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Thirteen

Sunlight streamed through Nolan's bedroom window. I awoke disoriented for half a second before everything came rushing back.

The kiss in the hallway. The ties.

Holy shit.

I'd slept with Nolan.

My best friend. The guy who knew I hated mornings almost as much as I loved coffee. Who'd been there through every breakup, every triumph, every mundane Tuesday for the better part of two decades.

And now I was naked in his bed.

The sheets smelled like him—cedar and soap and something indefinably Nolan—and I pulled them higher. My sundress was somewhere on his floor. My bra dangled from the doorknob like a flag of surrender.

"You're awake."

I turned my head to find him propped on one elbow, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. No regret, thank God. But not his usual easy confidence either.

"How long have you been staring at me?" I asked, my voice rough with sleep.

"Long enough to memorize the way you look in my bed." The corner of his mouth lifted. "Debating whether I should be a gentleman and make you breakfast or keep you here all day."

Heat flooded my cheeks. This version of Nolan, who said things like that without blinking, was going to take some getting used to.

"Coffee first," I said. "Then we can negotiate."

He laughed, that warm familiar sound, and some of the tension in my chest loosened. This was still my Nolan.

"Deal."

Twenty minutes later, I sat at his kitchen table in one of Nolan’s t-shirts and my underwear, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee made exactly how I liked it. Two sugars. splash of cream. He'd been making my coffee for years.

The normalcy of it should have been comforting. Instead, it made everything feel more surreal. Nolan set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me, then took the seat across from me rather than beside me. The distance felt deliberate.

"So," he said, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"So."

"This is the part where we're supposed to talk about what this means, right? That's how it works in your books?"

I nearly choked on my eggs. "You really did read them."

"Three of them, actually. Figured I should do some research." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "So. Are we dating now? Because I'd say we definitely skipped a few steps."

Laughing, I nearly choked out some eggs. Leave it to Nolan to be practical even about this.

"I don't know," I admitted. "What do you want?"

"You. However I can have you." He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine. "But I'm not interested in casual, Lena. Not with you."

My pulse quickened with implications. "Neither am I."

"Good." He threaded his fingers through mine, and the simple touch sent warmth spreading through my chest. "Then we're doing this. For real."

"For real," I echoed, testing the words. They felt right. Terrifying, but right.

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, but I could feel his eyes on me. Studying. Waiting.