The Cheat Sheet

“I was probably waiti

ng for self-tanning lotion to dry.”

Nathan is quiet for so long I think he fell asleep. I peek up at him and see his glazed-over eyes staring into the distance. And then I realize what’s happening.

I clap loudly in front of his face. “Oh no you don’t! You don’t get to picture me naked!”

“Sorry.” He blinks, looking sheepish. “You mentioned the self-tanner and then…never mind.”

I clench my teeth. “This is completely unacceptable.”

His smile turns compassionate. “Bree, I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it better? Stop talking about it? Tell you what I thought when I saw you?”

“NO! HELL NO!” I push out of Nathan’s arms and stand. I’m pacing like a panther in a cage at the zoo. An idea immediately strikes me, and I don’t give it a second thought before blurting it out. “You can take off your clothes and even the score.”

Nathan blinks up at me. Stunned.

I mean, I get it. I didn’t expect myself to say that either. But it’s a solid idea! He got to see me naked in a less-than-favorable situation, and now I get to see him naked in the same sort of situation.

He swallows. “Or you could just go grab one of those magazines and finally take a look.”

“No.” I shake my head, a defiant toddler. “You’re perfectly lit in those, oiled, and—let’s be real—probably airbrushed. You’ll look like a god among men, and that’s not fair because you saw me in harsh light and bobbing around.”

He tries to stifle a smile. It makes me more angry. I do one quick up, up, up motion, telling him to get his smug ass off the couch. He groans, hangs his head down, and then slowly rises to his full height. Good gracious he’s like a tower. Jet black eyes meet mine from where he’s standing three feet away, and he arches his brow. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s a great idea! Get to it.” My eyes probably look feral. Like a rabid squirrel you don’t want to run into at the park.

Nathan doesn’t blush like I hope. He doesn’t look insecure or scared about what I’m going to find under his clothes. He just begins unbuttoning his shirt. His hands are steady as he works, and my legs are shaking like those of a newly birthed fawn. With every undone button, I question my sanity in requesting this, but I don’t tell him to stop.

Three buttons down, and I see a triangle of tanned flesh. Four buttons. Five, and now there’s a slight sprinkle of hair.

He pauses with a teasing glint. “You want a cigar or something? Maybe put your feet up?”

“Shush. This is fair.” That’s the only reason I’m doing this. The only reason.

Nathan’s fingers reach the last button, and then he slides his shirt down off his shoulders and tosses it on the couch. I’ve seen him without his shirt so many times before, but this is…different. His shoulders are cut granite, and his collarbones are like two crowbars pressing against his golden velvety skin. Shadows paint around the ridges of his abs and obliques, making them look like stepping stones down to a perfectly tapered waist. His Adonis V disappears into nicely pressed suit pants held up by a matte black belt. He is muscles, tendons, veins, and aching handsomeness. Gorgeous in a way no human should be. Magnetic and electric at once. He draws me in and will electrocute me if I touch him.

Who was I freaking kidding? Lighting doesn’t matter one bit for a body like Nathan’s. He could be under sharp fluorescent doctor’s office lighting, and my tongue would still be lolling out the side of my mouth.

His black eyes flare as he undoes his belt, and now I’m feeling woozy. I didn’t think this through. What happens after he’s naked? My mind fills in that blank for me, and the sound of his belt sliding out of his pant loops sounds sharp to my ears. My pulse hammers in my neck, and I watch every detail of his sinewy flesh moving as he throws the belt next to his discarded shirt. I’m suddenly aware that I want this too much. That my hands are gripping the fabric of my dress. This is going to change everything, and I WANT that. I want Nathan like this. Not friendly. A little dangerous. A little taunting. A lot sexy.

I want to take a step closer and run my hands down his abdomen. Wrap my arms around his neck and let him hold me against his masculine form.

Nathan pauses with his hand on the button of his pants, and then when he flicks it open and I can see the band of his black briefs, reality crashes into me. He’s really going to do it. He’s going to get naked right here in the living room, enacting the fantasy of every woman in America (including me). The air around me is burning, and before he can make another move, I shoot my hands out in front of me.

“Stop!”

He freezes, eyes slicing up to me, lips parted in surprise and pecs flexing from how I startled him. He doesn’t say anything, and my breath comes out in a tremble. I shake my head. What was I thinking? I can’t do this. It would be jumping-out-of-a-plane-without-a-parachute-level life-changing.

I’ve got to backtrack.

“Kidding!” I blurt out like this was a gigantic prank the whole time. Ha-ha! You totally fell for it! I laugh and turn away from Nathan just so I can let out a big puff of air. I have 2.1 seconds to salvage this before it becomes weird for everyone. I let this night get the best of me and am starting to lose sight of the plan.

Stay strong, Bree. You’re dazzled by the fake relationship.

With my back to Nathan, I mentally repeat my secret rules for a successful friendship.

1. Keep those feelings wrapped up like an egg salad at a church potluck—they’re not actually good for anyone.