* * *

Am I supposed to pretend things hadn’t changed between us?

Or that Tristan was completely different with me just now?

I swear to God he was checking me out. I’d seen him check out other women before and I knew all the signs.

His facial expression, the way his blue eyes darkened when he was on the pursuit of some skank he couldn’t get out of his mind.

And, he would tell me. He didn’t tell me just now but I didn’t think I needed to be told to know.

I saw it.

It was the note. It changed us.

As much as I’d wanted to I couldn’t get it out of my head. I knew this man completely, so I knew his disposition to mess things up. I’d been furious about him putting the note in our box but I’d gotten over that fury. What I felt now was something else. Something I could only describe as a tumult of emotions that pushed and pulled my insides, leaving me feeling like I’d been through a tumble dryer.

Forget the events of the last few weeks with Brian, and my melt down over that. And hell, while I was on the subject of meltdowns I’ll throw in the melt downs I’ve had throughout my life.

They were nothing in comparison to what I felt now. All my emotions were fixated on Tristan and I didn’t know what the hell was happening to me.

I actually wanted to speak to him. He was going off to Philadelphia in a few days for the drafts, so I was hoping to fix this whole thing with us before he left. Tonight I thought we could watch a film. Act normal, like nothing ever happened. Only it didn’t work.

I attempted to talk to him yesterday too, but when I saw him working out in the gym and took in the full blown hunk of a man he was, wearing nothing but his jogging pants I just couldn’t.

I kept thinking about the note, and this weirdness I felt when I was around him. I didn’t like it, it disturbed the comfort I felt with him. Comfort I’d gotten used to, and found refuge in. It was like someone had taken a cloth and wiped that security away from my eyes, clearing away the relationship we had and making me see him.

I walked over to the wall with pictures of us I’d collected over the years. There were fifteen of them in frames of varying sizes. My favorite was of us standing together at his high school graduation. He had his arm around me and we were both smiling. I remember feeling exceptionally proud of him and happy that he’d made it. But what was even better was I knew we’d always be friends.

My eyes scanned over the other pictures stirring memories of us. We’d been friends for over nineteen years now, lived together for fifteen of those years and I never thought in all that time that I’d have this crazy mix of feelings that made my nerves spike and scatter when I was around him.

That note, I should have disregarded it by now. I should have ignored it and moved past it. But I couldn’t help but think that it stirred something inside me that had thought of him in that way at a super subconscious level.

I closed my eyes and pulled in a breath.

This was silly, the whole thing was silly. I needed to get a grip and move past the note.

We should have sex.

It was absurd, an absurd thought and contemplation. It wasn’t even meant for me so all I had to do was forget it.

And forget the reaction I thought I saw in him just now.

With that plan I took a long candle lit bath, gave myself a soothing facial, then grabbed a few magazines and read until I fell asleep.

The plan was still in my mind when I went jogging early in the morning. I ran along the beach soaking up the bright sunlight and filling my lungs with the fresh morning air.

I was fully revitalized by the time I got back inside and determined today would be different. I’d get ready for school, go in early and review my lesson plans for the next few weeks.

I went to the kitchen first to grab some water. What I didn’t expect to find was Tristan in there too. He never got up at this hour. It was nearly seven. He called it unsociable time and needed his beauty sleep.

The minute I stepped inside he looked at me. He’d been eating a bowl of cereal and turned to face me.

He had that messy bed hair look that I liked, and his beard had started to grow back. I liked him with or without it but leaned more to the bearded rough look that enhanced his masculinity. Add that to the completely vivid display of muscles he sported on his arms through the tank top he wore and any woman would be a drooling mess.

He grimaced when he saw me.

“What?” I asked in regard to his expression of disdain.

“What do you mean what? You come in here and what me like I’m this hideous creature you can’t stand. I used to be greeted with a kiss every morning and now you’re this gremlin I don’t know.” He straightened up against the chair.

“Did you just call me a gremlin?” I shot back.

“Yes, gremlin, I did call you that. But at least we’re talking right? It’s been five days since I spoke to you properly. You’re mad at me for something I can’t even remember doing and it’s a stupid fucking note.”

