“Pollo, I swear to all that’s holy. If you chuck that thing at me, I’ll stab you.”
I believe her. Shrinking away from the offensive fabric, I nod. “That’s fair. So, I was thinking. You, me, a real date. I’ll pick you up, flowers, dinner and a movie, ice cream. I’ll get strawberry, and you’ll get that gross butterscotch crap you like. We can sit with our frozen treats while you fall low-key in love with me, watching the cars go by and talking about life. Perhaps a kiss good night... on your clit.”
Shrugging, I try to hide my racing heart behind a wall of nonchalance. I’ve never asked my best friend out on a real date before. But I want her to know that I don’t expect us to fall into routine and comfortable silences simply because we’ve known each other for our whole lives. And I’m worried about her. She barely leaves the house, she’s becoming more and more reclusive, and I hate that for her.
She gives me the softest smile. I should have waited until I was less smelly before having this discussion. I’ve realized the error of my ways because I have an overwhelming urge to kiss her fucking freckly face right now.
“You’ll bring me more flowers?” She points at the vase on the coffee table with her controller. “But you only brought those yesterday.”
Shrugging again, I’m failing to play it cool. “You like flowers.”
“This is true.” Her cheeks are pinking, and it’s the most adorable fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
“One thing, though?”
I jerk my chin at her to continue.
“I can’t low-key fall in love with you.”
My heart sinks, my stomach plummets, and a chill consumes my entire body.
She stands up, drops her controller onto the couch, and hobbles over to where I’m standing. “I can’t low-key fall in love with you.” She cups my face, her grey eyes piercing into me. “Because I’m already high-key in love with you, Apollo. Total-key, head over heels in love with you.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m still scared. But once I set aside the fear. It’s always been you,príncipe de las tinieblas. Siempre has sido tú. How did we never notice?”
Tears well in her eyes as she plants a chaste kiss on my lips before dipping her forehead to rest on my chin with a giggle. “You smell so fucking bad, Pollo.”
Tipping her head back, I meet her eyes again with an intense stare of my own. “You know I love you, right? Like shave your legs for you, give you the last piece of pie, and wear his-and-hers matching outfits kind of love, right? The real shit, not that fake Hollywood, swoony eyed bullshit. The lasting kind.”
She nods. “I know.”
“And not because of the crash, or because my dad’s acabrón, but because I’m head-over-heels in love with you, Edie.”
She bites her lip, and something inside me cracks as her eyes fill with tears again. “I know, Apollo. The big, scary kind of love.”
The weight on my chest lifts. Her eyes tell me that she gets it. Not only does she understand and feel my love for her, she feels it too. Fuck. My girl loves me.
She smacks my arm. “Take your goofy ass to the shower and scrub that stink off so we can... y’know...”
Gasping, I fan myself. “Edith Fisher. Do you mean…” I drop my voice. “Sex?”
Shoving both my shoulders, she sways on her feet. “Go, before I change my mind and make you do all the other stuff you listed before I let you take me to bed.” She turns and squints at the vase of flowers. “Now I think about it, I could maybe use some fresh flowers.”
My shoulders relax when I hold my hands up. “Gimme fifteen.”
“You have ten. Then I’m getting my vibrator.”
My dick likes that idea, but there’s no way she’s using a machine to get off tonight.
“I’ve seen your STD screening report from your last physical, too. If you’re down for it...” She sees all of my reports, all of my mail, we have no lines, and for the most part no secrets. Her face is red, and her voice shakes, but my dick has already made the connection and is rising like a flag on a fucking flagpole.
“Bareback?”
She nods.
“I fucking love you.” I grab her for another quick kiss, but she presses her hands against my chest.
“Shower. Now.”
As I back away from her, I throw her some finger guns, because what else can a man whose best friend just told him she loves him do?
