He and I have always been blatantly honest with each other （except for when I’m lying through my teeth about my feelings for him）， so the question comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Nathan, are you flirting with me?”
He’s not shocked by my candor. “Yeah. I am.”
“Why?” I don’t mean to sound so grossed out, but I think it came out that way. I’m just terrified. I’ve got my heart on a very tight leash. No exceptions.
“I’m…practicing.”
“Practicing,” I repeat, my eyes bouncing to the slash of his full lips and back up to his eyes in a moment of weakness. I wish the fact that he was covered in brownie mix was deterring. It’s not. I love brownies.
“Don’t you think it’s a good idea?” He’s talking so quiet, voice so gravelly. I feel lightheaded hearing his words this way. “We’re going to have to flirt in public, so we’ve got to get used to it for it to be convincing.”
I give that logical response the brilliant reply it deserves. “Uh-huh.”
A small chuckle rumbles from his chest. “You okay, Bree?” He sounds extra flirty now. Amused. And his lips are dangerously close to my brownie lipstick. Ahh! His hand is on my hip! When did that happen?! Wait a minute—are we going to kiss right now? Are two friends about to make out in this kitchen covered in brownie batter?
That’s when it hits me: this is an ego trip for him right now. He’s on a high after winning another playoff game, and I’m nothing but a little mouse for the big cat to play with in the kitchen. We don’t need to practice. He’s just being a flirty jerk and messing with me during his macho ego high. NOPE. That’s not going to happen. Just like I don’t want a pity relationship with him, I don’t want a well-she-was-there-and-it-was-convenient one-night fling either. Maybe he could handle something like that, but I couldn’t. Friends with benefits will never be a part of our description, because it would kill me for him to walk away from me after it’s all said and done. It’s all or nothing for me.
Nathan continues his game. “So let’s pretend we’re in public right now, and everyone is watching.” He’s still staring at my lips. “We’ve really got to sell it. If I said, Too bad I didn’t get to taste them, what would you say to that?”
I have the strongest willpower in all the land. I have a free pass to let Nathan Donelson taste the brownies right off my lips, and instead, I stick my hand in the batter, pull out a whole scoop, and smear it around his entire face until it completely hides his features. There. He’s Mud Man now.
I step back, wipe my hands on a kitchen towel, and smile proudly. “I’d say, Now you’ve got plenty to sample! Enjoy!”
I think he’s frowning under all that batter, but it’s hard to tell.
I turn away and flee the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, “I’m staying in the guest room tonight because it’s too late to walk home and no other reason!”
Boom. Status quo re-established. Friendship saved.
Completely normal. Everything is absolutely and completely normal. Just my normal friend Nathan and normal me hanging out on a normal day where everything is fine.
Except news flash: IT’S NOT FINE.
“Are you going to get in?” Nathan asks, standing outside the open door of the giant blacked-out SUV we’re going to ride in to get to the set of the commercial today. I’ve never ridden in it with him. Nathan only takes it to special events and places where he might need more privacy and security, places I refuse to go with him because those are things girlfriends do with him, not best friends.
Along with the nice man who’s going to drive me around like I’m the Queen of England, Nathan’s hulking bodyguard is sitting in the passenger seat waiting to jump out and…I don’t know, peel a rabid fan off of Nathan’s body if need be? This is an aspect of Nathan’s life I’m not used to.