She fits into my side like she was meant to be here. I should’ve left. Hell, I never should’ve come over, but I wanted to see Aarabelle. Well, that’s the bullshit I keep telling myself. The truth is I missed Natalie.

And that makes me a douchebag.

“This movie is so dumb,” she mutters next to me.

Some women should get a handbook on movies men will never hate. This would be one. “Top Gun” would be another. That movie has hot chicks and bad ass Navy shit. “It would be a lot better if you weren’t complaining,” I reply, thankful for the distraction.

“Asshole,” she mumbles under her breath, but then wraps her arm around my stomach.

I want to give a smartass comeback, but I don’t want her to move. The feel of her body against mine makes me want more. It’s wrong on so many levels. I’m breaking the ultimate man-code, but I can’t stop myself. I can only hope that Aaron would want her to be with someone like me. The fuck if I know why I’m even thinking about any of this…she doesn’t want me. She wants her husband, and I’m just her asshole friend who won’t go away.

Natalie’s arm rubs against my stomach and I try to stop the hard-on forming.

Nuns.

Spiders.

Justin Bieber.

Grandma.

I shudder from that last one, but thankfully that did it.

I would never be able to explain my dick getting hard from this freaking movie. She’d know for sure what’s up. Her fucking hand being that close to my junk causes me to have to breathe through the list again. I need to focus and stop thinking.

The movie plays on and she begins laughing at it instead of letting me know how stupid everything is.

“See, I told you. Comedic gold.” I lean back a little more and smirk at her.

She looks at me and then looks away quickly. I saw it though, the way she stared at my lips a little longer than a beat.

Natalie shakes her head and when she looks back at me, she has her mask firmly in place. “When I force you to watch ‘Pitch Perfect’ or ‘The Notebook,’ we’ll see how you feel about cinematic gold.”

“You’ll have to tie me down and gag me to make that shit happen, sweetheart. The only chick movie I’ll ever watch is ‘Lethal Weapon,’” I reply smugly.

“First of all, ‘Lethal Weapon’ is not a chick flick.” She stays put, but I feel her stir. Natalie is easy to wind up. When she gets heated, I see a piece of her old self coming back. Not this fake happy bullshit.

“I have to disagree.” My hand falls and rests on her back.

“You would.”

“You just fail to see the epic romance.”

Natalie scoffs, “You’re an idiot. There’s no romance at all! It’s two cops trying to not get fired.”

I laugh and pull her close, “Mel Gibson is trying to get what’s-her-face to be with him.”

“That’s a subplot. It’s not even the basis of the movie.”

“Total chick flick. I win.” I grin knowing that I have absolutely no argument. It was just the first movie I thought of and I’m totally grasping at straws.

She lets out a deep sigh. “I give up. You can’t fix stupid.”

I’ll let her slide on that one—this time.

My fingers start to rub her back as we both quiet down and return to watching the movie. I don’t even notice I’m doing it until I feel her tense. Her breathing stops and she sits up. Which further proves my point about her not wanting me.

“Want something to drink or maybe popcorn?” she asks.

The way she tucks her hair behind her ear, her eyes looking at the floor, and her perfect lip in her teeth shows me everything. She needs to get away and gain some distance.

“Popcorn would be great.”

I need some distance myself.