Aria is quiet all through dinner, making me wonder if she overheard what Aaron and I were talking about. He called me out on my feelings for her. What if she’s freaked out because she knows the night meant more to me than I let on? I have to fix this.

“Any plans for tomorrow?” I ask, taking the last bite of my chicken Alfredo, the cream sauce making my stomach churn. I put my fork down and push the plate away.

“I was thinking of going shopping with Ashley. You?” She sips her Pinot Grigio and averts her eyes, reminding me of someone on a really bad first date.

Time for damage control. “I was thinking of asking out that girl I told you about.”

Her head jerks in my direction. “Seriously?”

I nod. “I think I need to see if I can make it work.”

She takes another sip of wine. “That’s good.”

“I hate to harp on a sore subject, but are you okay with running into Aaron the way we did? You seem like something’s bothering you, and I can’t help thinking that’s it.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table.

“His date was in the restroom with me. I really wanted to warn her about him, but she was such a...” She shakes her head and stares into her wine glass.

“Bitch?” I supply the word she doesn’t want to say.

“I think she thought I was trying to steal her man or something.” She rolls her eyes. “As if.” She lifts her wine glass, but it’s empty.

I scan the restaurant for the waiter, spotting him near the bar. I raise my hand and gesture to Aria’s glass. He nods in response.

“I was surprised he approached me. He seems like maybe he’s not quite over you,” I say, testing her to see if she really is over him.

She scoffs. “He thought I wasn’t good enough for him because I was a staff writer. If he found out that’s all I am again now, he’d back off. Trust me.”

The waiter comes over with another glass of wine for Aria and another Corona for me. “I thought you might like another as well, sir,” he says, placing the glass in front of me. “On the house.”

“Thank you.” I make a mental note to leave him a nice tip.

“Dessert? We have a large dessert menu that I could bring you.” He looks back and forth between Aria and me.

Aria shrugs. “I’m always in for a slice of cheesecake.”

“Our specialty is strawberry swirl cheesecake,” the waiter says.

“Two pieces, please,” I tell him.

He nods and walks away, leaving me to pick up with the conversation about Aaron.

“Are you annoyed Aaron wouldn’t want you back because of your position?”

“How could I not be?” She cocks her head at me as she brings her wine to her lips. I watch her mouth part as she takes a sip. She waves her hand in the air, trying to encourage a response from me.

I take a drink to buy myself some time to formulate an answer. “Why do you care what he thinks if you don’t have feelings for him anymore?”

“Do you care what your mystery girl thinks of you?” Her fingers play with the stem of her wine glass, but her blue eyes are locked on mine.

“Of course, but I admit I care about her. It’s different.” Very different.

She leans back in her chair. “I know it shouldn’t matter, but I want him to regret ending the relationship. I want him to realize he was an ass.”

“You want to win the breakup.” I smile, remembering the game we used to play in college whenever one of us broke up with someone. We’d figure out who won the breakup, the dumper or the dumpee.

Her eyes sparkle, and I know she’s remembering it, too. “Do you remember Joel?”

“How could I forget? When you won that writing contest and his piece didn’t even place in the top ten, he was furious. He broke up with you and went on a tirade. Everyone thought he’d lost it, and then he blew his chance at an internship with that paper in Chicago.”

“And I landed the job with Priority News.”

“The job he mocked but secretly applied for.” I laugh at the memory.

“Yeah, but if he saw me at work this week, Joel would be the one laughing. Promoted and demoted within a matter of days.” She lets out a long breath and then indulges in more wine.

“You fell victim to nepotism. It had nothing to do with talent or ability to do the job. You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”

After another long sip, she says, “New topic. Where are you taking Mystery Girl?”

I can’t give too many details, one because I hate lying to her and two because it will make it easier to get caught lying. “Not sure yet. I have to see if she’s even up for it.”

“You said she was gone.”

“Two strawberry swirl cheesecakes,” the waiter says, placing the plates in front of us. “I took the liberty of also bringing you coffee.” He motions to the server standing behind him with two steaming cups.

Aria shrugs and finishes the last of her wine, and I do the same with my Corona. Once the waiters are both gone, I dig in, hoping Aria will be too preoccupied with the cheesecake to grill me further.

“This is delicious,” I say, motioning for her to try it.

“Did Mystery Girl go out of town for a while or something?” she asks before taking a bite.

