Page 62 of Friendshipped
I was actually seeing your muscles—which need a shirt, stat. Did I already say you need a shirt? I’m tempted to drape the throw blanket off my couch over Trevor’s shoulders to end this strange torment. My mind sends the telepathic message:Get dressed would you?
He’s obviously deaf to my unspoken words.
Before I embarrass myself any further, I offer, “Do you want iced tea? You look like you’re hot.”
“I look hot?” He asks with a playful wink. “Come over here and give this hottie a hug!”
Trevor stalks toward me while Laura and Shannon squeal with laughter at his antics.
“Come on, Lex,” he says, looking at me with bedroom eyes.
Trevor has bedroom eyes? When did he get bedroom eyes? This keeps getting worse!
I roll my eyes and try to look completely unaffected. “No! You’re notthatkind of hot. Trev, stop. You’re sweaty!”
He’s moving toward me with his arms outstretched like he’s going to envelop me any second. The look on his face—I can’t even make eye contact. I’ve never seen him like this and it’s too confusing. Laura and Shannon are rolling in the background taking immense delight in this whole scene.
Trevor’s declarations of friendship and the way he’s stalking toward me don’t seem to belong together. But could they? I’m like the accidental inventor of the Reece’s cup, tripping and mixing two beautiful things into one. Hey! Chocolate and peanut butter! Who knew? Only I don’t think our friendship is going to blend into anything different no matter how he’s joking around right now.
My thoughts pull like two teams at the tug-of-war finals. One saysHug him! You know you want to!And the other screams,Run! Preserve the friendship!
“One glass of tea coming up!” I nearly screech, darting into the kitchen before this gets worse than it is.
Trevor’s playing with me, and I know it. He has no idea the low-grade turmoil I’ve been enduring this past week dealing with Meg coming back in town and him choosing to go out with her. He’s teasing me like we’ve done with each other forever. If he only knew what his fake flirtation was doing to me.
While I pour Trevor’s drink, I plot slow, torturous revenge on two of my closest girlfriends—especially Laura. She started this, pointing out muscles and making me look at Trevor like he was Channing Tatum dancing on a table instead of my best friend doing weekly yard work.
21
Trevor
If I didn’t know better, I’d say Lexi had been watching me mow the yard, and I don’t mean watching the lawnmower. I think she was watchingme. The way she leapt across the room when I opened the door looked more than suspicious. And that blush when I asked her what she was up to almost made a sympathetic blush creep up my face.
I may have tried to push things toward my advantage, going all male-model-coming-out-of-the-pool-on-a-hot-day on her. I intentionally ran my hand through my hair and crossed my arms to accentuate my muscles. I never resort to those kinds of maneuvers, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I almost can’t allow myself to entertain the possibility Lexi has any level of attraction to me. If I’m wrong, my heart might not be able to withstand the letdown.
I head into my house after my little interaction with the women next door so I can shower and get ready for the rest of my day.
We’re going to the reservoir. It’s one of those things we do during the hot summer months to stay cool, though the lake water actually stays warmer than a bath, and the bugs are out with a vengeance. In case you haven’t seen our mosquitoes, they aren’t normal. It’s like they went into training with Dwayne the Rock Johnson and took stinging lessons from Ant Man.
For some reason my particular type of blood is like an irresistible delicacy in the mosquito world. While Lexi usually gets exactly zero bites, I spend any time I’m not in the water swatting at every buzzing sound and slapping myself like an escapee from a mental institution. Bug repellant helps—but only a little.
Despite all the insects, being at the reservoir’s one of my favorite things to do in the summer months around Bordeaux. Families bring their picnic lunches or portable barbecues, kids run in and out of the water, and townspeople of all ages gather in lawn chairs and on blankets.
People pop up badminton nets or pull out cornhole boards or frisbees. Days like this make me glad I came home after college. I could have stayed in Columbus, but in my heart I’m a small-town guy.
Once I load my car with food, blankets and chairs, I walk next door to see if Lexi and her friends are ready to go.
Laura’s the first one to say something when I walk in. “Trevor. So good to see you dressed.”
I give her the look my dad always gives when one of us went too far. Troublemaker.
“Are you women ready for a day at the reservoir?” I ask.
Shannon stands up and says, “I’m ready. Let me get Lexi. She’s mixing lemonade in the kitchen.”
Laura grabs a stack of beach towels and locks eyes with me. She lowers her voice and says, “You could have cut the tension between you two with a knife earlier.”
