Dimples would be the death of me.

Okay, probably not the actual death of me. Also, not just any dimples, but Mitch’s dimples in particular. They were dangerous. Not just because they were mesmerizing, which they were, but also because they happened to be attached to my best friend.

My very male and very single best friend.

We sat together at the local coffee shop, Beans & Things, trying to stay warm. It was February in Idaho. The weather was stupid cold and hot lattes always made me happy.

The shop had a whimsical feel to it that was in direct conflict with the weather outside. Instead of regular booths or tables, metal bistro sets painted different cheerful colors filled the space. Between the seating and the hanging plants that decorated the windows, it felt like a magical garden that happened to serve coffee. When I wasn’t here with my other best friend, Katie, I could usually persuade Mitch to come with me.

Today, he had been the one to invite me out. He said he had some news he wanted to share. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, buying a new baseball cap was sometimes considered news to him. Regardless, when he wanted get together, I usually came running. Especially, if that meant a caffeine fix.

Mitch was a good looking guy. His dark hair was always styled in a way that made it appear that he had just rolled out of bed. I knew better. His green eyes always promised mischief. Unfortunately, it was his mouth that caused my brain to turn to literal mush.

Every. Single. Time.

As he talked, I couldn’t keep my eyes from the two indentions on either side of his mouth. The way they moved with each word he spoke was fascinating. When he closed his lips together, they would deepen. Other words he spoke would make them disappear altogether. How was it even possible?

It didn’t matter how much time I spent watching them, I was newly fascinated every time he moved his lips. They begged for attention I was unable to deny. So much so, I hadn’t realized that Mitch had finished speaking and was looking at me expectantly waiting for a response to what he had been saying. “So, what do you think?”

“About which part?” I asked in an attempt to hide the fact I hadn’t heard a word he said the last few minutes. With any luck, he’d changed subjects enough times, he would be compelled to say something that hinted toward what he was asking.

“My job, what do you think?” He answered a little impatiently, but not without his patented smile. That stupid smile that had its own way of affecting me.

“Um, I think the club is great.” I eventually answered slightly confused why he was asking me about his job.

Mitch worked at the local gun club. It was a place where you could go and shoot different targets. Most of the time, Mitch was stuck running the skeet machine while guys practiced their aim on moving objects. I knew he thought it was boring, but you took what you could get in River Valley. Jobs weren’t always easy to come by in a small town.

“You weren’t listening.”

“Of course I was listening. I just wanted to make sure I…” I stopped unsure of how I was going to cover for my daydreaming. “Fine! I wasn’t listening. What about your job?”

“Well, I was just saying I actually don’t work there anymore. I quit.” He said with a proud smile on his face.

“You quit?” I shrieked. “Why would you do that?”

His smile fell and he leaned back against the metal chair he was sitting in. “See? I knew you weren’t going to respond well to it.” He placed his hands on the edge of the table, tapping his fingers. His eyes were trained on the movement in an obvious attempt to avoid making eye contact with me.

“Mitch, of course I didn’t respond well. There aren’t a lot of jobs right now. Julian still hasn’t found a new one and it’s been weeks since he was fired from the diner.”

“Maybe that has more to do with the fact that he was fired than there not being any jobs available.” Mitch shrugged his shoulders as he said this, still not meeting my eyes. “Besides, I have some money stashed away in my bank account. I’ll be fine.”

I’ll be fine.

The words pissed me off. Mitch was one of my best friends. We had become friends almost immediately after I moved here from California a few years ago. He was easy to get along with. But, he was always so carefree about everything. I mean, truly to a fault.

Mitch lived life to the fullest without fear of anything bad happening. It was as if he embodied everything older people said about teenagers. They think they’re invincible. They never think something bad will happen to them. Frustratingly, nothing bad ever did happen to him.

Yep. I was an awful friend for even thinking that. I didn’t actually want something to happen to him. It just seemed so unfair he could do whatever he wanted and never be dealt the consequences.

“What if something happens? That money would be gone before you could blink.”

“Well, if it does, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. Honestly, Gwen, you are the biggest worrier I’ve ever met. I don’t think there’s a bigger nervous Nellie than you.”

“Nervous Nellie?”

“It’s something my mom says sometimes. But, seriously, you need to relax.”

If only he knew. If only Mitch or any of my friends knew the demons that were lurking beneath the surface, hiding in my past. They would go running for the hills. Or, maybe they would actually understand why I couldn’t do daring anymore, why my life was a series of calculated decisions. But I had chosen to leave my closest friends in the dark, living with my past in secrecy. I couldn’t expect them to understand why I couldn’t just relax.

“Okay, Mitch. I’ll bite. Why did you quit your job?”

“If you weren’t over there daydreaming, you would know.” His fingers stopped tapping as he studied my face. “I probably shouldn’t tell you. You know, to punish you for being a bad friend and not paying attention.”

His words made me laugh. Only he would claim I was subject to daydreaming. I wasn’t normally so ditzy. In fact, most people found my attentiveness to be unsettling. But, those stupid dimples made me, well, stupid. “Oh, my goodness, just tell me.” I cried across the table.

“I was actually channeling my inner Gwen.” He explained. “I think I’m going to go into business and wanted to give myself more time to study.”

“And party?” I guessed.

“Well, of course. If something is going to suffer, it’s not going to be the fun stuff.” He admitted, his smile returning to his face.

“Of course not.” I muttered under my breath, but I knew he heard me when I felt his foot kick me beneath the table.

The thing was, Mitch and I had a weird relationship. It was one-part best friend, one-part sibling, and one-part romantic tension. All of that combined to make things really hard to decipher between us. It wasn’t just on my end either. I knew that Mitch struggled with the same feelings as I did.

We just refused to talk about it.

“I know it’s hard for you to see the value in anything fun. But, we’re only young once, Gwen. Shouldn’t we be enjoying ourselves?”

“You mean like YOLO?”

“Please don’t ever say that again, even ironically.” He forced a dramatic shudder like I had made some unthinkable faux pas.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that I don’t value fun. I like to have fun like everyone else.”

At this, he rose his brows at me. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” I argued. I did have fun. I went tubing down the river when the weather was warmer, I liked building snowmen in the snow. Katie and I hung out and did girls’ nights all the time. I was fun, damn it.

“Then how come all your fun always revolves around old lady activities?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, conveniently leaving out the fact I had a how-to knit book sitting on my desk at home. I knew it was an old lady hobby, but didn’t hipsters do it too? Were hipsters even a thing anymore?

“Then come to Brett Garlington’s party this weekend with me.” Mitch interrupted my internal debate.

“Isn’t he in high school?”

“Yeah, but Sam’s going. I have big brother duties.” His parents were so protective over Mitch’s little sister, it wasn’t funny. For some reason, they didn’t think she was capable of making it through high school without a chaperone, even though their middle child should have been the one they worried about. He was always trying something new.

“I’m not going to be the college student who goes to a high school party.” I argued.

“Why not?”

“Everyone will be younger than us. It’ll be weird.”

“Only if you make it weird. We could boss them around.” He waggled is eyebrows at me. I couldn’t help but laugh a little though.

“You’re horrible!”

“Does that mean you’ll come?”

“I don’t know.”

“Gwen, don’t be ridiculous. It’s only a party. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I looked over at Mitch, his expression hopeful. I really hated parties. The only good thing about Brett’s party was it was a week away. I gave me time to mentally prepare, maybe even forget about it in the meantime.

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll go.”