He was right, but I was annoyed that he was annoyed with me, when this was his fault.

“You put it in our friendship box Tristan,” I retorted. “That box is about us. The only person you were supposed to be thinking about when you went near that box was me.”

“Zoe, I think about you all the time. My fucking brain is filled with you at least ninety percent of the time. Forgive me if I fuck up the other ten percent.”

I was at a complete loss for words. He’d never said anything like that to me before. I was trying to think of something to say, of some response but nothing came to mind. And my silence really pissed him off.

He grunted, stood up and walked out.

I felt terrible as I watched him go and would have stopped him if I could have found my brain.

Had anyone ever said anything like that to me before? I couldn’t recall.

I heard him go up to his room and he didn’t come back out like he usually did before I went to work.

Instead of the invigoration I felt after my jog I returned to that inner turmoil.

I decided that who I needed was Rachel.

I hadn’t said anything about what happened and normally I’d tell her everything. In this instance I felt that talking would immediately create a problem that only existed in my mind. But I needed to talk, and I couldn’t talk to Tristan about himself.

I met her for dinner at her house. She made me a Brazilian feast.

Rachel was half Brazilian and half Colombian. She loved cooking foods from both cultures and she spoke both Spanish and Portuguese. It was cool. I’d always thought so.

It added to her character too in a way that drew me in when we met in college. We studied the same thing but she went on to do marketing and advertising.

She sat opposite me with a sly expression on her face as she started telling me about her date last night. I didn’t manage to get to the subject on my mind because she’d launched right in the minute we sat down around the table.

“Zoe, Jack is so amazing.” Rachel cooed. Her cheeks brightened and turned a warm rose color. “He’s just dreamy, and I really can’t wait to see him tomorrow.”

Jack, last week it was George. I rolled my eyes at her and giggled. It was good to laugh. I was used to her now with her host of admirers. Her philosophy was to share the love.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

She blushed uncontrollably when I ask. That was a dead giveaway that she was up to more than the usual shenanigans.

“Okay, don’t judge me,” she says holding up her hands and blushing even more.

“What, what are you doing?” I widened my eyes and stare at her.

“We’re going to a sex club.” She said in one breath.

My mouth dropped. “What!”

“A sex club. Don’t worry I’ve made it clear that I’m not doing anything with him, there. I’m just curious. Wouldn’t you be curious?”

“No?” I couldn’t believe she’d even ask me that. She knew what I was like and while I don’t judge people, I knew my boundaries, and that was far outside my limits.

“I’m curious, so we’re going.” She laughed at the shocked expression I knew is on my face. “Sure you don’t want to come?”

“No Rachel. There’s no way I’m going.” I shook my head. “Besides I really need to talk to you about something.” With that declaration she became more serious and thankfully that was the end of that conversation.

“Is it Brian?”

“It’s not Brian, I’m over him. The problem is actually Tristan.” Just to say his name made me nervous.

“What’s he done now?” She lowered her brows.

I pulled in a breath and told her everything. Everything, even my confusion and inner turmoil.

When I was done she rested her hand on the table and smiled. “Zoe, dearest Zoe, are you seriously going to tell me that you’ve never, ever thought about Tristan that way.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you are now?” she giggled.

“No, I’m not.” I said quickly and that made her laugh even more.

“Zoe, you’re forgetting that you’re talking to the only other person who knows everything about you. I know you’re thinking about him, even if you haven’t acknowledged it. You guys have been friends forever and God damn it the man is uber gorgeous, and worships the ground you walk on. It would be weird if you didn’t think of him that way.”

I stared back at Rachel wondering if what she was saying was true. There was no argument as to whether Tristan was uber gorgeous, and while he pissed me off more often than not he did treat me like a princess. But was I really thinking about him in any other way besides friendship?

Now that I’d posed the question to myself I felt even more uncomfortable.

“Do you really think I am?” I asked eager for the confirmation. Sure Rachel could come out with some crazy things sometimes. She’d just shocked me to no end by telling me she was going to a sex club, but there was one thing I could count on her for. Rachel had always been real with me. She never held back on her thoughts, and she told me the truth even when I didn’t want to hear it.

