And hopefully get you out of my system before I get any more obsessed.
She wrinkles her nose, but she doesn’t immediately shut me down.
“Seriously,” I press. “I’m a decent human. I love my family and would do anything for a friend. I don’t lie, cheat, steal, or pick my nose while I’m driving. At least not very often, anyway.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes, but the sound is close enough to a laugh for me to keep going.
“And I understand that you don’t want anything serious,” I say, shifting closer, further encouraged when she doesn’t step away. “But that kiss was…really nice. And I think you thought it was nice, too.”
She studies me out of the corners of her eyes. “Maybe, I did.”
“Well, maybe you’ll enjoy going out with me, too. But if we give it a shot and you don’t, that’s fine. I’ll back off with no hard feelings and wish you well. So really…what do you have to lose?”
“Do you really believe that?” she asks. “That there’s nothing to lose?”
I hesitate, thrown by how serious she suddenly seems.
She smiles, but it isn’t a happy smile, it’s the jaded grin of someone who realizes just how hard love can be.
I know that smile.
There are still mornings when it’s the first thing I see in the mirror.
“Exactly,” she says, apparently reading the recognition in my face, “and that’s why I don’t date. I’ve seen how much there is to lose. My mom made sure I had a front row seat for that life lesson.”
“Right,” I say with a sigh. I don’t know a whole lot about her family, but I know she was raised by a single mom and there was never a dad in the picture, at least not one who stuck around for long. “I’m sorry.”
She laughs, the too-bright sound echoing down the quiet street. “Don’t be. It’s fine. I’m perfectly happy the way I am. No drama suits me just fine.”
I’m tempted to call her on that—she wouldn’t have kissed me the way she did if a part of her didn’t want something more than her status quo—but that isn’t my place.
She’s established her boundaries and now it’s my job to respect them. “All right,” I say. “Guess I’ll see you around, then?”
“Sure,” she says, backing away. “Take care of yourself and…Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year,” I echo, watching her turn to go, filled with a strange mix of longing, empathy, and curiosity that doesn’t bode well for getting over this crush anytime soon.
As a last-ditch effort, I call out, “Maybe we could be friends? If you could use another friend? I know I could.”
She turns back, studying me for a beat before her lips curve in a warmer grin than I’ve seen from her before. At least when she’s looking at me. “Sure. I can always use another friend. You can come play pool with Jamison and me some night after work if you want. He always wins, but it’s still a good time.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I say. “I’d like that.”
Faith nods. “Cool. I’ll have him text you next time we go. He has your number, right?”
“He does,” I assure her. “Or I could give you my number. Friends do that, right? Give each other their numbers?”
She shakes her head with a soft laugh.
“What?” I ask, my lips curving.
“I can’t decide if this persistence thing you’ve got going on is cute or irritating.”
I grin wider. “Well, I know which one I’d choose, but seriously…I just want to be friends. No secret agenda.” I shrug. “Well, aside from getting to know you better so I can catalogue all your annoying personal habits and realize having a crush on you is stupid.”
She laughs again, rewarding my honesty in a way that makes me think I should try more of it. “Fine. I’ll get your number from Jamison and text you next week. If I don’t decide that’s stupid before then.”
“Sounds good. See you later, friend.”
“Later,” she says with a flutter of her fingers. I lift a hand and head across the street as she starts up the path to the firehouse.
It doesn’t really sound good, but it sounds better than being shut out of Faith’s orbit completely.
Fuck me, I’ve got it bad.
Really bad.
I’d be ashamed of myself if it weren’t for the “cute” thing there at the end.
She thinks I’m cute. It isn’t “smoking hot guy I’d like to ride all night,” but it isn’t “loser I never want to see again” either. Once she realizes I’m a fun pool buddy, she might decide I’m more than cute.
And if I get to kiss her again…
Well, a reminder that I’m good at making her moan can’t hurt my chances at becoming something more than friends.
Can’t hurt them at all.
Chapter Two
Faith Miller
A party.
I’m going to a party—willingly, without anyone bashing me over the head and dragging me from my house. Without threats or bribes or the lure of birthday cake to get me out the door.