Could wrap my arm around her waist and haul her onto her tiptoes until her mouth is even with mine. Could press our lips together and revel in how good she feels again.
But I shouldn’t. I fucking shouldn’t and I know I shouldn’t.
I shouldn’t want to kiss my best friend.
I clear my throat, letting go of the card. “Seriously, Care, I got it.”
She nods, then tucks the card back into her purse.
“What do you want on the pizza?” she asks, grabbing her phone and scrolling to find the place we always order from. “The usual?”
“Extra black olives.”
“Ew.” She scrunches her nose, bringing the phone up to her ear.
“Pretty sure you can’t say ew when you eat pineapple on your half.”
“I can and will say ew because ew. Also, since you’re buying, I’m ordering breadsticks.”
“Mooch.”
“Cheap ass.” She flips me off. “Hi, yes,” she says in her sweetest voice, “I’d like to place an order for delivery, please.”
She moves into the kitchen to rattle off our order and grab drinks.
We’ll spend the time it takes them to deliver the pizza watching previews and deciding on a movie. When Caroline said it was my turn to pick, she meant the genre. After that’s decided, we still must agree on the actual movie we’ll watch.
It’s our routine, and it feels good to be doing something normal.
After tossing some money on the table, I grab the remote and settle onto the couch in my spot, navigating back to the home screen of the movie app.
“Here,” she says, handing me a can of flavored carbonated water. “We ran out of lime.”
“Thanks,” I say, popping the top and taking a hefty swig.
Ugh. Grapefruit. My least favorite.
Caroline settles onto the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. It doesn’t escape my notice that she’s sitting on the complete opposite end of the couch, as far away from me as she can possibly get.
Guess I spoke too soon about normal.
Usually, she’ll come in here and grab her blanket, then lay her head on my lap, where she’ll inevitably fall asleep once her belly is full.
Not anymore.
We ruined that.
She pops the top on her own drink and takes a sip.
I catch the color of the can from the corner of my eye.
“I thought you said we ran out of lime.”
“We did. Just now.” She shrugs, taking another drink.
“And I thought you were a good friend.”
Do good friends kiss each other?
“I am a good friend. Case in point: I didn’t stop being your friend when you told the entire ninth grade class I had mono from practicing kissing on the water fountain.”
“I totally saw you using tongue on that thing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Just start scrolling.”
I navigate to the comedy section and flip through the movies until something jumps out at me.
I pause on one and we watch the preview.
A light chuckle from her, nothing from me.
Pass.
We do it again. Then again. And at least five more times.
Until finally we settle on something that gets more than a chuckle from both of us.
Just as we’ve decided on a movie, the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it!”
She bounces from her seat, running toward the door like she’s starving.
I watch her talk to the delivery guy.
I watch him scroll his eyes down her body and stare at her for far too fucking long.
I clench my jaw tightly, trying to resist the urge to do something dumb like walk over there and put my arm around her waist.
Like she’s fucking mine or something.
I sit here stoically as it takes way longer than it should to get the pizza, doing everything I can to not listen in on their conversation.
When she finally closes the door, I snap my attention back to the TV, even though nothing is playing yet.
“You are never going to believe who that was.”
“Who?” I play along.
“Remember that guy from the bookstore who’s always in there when I am?”
“The stalker who wants to bang you?”
She huffs. “He is not a stalker. It’s just a coincidence that we ran into him at The Gravy Train too.”
“Yeah, he’s just coincidentally stalking you.”
“Anyway,” she says, setting the pizza down on the coffee table and resuming her spot. She slides a couple napkins my way, then leans forward, popping the top of the delicious-smelling pie and grabbing a slice. “He delivers pizza at night now to cover his book-spending habit.”
I snort, reaching for my own piece. “Sounds like a nerd.”
“And when he saw my name come up on the queue,” she continues, ignoring me, “he took a chance and