I groan inwardly. “Not exactly. She sort of thinks we’re better off as friends.” That’s as close to the truth as I can get.

“Why?” She covers her mouth, which is full of cheesecake, and laughs. “Sorry. This is good.”

“Then eat. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I want to. You obviously care about her.” Her laughter dies, making me cock my head and wonder why.

What the hell? I’m diving right in. “How much can I really care about her, considering”—I lean forward and whisper—“the way you and I made out?”

“So you feel guilty.” It’s not a question.

“Yes. I feel like I screwed things up, and not just with her.” My eyes rise to meet hers, even though my head is lowered to my plate.

“We’re good. I promise. We were drunk.” She laughs, but it’s forced. “I told Ashley, and she thought we were becoming friends with benefits.”

“You told Ashley?” Why would she do that?

She forks off another bite of cheesecake. “It’s only Ashley. It’s not like she’ll tell anyone. Well, other than Neil.” She waves the fork in the air in a “whatever” gesture.

“What did you say? About the friends with benefits part?” I hope I don’t sound too eager to hear her answer. I don’t want to be friends with benefits, but maybe if she’s open to that idea, she’ll be open to taking this further.

She eats her cheesecake in silence, and I’m about to repeat the question when she puts down her fork and meets my gaze. “I’m not looking for that. You don’t have to worry. And I heard what Aaron said at Last Call. I know he’s way off base. Just like Ashley. You and I are best friends. I love that. And now that I think about it, Aaron wasn’t entirely wrong. I love you, Nate, and I know you love me. The problem is most people can’t understand that. They see the way we are with each other, and they assume we’re sleeping together. But the truth is, we are so much closer than that.”

God, if she says we’re like siblings, I’m going to drive this fork through my eye socket.

“Aaron never liked how close we were. I always suspected he was jealous of you.”

Which is insane since he was the one sharing her bed. Touching her.

“Tell you what,” I say, wanting to stop her from continuing the conversation. “No more talk of exes or future relationships.” I hold up my coffee mug. “To us. Aria and Nate, the way we’re supposed to be.”

“To us.” She clinks her mug against mine and smiles at me, without a clue as to what I really mean.

After we finish dessert, we head back to her place at my suggestion. I won’t lie and say I’m not hoping for a repeat of the other night. I am. All I’ve thought about since then is her lips. How full and pouty they are. The way her mango lip gloss tastes.

“Movie or TV?” she asks, removing her sweater and tossing it on the arm of the couch.

“TV is fine,” I say, grabbing two Corona Lights from the fridge. “Remind me to restock your beer supply. You’re getting low.” I spend more time at her place than mine now that she’s single, and I don’t want to be a freeloader.

“Will do. Friends reruns okay with you?” She sits down on the couch, curling her legs up under her. She runs a hand through her hair, messing up her blond locks.

“Sure.” I hand her a Corona and sit next to her, my arm draped along the back of the couch behind her. She leans her head against it and then turns and sniffs me.

“Since when do you wear cologne?”

“I’m not. It’s my shower gel.”

She leans in and breathes deeply, making every hair on my body stand on end. “I like it.”

God, do I like it that she’s smelling me. I tilt my head down, and when she looks up at me she turns bright red.

“I’m sorry. I swear I’m going through withdrawal or something.” She takes a drink and faces the TV.

“Withdrawal?” Is she talking about sex? “How so?”

“It’s nothing. Forget it.”

I let my arm fall across her shoulders and give her arm a squeeze. “No, tell me. I want to know.”

She wiggles her toes, showing her nerves. “Guy smell. Not sweaty or ‘in need of a shower,’ but the freshly showered and ‘ready to face the world’ smell.” She faces me again. “That’s what you smell like right now.”

“Does it remind you of Aaron?” If so, I’m changing shower gels.

She shakes her head and starts playing with the hem of her dress. “No. Not really.”

She doesn’t offer any more, and I let it go. We sit in silence, watching TV and laughing at the jokes we know so well we could recite the lines for the cast. In the episode, Joey is secretly in love with Rachel. He tries to tell himself he’s not, but as soon as he sees her he refers to her as his girlfriend in his mind. I know how he feels. I’m torn between my friend Aria and wanting her to be my girlfriend Aria.

We each down three more Coronas, leaving me more buzzed than I’d like, considering I have to drive home.

