* * *
Holy fuck.Holy fuck.
Holy.
Fuck!
I pace my bedroom as Lia gets changed at her apartment. After we left the bakery, we went to our favorite pizza place, ordered two large pizzas—one sausage with onions, the other pineapple and pepperoni—ran by the store for two twelve-packs of Angry Orchard, and then came straight home. She said she was going to take a quick rinse in the shower, because she felt gross after being in the bakery, and change.
Which leaves me here, staring at my phone, waiting for my brothers to text me back.
Finally, my phone dings, and I swipe at it to read the message.
JP:Wait, she broke up with him right there in the bakery, ring and all? Holy shit.
I type back in a fury just as my phone dings with another message, this one from Huxley.
Huxley:Wow. I have nothing to say other than wow.
Breaker:Yeah, tell me about it. I was in awe, and my nipples got hard.
JP:I appreciate a hard nipple on a man. Shows me that he registers with his emotions.
Huxley:You need help.
JP:Just telling it like it is.
Breaker:Can we not go on a tangent? I have minutes before she comes over, and I need to know what to do.
Huxley:What do you mean you need to know what to do? She just broke up with her fiancé and called her wedding off. You do nothing. You be a friend.
JP:Uh yeah, dude. Were you thinking about making a move? That’s fucking tacky as shit. Give her a second to mourn before you go sniffing around, letting her know you want to bone.
Breaker:First of all, I just don’t want to bone. Second of all, I’m already keeping my self-control on a short leash. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
Huxley:Don’t fucking do anything. Jesus, that would be terrible timing.
JP:Yeah. Real bad, man. What do you want to be, the rebound guy? Fuck, no. Give her a moment to figure it all out.
Breaker:Yeah . . . fuck, I think you’re right.
Huxley:Of course we are.
JP:Seriously, nothing else. You don’t want to ruin anything. Tread carefully, and when the time is right, strike!
Breaker:Okay . . . just a little bit longer, that’s all I have to keep telling myself. Oh shit, she just came over. Talk to you later.
I set my phone on my nightstand and then head out to the living room, where Lia hovers over the pizza boxes wearing a pair of black-and-green buffalo plaid flannel shorts and a white tank top that shows off an inch of her midriff. And her black lace bra is as visible as they come, making my mouth water.
She’s worn this outfit around me several times, but now, it feels like it’s my undoing.
I want to do so much to that outfit, to the woman wearing it.
I want to slip my hands under the crop top. I want to run my fingers along the lace. I want to drag those shorts down, revealing whatever she’s wearing underneath.
But the boys are right. I would be stupid if I attempted anything at this point. I need to keep things neutral. Friendly.
Platonic.
