A hint of a smile crosses her lips. “Careful, Chase. This might go to my head.”
I tilt my head and blink my eyes slowly at her attempt to be funny when I’m trying to be serious. “It can’t happen again. There’s too much at stake to let it happen again. I never want to hurt you or ruin any kind of friendship we have, as dysfunctional as it may be.”
I can barely believe I’m even admitting any of this shit out loud right now. If I wasn’t going to see her so often, I probablywould’ve just kept it to myself, but knowing she’s going to be around more, the right thing to do was get it out.
“We are pretty dysfunctional.” She laughs. “But you don’t owe me an apology.”
Both of us are silent for a moment before she asks, “Out of curiosity, though, why exactly can’t it happen again?”
“Because it can’t. For lack of a better term, you’re my babysitter. A babysitter who CeCe loves and I can’t screw that up for her.”
She scoffs at my reasoning. I know she’s thinking it's a pathetic excuse. Maybe she’s right, but it’s also more than that. It’s the fact that I’ve known her for over twenty years, the fact that she’s my sister’s best friend, things could get messy with Summer and I don’t want the mess. I’ve done messy and it’s fucking hell.
“So, you enjoyed my company and you want to kiss me… but you don’t want yourself to kiss me, so you’re just simply… not going to kiss me again? Do I have that right?”
I nod.
“That easy?” Her voice lowers.
“That easy,” I say firmly, hoping to convince both her and myself.
The glimmer in Summer’s eye has me questioning everything I just laid out between us. But facts are facts, and I let myself get caught up in a moment and kissed the one person I shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter that it was the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had or the most relaxed I’d felt in a conversation in forever. Itcan’thappen again.
“I respect it, but a piece of advice, Chase. It doesn’t hurt to give in to the things you want sometimes.” She shrugs as she walks past me and out the door.
Summer likes to question me and make me think twice about everything. To her, nothing is black and white, she livesin the gray areas. She’s so comfortable in the unknown and the possibility of what could be. She’s always open to new ideas and ways of thinking, whereas I feel like I live by a fucking right and wrong list most of the time. A golden rule book that lays things out clearly. To me things are cut and dry—have a problem? Here’s the obvious solution. But Summer thrives in the gray and looks at things differently.
I’m not sure what to expect as I wait for Summer to get here this morning. I haven’t seen her since the barbeque; although, I’ve thought about her every damn day.
As far as I’m concerned, I just need to go back to how things were before we kissed and focus on how many of her quirks bother me versus intrigue me.
There are a few taps at the door and CeCe goes flying into the foyer.
“Hey, we don’t open the door without a grown up,” I say as I’m walking to keep up with her strides.
Summer floats in once the door is opened, blonde hair pulled away from her face with a headband and a pair of leggings with a t-shirt hanging down to the middle of her thighs. I stop myself from doing a full scan of her body as she stands in front of me, a boastful smile already on her face as she catches me stopping myself.
“Good morning.” She beams, walking past me and following CeCe into the kitchen.
My temples are already throbbing, along with another part of my body that I don’t appreciate right now.
“Morning,” I call after she’s long gone, but her coconut scent seems to have lingered and is infiltrating my senses.
“Smells good in here,” she says once I’m in the kitchen.
The coffee maker is brewing another pot, and I notice Summer pulls a protein bar from her purse.
“There’s food here, you can make yourself whatever you’d like.” I gesture to the pantry.
“Oh, I know. But I like these bars. Plus, I’m sure we’ll make some grilled cheese within the hour.” She covers her lips before continuing. “A brunch, if you will.”
“I love brunch!” CeCe says from the opposite side of the table.
“Oh, do you now?” My eyes go wide.
“Summer always makes brunch,” CeCe reveals, and my eyes dart to Summer standing against the counter, half eaten protein bar in her hand.
“What does she make for brunch?” My question is directed at CeCe, but I stare at Summer.