Aria eyes me as I sit forward, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. “You okay?” she asks, rubbing a hand in circles on my back. Her touch is electric against the thin material of my dress shirt.

I turn my head to face her. “I’m not sure I should drive.”

“You can crash here.” Her hand stills on my back, but she doesn’t remove it. Maybe it’s the Corona talking—I lost count of how many I’ve had between the restaurant and here—but I swear she’s giving me that look again. The one she had last night before she kissed me.

“Here on your couch?” I ask, turning slightly to face her.

“Wherever you’re comfortable.” Her voice is soft and low.

“You’re drunk again.” In the years I’ve known her, she hasn’t been drunk often. Now it’s been twice in two nights. I hope it’s really over the job and not Aaron.

“Maybe.” She leans closer to me, resting her leg against mine. She places her hand on my thigh and starts rubbing up and down, from my knee to almost the top of my quad.

“What are you doing, Aria?”

“Want another drink? I mean, if you’re staying, it’s not a problem.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk off my ass?” Does she think that’s why I kissed her last night? That I wouldn’t kiss her otherwise?

She starts to stand, but when she takes a step around me, her leg tangles with mine and she falls on top of me.

“Hey there,” I say, my hands on her waist.

She smiles, her face inches from mine. “Hey.” She makes no effort to get up. Instead, she seems to be pressing her weight down on my lap.

“I’m not a saint, so if you want me to be the good guy, you’re going to need to get off my lap.” Despite my words, I don’t loosen my grip on her.

She shimmies a bit, and my body responds, which makes her eyes widen. “I think I’m starting to like Ashley’s idea,” she says.

I like any idea that involves my lips on her body right now. “On a scale from one to ten, how drunk are you?”

“Eight at most.”

I’m guessing ten is “passed out” and nine is “babbling idiot.” Eight sounds about right. My heartbeat quickens as I cup the back of her head. “Eight is still pretty drunk.”

“Not too drunk to know I want to do this.” She brings her knees up so they are straddling me on the couch.

God damn it! How am I supposed to resist this? I’m not sure it’s physically possible.

“Nate?” The way she says my name breaks my heart, like she’s begging me not to turn her down.

“I’m afraid to do the wrong thing here, Aria. I don’t want you to hate me in the morning.” And I don’t want her to forget sleeping with me either. She doesn’t seem to be that drunk, though. It’s like this situation is sobering us both up.

“I could never hate you.”

For a moment I consider coming clean about my mystery girl and testing that theory, but Aria wraps her arms around my neck and nuzzles her face against my collarbone.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re all I have,” she mumbles.

That’s a lot of pressure. I’m not sure I’m man enough to be everything to her. I want to be, though. I want her to be able to depend on me, to come to me for comfort, to let me love her the way she deserves to be loved.

“This week has been hell. I want to forget the world for the night. I want to...” She raises her head and looks at me.

I nod, knowing exactly what she wants, because I want it to. I cup her head again and bring her lips to mine. She moans as my tongue enters her mouth and dances with hers. I’ve never felt so at ease with and yet so aroused by a woman before. Aria makes me feel like I’m floating and on fire at the same time. My hands trail down the back of her sundress, finding the zipper. I pull back slightly to look into her eyes. She smiles and kisses me again.

It’s like the entire world has stopped and it’s just the two of us in this moment. My mouth leaves hers and places soft kisses on her neck as I slide the zipper down on her dress. She stands up, letting the dress fall to the floor so she’s in nothing more than her matching lavender panties and strapless bra. I take in her full image, memorizing it in case she decides this is a one-time event and can’t ever happen again.

She reaches her hand out for mine and leads me to her bedroom. With every step, I expect her to change her mind, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t bother with the lights. Instead, she sits down on the bed and pulls me on top of her. She starts undoing the buttons on my shirt as my hands explore her body. It takes her longer than it should because she’s distracted by my caresses. I lower my mouth to her breasts, and she cries out, cupping my head in one hand and trying to remove my shirt with the other. I help her by shrugging out of the shirt. Then I return to her nipple as my hand lowers between her legs.

Her wetness undoes me, but before things go too far, I look directly into her eyes. She tries to turn away, but I bring her chin back to me with my free hand. “You don’t ever have to be embarrassed with me.”

I kiss her mouth, her neck, and then her stomach, my fingers never pausing in their efforts. By the time I’m undressed and slipping inside her, she’s already crying out in ecstasy.