Page 9 of That Friendzone Feeling

Havinglost the ability to form anything resembling a word,Isilently raise my glass to meet his.

3

WALKER

Theair from the fridge is cold on my bare chest and legs.I’vebeen standing here in my basketball shorts staring into it for way longer than necessary to locate the bacon and eggs.Andit’s not just because of the late night and emotional responsibility of making sure two hundred people had a greatNewYear’sEve.

Nope.

It’sentirely due to that kiss.ThekissIcan’t get out of my head.Thekiss that stopped me from sleeping because my mind replayed it over and over.Mylips onEmily’sfor the first time.Andthe last.

Igrab the breakfast ingredients and kick the fridge door shut with my bare foot.

Ithas to be the last time.Becauseany other way madness lies.

Itwas supposed to be a joke.Aquick smashing of my mouth against hers to make her laugh because she wasabout to burst into tears at the thought of being boyfriendless at such a couple-y time.

Iput the bacon and eggs on the counter and grab a pan from a hook by the stove.

Butonce our lips made contact, something strange happened.Ididn’t want to stop.Itwas like my brain dissolved and allIwanted to do was explore her mouth more.Therewas even a tingling in my groin, and that is definitely not approved.Emily-induced groin tingles are completely unacceptable.

Thering under the pan click-click-clicks asIlight it.

Butmaybe it was just an automatic physical thing.Abiological reactionIhave no control over.Justhow we’re wired.

Yup,Iblame biology.Whena heterosexual man’s lips make contact with an attractive woman, groin tingles automatically ensue.

Ipeel open the bacon packet.

And,Godknows,Emilywas attractive last night.Shealways is.Butshe looked stunning in that short dress.Thegreenish color really lit up the long dark hair, brown eyes, and olive skin of herItalianheritage.

Andher legs, ending in those silver heels, have never looked more spectacular.

Ilay one slice of bacon after another in the hot pan.

We’vebeen best buds since the first week of grad school.Itcan’t be usual to suddenly develop groin tingles for someoneI’vespoken to every day for ten years.

It’snot okay to want to hold my lips against those of someoneI’veseen through a decade of tears over how her parents’ lives revolve around her sister whileEmily’sachievements go virtually unrecognized.

Andit’s entirely unacceptable to start having nonplatonicthoughts about the long, perfectly formed legs of someone who’s drunkenly thrashed me at dirty-wordScrabblea thousand times.

Iflip the bacon.

EvenifIdid want a relationship, whichIabsolutely don’t—creating good beer and a successful company is way more interesting—Iwould never in a million years want one withEmily.

She’sas important to me as my brother and my aunt and uncle and cousins.She’smy family too.Notto mention my business partner.

Whatan unholy mess it would be ifIstarted gettingrealgroin tingles and lip-smushing desires for the personI’vebuiltToastedTomatowith.We’resupposed to be growing it into a global brand, not burning it to the ground with stupidity, for fuck’s sake.

So, yes.Biology.That’sall it was.

“Morning.”

Myinsides jump.

Ilook over my shoulder to findEmilyon the other side of the kitchen island.Thesizzling bacon and my rampaging thoughts must have drowned out any sound of her crossing the open plan living space from her bedroom near the front door.

Andshe’s fully dressed.Neveronce when she’s stayed with me—or me with her whenIsometimes crashed at her place in college—has she ever appeared fully dressed in the mornings.Shealways stumbles around in whichever oversizedT-shirt she’s slept in and settles in with a cup of coffee filled with some variety of sweet, creamy crap before she does anything else.