The Cheat Sheet

“Hey, might want to slow down,” says Nathan, taking my forearm to tug me lightly. “We’ll burn out if we start in a sprint.” But his touch feels like positive and negative connectors to my dead battery—it jolts me to life and now I want to take off like Speedy Gonzales. “Seriously, Bree. Slow up. We haven’t even had our coffee yet. Why are we running before coffee and donuts, anyway?”

Good question. Answer: because I’m everything all wrong and backward today. I woke up this morning like it was Christmas. TUESDAY! It’s been two whole sleeps since our kiss in the hallway, which was also the last time I saw Nathan. I’ve been busy with dance and he’s been busy with practice and a photo shoot after practice yesterday, so basically, I’ve been dying. (Not to be dramatic.) But when my eyes popped open this morning (at 4:30 AM), I couldn’t wait any longer—I had to see him. I had to see if all the heat and zings I experienced during that kiss were still there or if he was faking it for the dating facade. I highly doubt it though. He’s a terrible liar—also so fun to play poker with—so I’m thinking he’s into me.

Now, before, this would have sent me screaming in a frenzy and overanalyzing every move he makes. Not the new Bree. The new Bree isn’t worried that Nathan is only into me as a passing fancy. The new Bree isn’t even thinking about that (yes, I am). The new Bree is going with the flow! Seeing where this sexy little fling takes me. LAYING IT ON THICK!

I force myself to slow down so I can toss him a normal smile. He frowns, so it probably wasn’t so normal. “Just wasn’t in the mood for donuts.”

“You’re unwell,” he states flatly, so shocked. I couldn’t have told a worse fib. “Come on, let’s take it easy today and go down to the beach.” He veers left, and I have no choice but to follow.

We jog together down a boardwalk and kick off our running shoes when we reach the sand. It’s so early in the morning that the air is still chilly, and the beach is relatively empty. No one is here to watch us or take photos—which makes it all the more startling when Nathan intertwines our fingers and pulls me with him down toward the water. We both stand so that the tide can wash over our feet and ankles. The icy water prickles my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of holding Nathan’s strong hand.

He audibly sighs, making me look up at him. His wavy brown hair flutters around his brow, and the salty air makes the strands at his nape flip up with an extra ounce of rebellion. The wind catches his t-shirt, pushing and pulling it around his abdomen, once again drawing my attention to his perfectly sculpted form. A soft smile curls the side of his mouth as he stares out over the water where the sun is just starting its day.

“I miss the ocean,” he says quietly, and then he looks down at me. “We don’t come down here enough.” His dark features are a direct contrast to the soft blue sky behind him, and yet they somehow complement each other perfectly.

“Life is busy.”

Well, truthfully, his life is busy. Mine is too, but it’s a different sort. I have built-in breaks and days where I kick back and watch TV for no good reason in the middle of the afternoon. I don’t work myself to the bone like he does.

I blink back toward the water. “Confession…I was down here yesterday morning.”

“You were?”

I shrug.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice sounds sad.

I point up at his face. “That’s why! You turn into a sad puppy when you find out I’ve done fun things without you. I don’t like to rub it in when I know it’s not something you can swing.”

His hand squeezes mine and he pivots slightly to look down at me. “That’s very sweet on your part—and super pathetic on mine.”

I chuckle. “You don’t like to be left out. Nothing wrong with that.” I stare up into his eyes, feeling the space between us close a fraction. The same magnets that pulled us together in that hallway are working now. His thumb glides up and down my hand. I ache to tell him how perfect this feels between us.

“You’re not annoyed by my faults?” he asks, sounding perfectly serious.

“I don’t see it as a fault. It’s just you. Sort of how you never tell me to sort the piles of random crap in my apartment.”

He grins softly. “Who am I to mess up your system?”

“See, that’s why we work so well together. Best f—” I cut myself off and clamp my mouth shut. No more constant reminders of our friendship. I want more. And I’m pretty sure the first step is not claiming an old label.

He hums in suspicious amusement at my cutoff sentence. Then his eyes crinkle in the corners. “Well, you’re right. I don’t like missing out on fun with you. So let’s go swimming now.”

I shriek at that thought. “No way! It’s going to be so cold, and—AH!”

Nathan scoops me up in his arms and runs full steam ahead into the water. I scream and kick and think he’ll stop at the last moment and tell me he’s only kidding then take me back up to the beach. Nope. He dunks us both under the frigid water. The temperature can’t be more than 60 degrees, and I’m going to murder him! But when we resurface and he flashes me his sunshine smile, I lose my rage. He is happiness embodied. He is also sexiness embodied. His dark, wet shirt molds to him, and water droplets slide from his hair down that square jaw.

I bet I just look like a wet cat.

Nathan eyes me and my shivering body, and my suspicions are confirmed about how I look when he chuckles. “Are you cold?”

I glare at him. “No, I’m incredibly w-w-w-warm, you jerk!”

“Awww, I’m sorry. Come here.” He stretches out his long corded arm and pulls me up close to him, wrapping both arms around me as we are swayed by the water. I’m pressed against the hard planes of his body, and now I don’t feel so cold anymore. It’s a miracle!

I swallow, wondering for the hundredth time in the span of a few days what this is, what it means…

“Hey,” Nathan says, breaking through my thoughts and pushing my sticky wet hairs back from my face. “Are you happy, Bree?” His eyes trace the line of my mouth. I don’t know what this moment is exactly, but it feels important. My heart trembles.