Page 14 of If You Say So

“Did you finish that paper for Comm Skills II?”

“I did, but I think it’s absolute shit, so I’ll probably try to rewrite it later tonight. Cannot believe that dick Mr. Hang is already taking away a letter grade because I missed a few homework assignments.”

“A few? Nate, you missed almost half of the ones assigned this year, and it’s April—school’s almost over.”

“Whose side you on here, dude?”

He shakes his head. “Want me to read over the paper for you? I’m acing that class, so I might have insight.”

“Sure.” I push my notebook onto his lap and stand. “You read. I’m running to the laundry room to grab socks. My feet are frozen.”

He nods and immerses himself in the paper as I rush out of the room and down the hallway. I yank open the dryer and pull out a pair of socks, sliding them on right there.

Ignoring the rest of the clothes stashed inside, I slam the door back closed and make my way back to my bedroom.

I pause in the door when I see Blake’s hunched form, his head hanging low, concentration fully on my essay. His brows are pinched, fingers running idly over his plump, rose-colored lips.

For only a moment, I allow those thoughts from earlier to drift back in. I can picture my own fingers grazing over his lips just before my mouth descends on his, seizing him in a determined kiss. My hands itch to dive into his messy midnight hair.

My dick twitches and I reach down, pressing my palm to my growing erection.Fuck.I take a steady breath, trying to calm myself, making a half-hearted attempt to put a stop to the images assaulting my mind before I do something insane…like march into that room and kiss him like I’ve been dying to.

He’s my best friend. Icannotbe crushing on him. If he knew what was going through my head right now, there’s no way he’d still be sitting there.

“I can feel you staring,” he says quietly.

“Yeah?”

He nods but doesn’t say another word.

“Does it bother you?” I’m not certain why I ask, or why I care. I’m not sure what kind of answer I’m looking to get, but the words are out there now, and I can’t take them back.

Blake swallows thickly before his tongue darts out to wet his lips. His mouth opens, and then slams shut again. Open, shut…and once more as a weight settles in the pit of my stomach and the worry seeps in.

Did I do something wrong? Did he catch the lilt to my voice? Does he know what my question means beyond the surface? Does he know I’ve been thinking about him in ways you’re not supposed to think about your best friend?

I tread farther into the room, taking careful, calculated steps. He’s still sitting there, reading, not answering me—and it’s driving me up the fucking wall.

I resume my spot next to him, noting the moment his body stiffens as my leg brushes up against his.

“No.” He says it quietly, firmly. “It doesn’t.”

I don’t move, hardly breathe. I’m stunned and elated and confused all at once.

We sit there in silence, until finally, moments later, he pulls his attention from the paper and throws a playful grin my way.

“What?” I question hesitantly. “Why do you look like you want to kiss me right now?”

Shit, why did I have to say that?

Blake either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, his smirk still in place as he points to the notebook he’s holding. “Because this paper isgood. There’s no way you’re going to fail. You have this in the bag.”

Something in his tone reaches out and touches me so strongly that I rub my chest like I can feel it…whateveritis.

“I’m proud of you, man.”

That’s it:pride.

Such a foreign feeling to me. I don’t think anyone has ever been proud of me before, especially not my parents who are so wrapped up in the glitz and glam of their lifestyle, they frequently forget I exist.

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