Best Friends Don't Kiss

“It’s not a problem, Ava. I’ll walk you home.”

“No, that’s okay!” I exclaim as I pick up my pace. I’m not sure why I’m walking so fast, but I think it’s a combination of trying to lose my date and continue the whole emergency façade.

But, goddamn, Brian has no problem keeping up with me.

Holy mackerel, did he train with Olympic-medal-winning speedwalkers?

“I insist, Ava. And anyway, you said your apartment was only a block from the restaurant. It’s the least I could do. I just hope your friend is okay,” he says, not even out of breath.

Me, on the other hand? I’m panting and sweating like a whore in church.

Brian follows me the whole damn way, keeping up with my quick strides like I’m merely taking a leisurely stroll through Central Park.

When I reach the door to my building, he doesn’t hesitate to follow me inside.

And when I step inside the elevator, he’s there too.

Oh, fan-fucking-tastic…

Discreetly, I pull my cell phone from my purse and type out a quick text to Luke.Me: Unlock your apartment door and act like you’ve fallen and you can’t get up!Luke: Huh?Oh my God! Seriously? How hard is it not to ask any questions and act like one of the old people on those medic alert commercials?Me: Just freaking do it! I’ll be at your door in like thirty seconds! Injure your ass right now!LukeI reread the text messages Ava just sent for the third time to make sure what I’m seeing is real. Unlock your apartment door and act like you’ve fallen and you can’t get up?

Is she serious right now?

When I hear the faint sound of the building elevator dinging its arrival, I jump up from my couch and head for the door.

The instructions are pretty clear—clearly ridiculous—but if Ava is anything like she normally is in an emergent situation, I’ll have enough time to take a peek out the door, assess the seriousness, and respond accordingly.

I crack open the door just as a mess of blond hair and flailing limbs throws itself into the wood bodily, bowling me down and, ironically, knocking me down in a way that it will be tough to get up.

I grunt, and she groans as she gathers herself from her spot on the floor a couple feet in front of me. She’s rubbing an elbow I assume she smacked on the ground, but other than that, she seems committed to the ridiculous farce she’s perpetrating.

“Ava,” I say as she gets up on her knees and crawls over to me just as a man I don’t know, wearing a suit and loafers, steps into the open doorway. Suddenly, it all makes sense. My adorably ridiculous friend who cannot, it seems, under any circumstances, just say how she fucking feels.

“Oh my God, Luke!” she exclaims, her words a dramatic rush. “Are you okay? I got here as quickly as I could!”

She runs her hands along my limbs as if checking to see that they’re not broken. “Ava,” I challenge, shaking my head.

I cannot believe the lengths she will go to in order to avoid a simple awkward moment. She just met this guy, for fuck’s sake. Who gives a shit what he thinks?

“Thank you so much for walking me to my building, Brian!” she shouts over her shoulder. “I’ll call you later!”

“Wait, is he okay?” the man asks. I have a sneaking suspicion that if Ava were even a little less hot than she is, he would have been gone a long-ass time ago. “Are you sure you don’t need some help getting—”

“I’m fine,” I interrupt bluntly, moving Ava gently to the side and standing to my feet. Her eyes bug out of her head as she silently calls me every name she can think of, but I have to stop this before I end up in an ambulance on the way to the ER to keep the viability of her story alive.

Loafer Guy’s eyes narrow, but I’m a dude, and I know how dudes think. If this shit is as bad as it obviously is for Ava to go to these lengths, he’d rather just know now.

“Brian, right?” I ask, and he nods slowly, glancing between Ava and me in confusion.

“Yeah. How do you—”

I shake my head and hold up a hand. Ava is still mentally cursing my very being, but I ignore her.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re best to just cut your losses, okay? Ava is not into you—”

“Luke!” she yells, embarrassed.

“Well, you’re not, are you?”

Her eyes are actual daggers as she shakes her head.

“But she’s too nice to tell people like it is. So, I’m telling you. Move on. Find someone who won’t get seasick on your boat.”

“Luke!” Ava chastises again, and I shrug.

Brian doesn’t look back as he turns and leaves.

Ava, of course, is mortified.