The sun rises the next morning faster than any morning has ever come. Faster than I came last night thinking about Wyatt.
Our friendship is real.
Our relationship is fake.
My attraction to him is…palpable.
I roll out of bed and get dressed.
I’m greeted by the smell of coffee first. Wyatt has a mid-tier espresso machine. It takes pods, but its own brand of fancy pods. It’s a splurge for someone who grew up on a farm drinking burnt brewed coffee every day.
His back is to me when I get down the steps, and for a second, I just stand on the landing watching him. He moves methodically through the kitchen, putting milk in the frother, and a new cup under the machine.
I could have stayed in this moment of peace forever. Stood here until time passed us both by, but we’re living together. I can’t avoid him forever. Besides, it’s not like heknowswhat I did last night. I just have to act natural, and he’ll be none the wiser. “Good morning.”
Wyatt turns to me and there’s a look in his eye that I can’t read. “Good morning.”
“You look like you just saw a ghost.”
He looks at the mug on the counter and then back at me. “Uh, yeah. I almost dropped this mug, but I caught it in time.”
I side eye him as I move toward the cupboard for a water glass. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Maybe he’s hungover after the rodeo? But he didn’t have much to drink. Not nearly as much as I saw him drink when we were in college.
I open the fridge and pour myself some water. “So…what did you think of the rodeo last night?” He’s staring at the machine as it pours a steady stream of creamy coffee into the mug below. It’s like he’s not even in this room with me right now. “Wyatt?”
He startles out of whatever he was thinking about. The tips of his ears turning pink and his gaze not meeting mine when he replies, “It was certainly something.” He clears his throat and turns to me. “Is it that packed every night?”
I nod. “Basically, from the first night to the last.”
“Did you have fun?” The tone of his voice is teasing. Like he’s telling an inside joke I should totally get, but for some reason I don’t.
Now it’s my turn to look down at the cup in my hand. Unfortunately, the water doesn’t give me very much to study. I did have fun last night, both at the concert and after…
Act natural, Nash.
Is pointed eye contact as natural as avoiding eye contact, or does it also look strange? “I did. I love hanging out with the whole gang, and the vibes are unmatched.”
Letting myself slip and imagine him while I flicked the bean last night was a horrible idea. We are already fake datingyet real roommates, so I really don’t need anything to get awkward between us. Well, more awkward.
You know what? No. It’s not awkward. Plenty of people have a thing for their best friend. They literally make movies about it. I’m not doing anything wrong.
I drain the rest of my water and put the glass in the sink. Thank God I have a mani/pedi appointment with Temi today; otherwise, I might sit in my guilt for the next two hours, instead.
“Well, I’ve got to go get ready to meet up with Temi. I’ll be back later.”
He’s still looking off in the distance at something I can’t see. This time it’s out of the window over the kitchen sink that faces the street below. I lean over his shoulder looking for whatever has his attention, but I don’t see anything. “Dude, why are you being so weird?”
He startles like he didn’t realize I was standing right next to him. “I’m not being weird. I just didn’t sleep well last night and I’m not fully awake yet.”
I point at his coffee, abandoned on the counter while he daydreams. “Good thing you’ve already made your coffee then.”
“Right,” he says, but it’s choked.
I head back toward the stairs. “I’m going to get dressed now. Don’t fall asleep mid-sip and accidentally drown in your latte.”
His returning smile is small, not the big grin that I’m used to getting from my teasing, but I let it go. Like he said, he’s tired. Everyone is allowed a little grace.
Even someone like me—who’s hooked on their best friend?