I shrug.
She tilts her head. “What about Brandon?”
The question blindsides me. “What?”
“Brandon. You've said he's hot. And funny. And sweet. And I'm sure he could give you the good sex you're after.”
“He's my friend.”
Natalie raises one shoulder, unbothered. “So?”
“So, he's Brandon. We watchLove Islandand eat sushi off paper towels. It's not like that.”
She gives me a look. “I'm just saying, if he looked at me the way he looks at you, I'd have climbed him like a tree ages ago.”
My stomach flips. I brush it off. “It's not Brandon.”
“Then who?”
I hesitate. There's a beat of silence. Then I take a sip of my coffee and say, “His name's Mason. He lives in my building.”
Natalie sits back, her eyes lighting up with interest. “Ohhh. The hallway crush.”
I nod miserably. “I keep running into him, and I keep embarrassing myself. I saw him in the elevator last week, and I couldn't even say hi. Just stood there like a deer in headlights.”
“I'm sure it wasn't that bad.”
“Brandon even asked me what the hell my problem was,” I tell her as my head falls into my hands in dramatic fashion.
She shrugs. “So, ask him out.”
I shake my head. “Natalie, you don't understand. This man is…he's Superman hot—David Corenswet version—and I turn into a mute statue every time I see him.”
“Have you seen you?” she shoots back. “Stella, you're gorgeous, successful, funny when you're not overthinking yourself into paralysis. Any man would be lucky to have your attention.”
“You're biased.”
“Absolutely, I am, but that doesn't make me wrong. Here's a crazy idea—you could just knock on his door and ask if he wants to go grab coffee.”
I nearly choke on my latte. “I couldn't. There's no way I have the nerve for that.”
“Why not? What's the worst that could happen?”
“He could say no, and then I'd have to move out of the building in shame.”
“Or he could say yes, and you could stop torturing yourself with elevator small talk, or in your case, no talk.”
I'm quiet for a minute. “There is one thing I've been thinking about.”
She waits for me to continue, and when I don't, she puts her hand out and motions for me to go on.
“Last night, I made a comment to Brandon that I wish I had his confidence.”
“Yeah, we all do.”
“He said something about giving me lessons.”
She leans forward and rests her chin on her hand. “What kind of lessons?”
