This is taking forever.
All right, he’s doing a little better, but it’s like he’s trying to say something the way his lips are moving.
I would close my eyes and try to pretend like this is someone other than Mike, but I’m not breaking my gaze at the clock.
Mike tilts his head to the other side, and I’m pretty sure that if I had a brother, this is what it would be like to kiss him. This is, in no way, a turn-on.
Ten seconds left.
It’s almost over. The worst is already done, now it’s just a matter of hanging in there for a few more seconds.
Five.
Four.
Three.
A sound from somewhere else in the apartment startles me, and I pull away.
Shit. It’s Dane.
He’s standing at the door with the oddest look on his face.
“Dane! When did you get in?” I ask.
“Just a second ago,” he says, clearly having a lot of difficulty pulling the ringing phone from his pocket. “I’m just going to take this outside,” he says, and is out the door before I can say anything else.
“Oh crap,” I say, putting my hands on my forehead.
“What?” Mike asks. “So he saw us kissing. What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “He looked like he just walked in on me killing his dog.”
“Does he have a dog?”
“No, he doesn’t—you know what I mean. Things have been pretty weird with us, and I think this is just going to make it worse.”
“Why would this make it worse?” Mike asks.
“I don’t know,” I lie.
The truth is that I’ve wanted to talk to Dane ever since that night when things started getting weird.
I thought my feelings for him were a drunken thing, but the more time that’s passed, the more I find myself watching him and looking forward to him being home, even if we hardly ever talk.
“So?” Mike asks with a cartoonish smile on his face.
“So what?” I ask.
“How was the kiss? Do you have any pointers?”
“The kiss,” I say. “I totally forgot.”
“Great,” Mike says, sinking into his seat. “If I can’t get you to even remember, I’m in trouble.”
“Why the emphasis?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”