Her best friend.
Glancing at him over her shoulder, she took a deep breath. His reddish blond hair—he’d lecture her for calling it that, because it was too feminine, and according to him it was just red—and hazel eyes were topped off by loyalty, dedication, selflessness, strength, and a hell of a six-pack. The rest of his muscles matched that toned abdomen of his, all the way down to his huge…
Well, really, tight boxers only hid so much.
Especially on a guy as big as Steven.
She’d never been as fond of underwear as she had been the first day he came out of her bathroom, wearing nothing but a whole lot of damp skin and form-fitting black boxers. It had been a sight pretty enough to wake the dead. Maybe that was how the zombie apocalypse would come. Steven in a pair of boxers…walking through a cemetery.
That was part of being friend-zoned—he stripped down to his boxers in front of her as if she didn’t count as a woman at all. Sometimes, she thought he forgot she was one. He certainly didn’t treat her like one.
Not that she wanted him to, of course.
She was all too aware that he went through women faster than she went through sugar, and she didn’t exactly have the best track record either. Take her habit of falling too fast and too hard, add a pinch of his promiscuity and inability to commit, and they’d be an undeniable recipe for disaster and heartbreak.
She knew it. He did, too. Or at least, she assumed he did.
They’d never actually talked about it…until tonight, when he’d asked her if she ever thought about the two of them. About what it would be like. She had. Lots.
But she’d never admit it out loud.
So what if she’d never find out what it was like to have Steven look at her as if he needed her more than he needed air, or water, or life itself? That was a good thing.
Or so she kept telling herself anyway.
Plastering on a smile, she turned to him. “Cupcake?”
“Of course.” He smiled and took it. He always did. “Thanks.”
When he took the treat, his fingers brushed hers as he tugged it out of her hand, and Lauren clenched her jaw at the inevitable rush of lust that swept through her veins at the touch. That was nothing new. Her inability to ignore it, however, was.
She blamed his odd behavior from earlier tonight.
Giving him her back, she pulled out a shot glass. She could still smell the whiskey on Steven. She probably ruined the second part of his evening when she called, but for some reason, she wasn’t sorry. She poured a shot of rum and tossed it back, shuddering at the burn.
He chewed on his cupcake contemplatively, watching her closely as she immediately poured another, and tossed that one back, too. When she poured a third, he shook his head. “Lauren.”
“I’m fine. Just one more, and I’ll be good.”
Steven made a disgruntled sound and covered her hand with his. Gently, he pried the bottle out of her hands. His hand was warm and calloused, and it made her want to ignore the voices in her head for once. To take what she wanted. Him.
Always had. Always would.
“I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m not about to watch you drink a whole damn bottle of rum.” He eyed her with concern. “That won’t help you with anything.”
She forced a smile. “It works for you, right?”
“No.” He flexe
d his jaw. “It doesn’t.”
She tossed back the shot she’d poured before he took it away, too. Of course, he faced away from her to set the bottle back on the counter, so he missed it, but she didn’t miss the way his navy pants hugged his rear to perfection. Screw Superman. This man had buns of steel. Maybe if she told him that, he would push her against a wall and follow through on—oh, crap.
The alcohol was giving her bad, bad thoughts.
Since she couldn’t stop staring at his butt, she turned around and faced the wall, gripping the counter so hard her knuckles ached. “Then why do you keep doing it? And why can’t I? What makes us any different?”
“Drinking to drown your worries and fears only makes everyone else worry about you more. And it makes me—” He broke off, cursing under his breath. “I…you…shit. Your drinking was all to show me I’m being an idiot and making you worry all the time, isn’t it?”