The hardest part about having a male best friend is this right here. Nate’s perfect in every way but one. He makes me feel things, and then that’s it. Nothing happens. His fingers are magical. I’m not sure if foot rubs are supposed to be turn-ons, but dear God, is this one driving me crazy! Not that Nate looks at me that way. He probably has no idea of the effect he’s having on me. He’s so caught up in that girl. I wish I knew who she was. More so, I wish I could get her out of the picture. Maybe then, Nate would feel something different for me.

Maybe it’s the four Corona Lights I’ve had while we watch The Breakfast Club, but I’m suddenly dying to find out what Nate tastes like. I’ve always wondered. The fact that he’s gorgeous isn’t lost on me. He’s just always been my best friend. I don’t want to jeopardize that because I’m drunk and turned on at the moment. I have to clear my head and stop thinking this way.

Right?

But then Claire and Bender kiss at the end of the movie. If an unlikely pair like those two can wind up together, why not Nate and me? I turn to see him watching me instead of the movie. “What?” I ask, sitting up more. “Do I have food on my face?” More likely lime from the Corona.

“No. I thought you were sleeping.”

I laugh. “I might have dozed off for a bit. Your foot massages have that effect on me.” Why am I lying to him? His massages do the opposite of calming me down. I got on his case for lying, and now I’m doing the same thing.

“If you’d like, I could give it another go until you fall asleep.” He holds his hands out, waiting for me to place my feet in his lap.

“No, it’s okay. Let’s talk instead.”

“Okay.” His disappointment is evident on his face and in his voice.

“On second thought...” I put my feet in his lap, and he smiles, getting right to work. I lean my head back again, and the buzz I have going takes over, giving me a crazy idea. I reach both arms behind my head, knowing my shirt will lift. Nate’s eyes go to my bare stomach, and I have to suppress a smile. He reaches for his Corona, which is half full, and downs the rest of it. Hmm...maybe he doesn’t just see me as a friend. Or it could be the effects of the six beers he’s had.

I throw caution to the wind and reach my hand down toward his. It takes him a minute to realize what I’m doing, but then he laces his fingers through mine. My heart pounds because I’m not usually this bold and know I wouldn’t be if not for the Corona reigning over my judgment at the moment. I tug his hand.

Nate’s eyes widen. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Come here.”

“Where? There’s no room next to you.”

We’ve cuddled before. Of course that’s what he thinks I’m asking for. I tug his hand again. He moves awkwardly, trying to make room between me and the back of the couch. I reach for his waist and tug his belt loop, indicating I want him on top of me.

“Aria, you’re drunk,” he says, not giving in.

“So are you.”

“Which is why this is a bad idea.” He brushes back a strand of hair that’s wiggled free from my ponytail.

“Is it? Because it seems harmless and fun to me.”

He cocks his head. “What exactly are you thinking?”

“I miss this. Cuddling, making out. Would that be so wrong?”

“Is that the Corona talking?” he asks, but his mouth dips toward mine so there’s barely any space between our lips.

I nod, which makes my bottom lip brush against his. He moans, and the next thing I know, his mouth is on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and part my lips to let him inside. He moans again as his tongue finds mine. Then he pulls back and says, “Are you sure about this?”

“Very,” I say, tugging him back to me.

This time his lips trail across my jaw and to my neck. He finds my ticklish spot and I squirm, but he tilts my head away for better access. My fingers clench his sides, and I feel him respond and press against me.

His lips return to mine, and I kiss him like he’s the air I breathe. He tastes like lime, and I lick his lips.

“Do that again,” he says in a breathy voice.

“This?” I drag my tongue across his bottom lip.

He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and then gently bites down on it. With his lips alone, he’s making me feel things Aaron never did. We make out for an hour, our lips never parting. I can tell he’s afraid to let this go further, and frankly, so am I. Kissing while drunk can be chalked up to being drunk. Anything more and we might have to reevaluate our friendship, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

“Nate,” I say through swollen lips.

“Aria.” His lips brush mine one last time, and then he smiles at me.

“We should call it a night.”

Disappointment clouds his eyes, but he gently gets off me, sitting on the other end of the couch and looking like if he touched me again, we’d be heading for round two. “You’re probably right. Mind if I use your bathroom before I go?”

“You don’t have to ask.” I sit up, the effects of the Corona having worn off, but not the effects of Nate’s lips.

He gets up and walks to the bathroom next to the kitchen, and I lean back on the couch and sigh. I can’t let this get complicated. I know he’s crazy about someone else. I need to tell him it’s okay. That what just happened was a drunken moment of temporary insanity and it doesn’t have to change anything.

Except I want it to.

I don’t want this feeling to go away. I want to kiss Nate again. I want to know what it feels like to have those magical hands massage more than my feet.

“You’re out of soap,” Nate says, walking back into the living room.

I jump. “What?”

“I used the last of your hand soap. Sorry.”

Hand soap. I’m sitting here thinking about his lips on mine and he’s talking about hand soap? “I have more in the closet.”

“Okay, good. I guess I should go then.”

“Wait.” I hold my hand up to stop him, but I don’t know what else to say. I can’t tell him how I feel. It would ruin everything.

He stares at me, not saying a word.

“Thanks for dinner,” I say.

“No problem. I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night, okay?” He starts for the door, just like that.

“Sure,” I say, but he’s already gone.

What just happened?