed more help than just lowering the zipper.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the footboard of the bed, like it was the only thing keeping her vertical.

Before I could think too much about what I was doing, I quickly stepped closer and pulled the zipper at her lower back a few inches down. Just the sight of the bare skin at the base of her spine had my pulse pounding everywhere.

She started slipping her arms out of her sleeves drowsily, like she wasn’t even aware that she was about to undress in front of her best friend.

So I quickly turned my back to her and said, “I’ll just grab you a drink of water from the kitchen. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then I left the room before she could show me way more than she ever would if she wasn’t so out of it.

“Hello?”I knocked on the door a few minutes later, a glass of ice water in my hand. “Are you decent in there?”

No answer.

“Arianna?” I asked a little louder this time. “Are you okay?”

When there was still no answer, I knocked once more and set my ear to the door to listen for signs of movement. When I still didn’t hear anything, I opened the door slightly.

Arianna’s dress was in a pile on the floor, and she was lying face down in the middle of the bed in a position that I knew would leave her with a sore neck come morning.

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