“Too far.” I scoot my body closer to her. No space is left between us, but itfeelslike there’s too much space. Her hand traces down my arm, to the cuff of my wrist, where she shoves her hand up my sleeve. I don’t ever want to move.
“You’re too lazy?”
“No. Just don’t want to leave you.”
“It’s twenty feet, at most.”
“Too far.”
Rosalie laughs. Hearing it is one thing. But feeling the way her body rocks with it, and the vibrations of joy going through her chest, makes it ten times more fulfilling. I don’t know how I’m ever going to leave this damn couch.
“Five minutes.” I say into her hair half-heartedly.
“Okay, fine.” She agrees before scooting closer to me, even if already pressed together.
The fall film is still playing in the background. The main character’s voice gets lost behind the soft pitter patter of rain against the windows and Rosie’s steady breaths against my neck.
Before drifting off, my eyes open just a smidge. To see the girl on screen, speaking to her love interest, neither of which resemble Rosie or I in my imagination.
I don’t have to fantasize about the two of us in a love story anymore. In my university dorm, with apple oatmeal cookies on the stove and the girl of my dreams in my arms, I’ve managed to make my own.
nineteen
ROSIE
“Oh my gosh.This is how you felt.” Liliana is pacing back and forth—smiling so wide it looks painful, one hand on her chest and the other gripping the side of her head.
The café is appropriately decorated for the Halloween season. There are small plastic pumpkins sitting on Caramel & Latte’s short windowsills, and faux autumn leaves lining the ceiling. The bats hanging above the front door exist solely to garner attention, yet Liliana is stealing the show.
She grabs onto my ribbed brown sweater and shakes my arm.
“When I told you Grant and I finally kissed. This is how you felt.”
I’ve told her about kissing many guys throughout our years of friendship. None of them ever garnered such a wide grin paired with equally wide eyes. It must be shock and giddiness running through her.
I press the back of my hand into my cheeks to cool them down. “Yeah.”
“Holy shit!” The café-goers closest to us look at her with raised eyebrows. Her red-haired coworker even glances over in question, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Oh my gosh.”
“Do you… have anything to say?”
I’m really asking,Are you mad at me?
She shouldn’t be. I would guess she’s happy for me. But my friendship with her means so much, I feel the need to double-check, just in case.
Liliana takes her seat across the table, places her baby blue-clad arms on the wood, and leans in to whisper, “Are you two having sex?!”
“Lil! You work here!”
“I’m off the clock.” The knitted fabric flaps around when she waves her hand. Her question doesn’t paint her as angry, but her face scrunches up in disgust. “Wait. Don’t tell me. He’s really starting to feel like my little brother, and that’s so gross to think about.”
I laugh. Maybe I should be shaken by that sentiment, but I’m not. The thought of dating my best friend’s “brother” doesn’t bother me if said brother has a heart of gold, caring green eyes, and a protective six-three frame.
Kisses that make me feel like he’ll die if he doesn’t get another taste.
Liliana’s hand squeezing mine takes me out of the memory of that night.
“You’re daydreaming about him!”
