My experience with women—which wasn’t insubstantial—had taught me a thing or two over the years. The most important thing I’d taken from my weird exit from Brooke’s house the night before was that she didn’t hate me for bolting. Yes, she hadn’t been sober, but I knew sexual tension. It was so thick around her, I could have reached out and touched it.

In fact, it probably would’ve scalded my skin, it was so potent. And as much as that had the potential to complicate things between me and Brooke, I pulled into the driveway the next day with a slight feeling of trepidation. My momentary guilt in spending so much time with her dissipated quickly after I’d left a few nights ago. In fact, I realized how stupid I was being pretty much as soon as I got back home and Tristan asked me what the hell I was doing home so early.

Brooke was my friend. There was a level of comfort with her that I didn’t even have with the guys, and while that should have shaken me to the core, I simply found myself missing it the last couple nights. As enjoyable as it was to hang out with Cole while the girls were out, I just missed Brooke.

The garage was empty when I let myself in, which was probably for the best. The salon was completely framed in, the second coat of drywall mud dry after what I’d done the day before. Even though the floors were still bare, I looked around the space and nodded happily. We’d doubled her space to work, and the enclosed space for the washer and dryer would keep the room looking like anything but the typical laundry room. I slipped my earbuds in and pulled out my clear safety glasses and mask.

Sanding dry wall mud was messy business, and more than an hour later, I had a coat of white dust everywhere. In between songs, I could hear the chatter of Brooke and the twins, and nerves made an unaccustomed trip through my stomach. When I looked at my phone, it was later than I’d thought, which meant I’d been sanding for close to two hours. I could leave the room, go say hi, but since I wasn’t sure what my reception would be, I stayed put until I was completely finished working.

After plugging the Shop-Vac in, I went to work cleaning up as much dust as possible. Briefly, I contemplated using it on my hair, but instead, I ruffled it with my hands and tried to get as much dust as possible out that way. When I swept past the plastic blocking off the salon from the rest of the house, I found chaos.

The dining room table was covered in shit. Not literal shit, thank goodness. But little plastic bags and water bottles, random bins of food and small stacks of papers in various shapes and sizes. The twins were screaming in their high chairs, and Brooke was slumped over the kitchen island, banging her forehead against the granite.

“Umm, you okay?”

If she was surprised by my presence, she didn’t show it. Just made a small sob of surrender. “No.”

I braced my hands on my hips and assessed the situation. “What can I do to make it better?”

Brooke lifted her head, and I schooled my face as much as possible. All that dark hair was piled on top of her head in a crazy, and I mean crazy, ponytail bun thing. There were dark circles under her eyes, and on the shoulder of her shirt, there were some orange spots that looked suspiciously like spaghetti sauce.

“I kicked you out last night,” she said with a miserable look on her face.

I nodded, not surprised she didn’t answer my question. “You did.”

“And the time before that, you ran out of here like the three horsemen of the apocalypse were after you.”

I nodded again, ridiculously charmed by her. “True.”

“I’m sorry I told you that you can’t smirk at me. I do actually like your smirk.”

“Good to know.” I scratched the side of my face, licked my lips before I decided if I should just tell her. “I booked out of here because I was feeling selfish for taking up so much of your time. Not because I didn’t want to hang out with you. I do actually like that very much. In the vein of honesty that we find ourselves in.”

It was the right move, because Brooke smiled at me. “That’s so stupid.”

I laughed. And there I was expecting her to have mercy on me in my moment of vulnerability. I nodded at the mess on the table. “For the party tomorrow?”

She sighed and looked over it like it had done her personal injury. “Yes.”

“How about I help with … whatever all that shit is supposed to be.”

Brooke dumped some puff things on the trays in front of the twins, and they munched happily. “As bad as I feel making you stay here and help me make party favors, I’m not going to turn down the help. I bit off a little bit more than I can chew when I told my mother I was perfectly capable of handling it myself.” After a brief, self-deprecating smile, she eyed me. “No offense though, you need to do something about yourself before you touch a single other thing in this house.”

Looking down at myself, I couldn’t blame her. I looked like someone had dumped a five gallon bucket of dust over my head. “Do you care if I grab a shower?”

She blinked a few times and then cleared her throat. “Ahh, no. You can use the one back there or the master. Up to you.”

I swallowed. Using Brooke’s shower felt like too much. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “I can use this one.”

“Yeah.” With jerky movements, she turned and started putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “Clean towels are under the sink.”

“Thanks.”

I couldn’t see her face when I turned to go, but she looked to the side just enough that I could see bright red spots on her cheekbones.

Sexual tension, I’m telling you. I could spot it, smell it, taste it, from fifty yards.

With a deep breath, I grabbed my duffel that held my clean t-shirt and jeans, shut the door of her bathroom behind me and started stripping out of my dusty clothes. Just a thin layer of drywall and paint between me and Brooke.

I’d showered at friends’ houses before. Many times.

When I cranked the water as cold as it would go, I laughed. Every time I told myself that Brooke was just a friend, the lie sank deeper and deeper into my brain. To the point where I almost believed it.

What I didn’t know is whether she did or not.