“You know, helping each other out,” I say patiently, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. “You’re gay, and the spell made me attracted to you, so why not take advantage of it? It’s efficient.”
Colten’s entire body goes rigid.
Hm. Not the reaction I was going for.
The earlier lightness disappears, and my stomach feels heavier with every passing moment that Colten doesn’t relax, doesn’t understand.
“So we can just, well, you know, hook up, blow off some steam together.” The more I explain, the stiffer he seems to get. I feel nauseous as cold sweat breaks out over my back.
I was so sure this idea was perfect, but Colten looks…wrong.
His face is pale, his mouth parting slightly before he presses it shut again, like whatever he was about to say got caught somewhere on the way out.
Or like he doesn’t trust himself to say it.
“It’s perfect,” I insist, sure that if I explain it better, he’ll get it. “We’re best friends, so there’s no awkward dating stuff, no expectations. Just helping each other out until we find people we actually want to date.”
Colten suddenly stands, and I blink up at him.
His expression has completely changed, the warmth gone, and no trace of his glow left.
“What?” I ask, pushing up onto my elbows as my nausea gets worse with our sudden distance. “Colten, what’s wrong?”
He looks absolutely furious. Not annoyed, not irritated, but angrier than he’s even been with me.
The last time I saw him anywhere near this angry was when he found out about his father’s cheating.
“Are you joking right now?” His voice is quiet, too quiet, like if he speaks any louder, he might scream.
“…No?” What is going on?? Colten’s been upset with me, sure, angry, yeah, but…he’s never looked at me like this, like…
Like he’s disgusted by me.
I shiver, cold from the lack of his body heat and also because I am still not wearing a shirt.
“We’re best friends,” I say, standing up and crossing my arms over my chest, feeling oddly self-conscious. “Isn’t this like…ideal?”
Colten’s hands curl into fists so tightly they shake at his sides.
For a second, I think he might actually punch me.
“Colten?” I say carefully.
He looks at me, his eyes sharp and completely unfamiliar.
“I told you before,” he says, each word tight, controlled like he’s forcing them out through clenched teeth, “I don’t do temporary. I don’t do this sort of thing just for fun.”
“I remember,” I say quickly, stepping toward him. “But we’re best friends, so it’s not temporary. We’ll always be best friends.”
Colten just stares at me, before he laughs once, but there’s no humor in it. It lands somewhere between disbelief and…hurt.
Then he turns and walks away.
“Colten!”
He doesn’t stop.
“Colten, wait!”