I did the same for her, but probably in a less blatant way.

“I sure do. But you looked kind of scared.” She offered a soft smile that made her brown eyes sparkle.

“I am.” I confessed because that’s exactly how I felt. I couldn’t think of Tristan and I being more than friends. I’d seen the way he was with women, and if I didn’t know how sweet he could be I would have to say that he wouldn’t be the kind of person I would speak to. “Should I be worried that this is getting to me more than finding out Brian was married with kids?”

That was the other question on my mind.

Rachel surprised me by smiling wide. “No way, this means you should have an open mind. No harm ever came from that. It’s closing your mind off to possibilities. That’s the trouble. Zoe, that note opened a door that would never have opened if you hadn’t found it. Imagine being with a man who knows you completely. And you know him.” Her eyes sparkled with delight.

“I can’t, and I shouldn’t.” I shook my head again. But the sly look on her face told me that she wasn’t done with her words of wisdom yet.

“Would having sex with him be that bad of an idea?”

I frowned at her. “Rachel listen to what you’re saying.” I knitted my brows together and sighed with frustration. Being here was making me more confused, because Rachel was talking about Tristan as if he’s just some guy I’m contemplating sleeping with.

“I’m very aware of what I’m telling you,” she smiled. “And I put the question to you again. Would having sex with him be such a bad idea? You guys are friends, but think about this one, you’re both two people at the end of the day. He’s a very gorgeous man, and you’re beautiful sweetie. Take away the friendship part and that’s what you have. People.”

She laughed at the worried look on my face. I’m worried because I’m confused. There are certain people we put in categories. People we trust, people we don’t trust, people we do certain things with, people we would never think about in certain ways. That note had broken down barriers, walls of a category I’d placed around Tristan because he was my friend.

Rachel laughed even more because she knew she was right. Then she pulled in a breath and leaned back against the chair. “If it helps why don’t you cast your memories back to when you first met him. That should help because you had no history then. Tell me what did you think?”

I frowned, because she just made the situation in my tumultuous mind worse.

Tristan was the most popular boy at school, he was older, gorgeous, the quarterback of the football team. What the hell did she think? I thought the same as any fourteen-year-old girl.

The smirk on her face once again highlighted that she knew she had me exactly where she wanted, but this is Rachel and clearly I needed to talk about this.

“I thought he was hot, but everyone did.”

“What else did you think that everyone else thought?” she laughed.

“Rachel, I was fourteen and I was a geek with no chance.”

“No chance of what?” she’s really fleshing this out of me.

“Of being with a guy like that.” I blurted.

She raises her brows and brings her hands up to her chin. “Is that what you think now?”

“Of course I do. Rachel, I felt bad when he said he’d missed a date with that damn model to spend time with me.” I did feel bad. I felt bad because he made her sound so good, like a prized possession. And, I was just some person who didn’t meet the mark.

“You don’t need to feel bad about that because we know he thinks about you ninety percent of the time.” She said repeating the words I told her Tristan said to me. “This is so good. I’m loving this.”

My shoulders slumped and I could feel the little resolve I had left fading. It was slipping away from me and I couldn’t deny that I’m fighting desperately now to hold on to the view of Tristan and I being friends.

I can’t deny that I feel…different, that I am attracted to him and if he were to come in here now with that stupid grin on his handsome face, and that gorgeous body, I’d crumble.

“You’re blushing.” Rachel pointed out. “Are you thinking about sex.” She is loving this. Maybe a little too much, maybe because all I talk about for the majority of our meet ups is work and I might ramble on about a new book I’ve read. I realize this type of talk is juicy for her, even though I’m suffering here.

“I’m not going to think about that.” I defend and straighten up.

“Oh, but you will, and every single time you see him it will be the first thought you have.” She nods with complete confidence.

Again, all I could do was stare because I was now worried that my thoughts will definitely get the better of me.

Rachel can look at me and know exactly what I’m thinking. The only other person who can do that is Tristan. If she’s right, and she usually is, he’ll take one look at me and know I’m thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him.

Because…now I can’t get the image or the thought out of my head.