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“Why?” I ask, taking a step closer.

“Because it would make things weird, and you don’t…” I press my index fingers to her lips to stop her talking, sensing she’sabout to ramble. I lower my head so I am painfully close to her lips.

“If you need me, use me. If being with me helps you, then I’m all yours, Gabriella. For as long as you need.”

I remove my finger from her lips, and to stress my point further, I cup her face, running the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, causing her eyes to flutter closed.

“And to be clear. I do see you like that.” My voice is low and gravelly, full of heat and want for this woman, and then I do something I never let myself do. I give in to my urges and I press my lips to hers. It soft and gentle, it's everything I’m not, but for her, I want to be, because Gabriella doesn’t deserve the fractured and tortured parts of me.

Her body melts into mine as her hands fist my top. I tap my boot against her feet, signaling for her to widen her legs, and she does, allowing me to push my knee between her thighs. To my surprise, she grinds her center against my thigh and lets out a whimper as I push my tongue inside her mouth. She welcomes it, and our tongues intertwine, creating the most intoxicating and consuming kiss I’ve ever experienced. I’m not a big kisser, never understood the need for it. It felt too intimate, but Gabriella is the type of woman I sense craves that level of intimacy, but she’s also someone I want to show it to, and that scares me. I don’t have a chance to let my thoughts wander anymore.

Cheers and whistles ring out. We break the kiss and turn to see a crowd of drunk men gathered at the end of the car park, attempting to get into waiting cabs.

When we turn back to each other, our eyes lock, and I swallow the lump in my throat that’s making it feel impossible to breathe. The reality of what I have just offered her weighs heavy in the pit of my stomach. We’ve already crossed the line of friendship and entered new territory with that kiss. I know I am playing withfire, I’ll worry about all the “what if’s” later, but for now I need to know what she wants.

“So, what will it be, Gabriella? Do you want my help?”

Chapter Seventeen

Gabriella

The last part of my heels class went by in a blur. I drove back to my apartment on autopilot, not remembering any of the journey. As I turn the key in my front door, my phone vibrates in my gym bag. I pull it free and see a couple of new texts.

Brad

Gabriella, please call me. We need to talk.

I don’t reply—I’ve been ignoring him since he made his offer three nights ago—and open up Ali’s message.

Ali

Hey G, I don’t think I’ll be home until early hours. Don’t wait up. Love you.

I walk into the apartment and head to my room, tossing my gym bag on the floor and make my way to my bathroom. My body feels hot and sticky from class and I am desperate to wash the day off.

I step under the strong jets of hot water and instantly feel my body relax. Closing my eyes, I wipe away the day's make up. Flashbacks of Brad brushing my cheek and pressing his lips to mine almost has me reaching between my legs. I’ve never been kissed the way he kissed me. It was tender, and slow, and far more intimate than I think it was meant to be. I’ve always fancied Brad, but quietly. I’d never act on it or ever imagine us being together because it just wouldn’t ever happen. I was his friend. His younger, quiet, and slightly awkward friend. I may be inexperienced and naïve, but I am switched on enough to know that friends don’t kiss friends that way. I reach for my favorite cherry-scented shampoo, lather up my hair, and massage my scalp. Everything aches: my head, my shoulders, my back. I don’t know if it’s from my shift at the club, the endless punishing workouts I’ve put my body through the past two days, or the weight of guilt for treating Brad the way I did.

I mull over my words to him as I exit the shower and begin drying my hair. I put on my underwear, pink silk PJs and matching silk robe, and decide a night rotting on the couch is needed.

I feel too churned up to eat, so I decide on a fruit smoothie and settle down to watch my favorite TV show. I’m about halfway through an episode when a knock sounds at the door.

I pause the TV. A muffled voice comes through the door and nerves twist in my stomach. “Gabriella, I know you’re in there. Please open the door.”

I hesitantly make my way over to the door and open it. There he stands, head to toe in black, leaning against the doorframe. “Can I come in?” he asks.

Unable to speak, I nod and gesture for him to come inside. Folding my arms across my front protectively, I suddenly feel so small and awkward. I can’t look him in the eye after the other night.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask as I turn to head towards the kitchen.

“Water, please.” he says, making his way over to the couch where he sits down. “Is Ali home?” he asks, looking round the room as if he were looking for evidence of her being here.

“No, she’s out for the night.” I take two bottles of water from the fridge and make my way over to him, sitting back in my spot on the couch, still avoiding looking at him as I pick at the label on my water bottle.

“Is this the famousFriendsshow you love?” His question surprises me. My head springs up to look at him, and I’m met with a grin that would have any woman opening up their legs for this man. My body heats and my cheeks flush at the idea, and I swallow hard, so hard I know he notices when his gaze drifts to my throat.

“It is,” I say so quietly I am unsure if he heard. An awkward silence falls between us, and I’m close to jumping out the window to get away from him.

We sit through an entire episode of Friends without saying a word.