He steps toward me, but I’m still spinning in a circle, one arm tightly strapped to my body and the other stuck at my waist, both hands flapping uselessly as I try to get myself free.
“Hold still if you want me to help,” he says, still laughing. He grabs the hand near my waist, stopping my futile spins. “One sec.”
Once I’ve stopped spinning around, Johnny makes quick work of fixing my problem.
“There. You’re free.”
“Thank you,” I say, straightening my shirt. “I was putting my sunblock on when you knocked and I somehow got myself all tangled up when I tried to put my shirt on too quickly.”
“Aww babe. You know you don’t need to get all dressed up for me. I think you look amazing in whatever you wear.”
Hearing him call me babe reminds of our little arrangement, sending a flutter of excitement through my belly. We’ve already set up some ground rules, like not letting feelings get involved, making sure our friendship remains intact, and not having sex.
So what if we’ve already broken a couple of rules? As long as I hold firm on not letting my feelings get involved, I should make it out of this situation unscathed.
At least, I hope I do.
