I don’t hear her say anything else, shoving myself back under the water, drowning out her voice, and all my thoughts of her.
When the fuck did she get so stuck in my head?
When did she become all I can think about?
When did I start having feelings for my best friend?
I realized days ago it goes beyond anything sexual when I missed her.
Not her touch or her lips.
Her.
The annoying way she always slaps her legs when she finds something truly funny. The references to those ridiculous TV shows she loves. How she always drinks all the good flavored water and leaves me with the gross ones. Fuck, I even miss her always rolling her eyes at me.
I miss those trivial things about her that she’s holding back on now.
She’s scared. Shy. Walking the straight and narrow. Playing it safe.
It’s like she’s reverted to the same Caroline she was the summer I met her.
Quiet and cautious. Unsure about me.
And I fucking hate it.
I hate that we did this to ourselves.
But I hate even more how much I want to do it again.
The water starts to run cold, and I realize I haven’t even washed my body yet.
I squirt some bodywash onto the loofa and quickly wash up, rinsing off before the water really starts to freeze.
I turn it off, step out of the tub, and begin to dry off.
I realize my mistake then.
I forgot to grab new clothes.
“Fucking hell.” I sigh. “Not again.”
I push my clothes into the corner, not wanting to carry my dirty laundry through the house, and wrap my towel extra tight around my lower body.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, pulling the door open.
The steam billows out around me, and I look down the hall toward the living room, listening for the pad of her feet.
Nothing.
I crane my neck the other direction…and my eyes collide right with Caroline’s.
Her bedroom door is open, and she’s sitting at her sewing desk.
Staring right at me.
Her eyes flit down my body, and her stare somehow feels even hotter than it did before.
Catching herself before her eyes travel too far, she snaps her attention back to my face.
Need.
It’s right there in her gaze.
She wants me just as badly as I want her.
She swallows once, twice.
And then slowly drops her head to the work in front of her.
Don’t say anything, Cooper. Don’t say anything at all. Go to your room.
“You could at least buy me dinner next time.”
She lifts her head, brows crushed together. “Huh?”
“If you’re going to eye-fuck me, the least you could do is buy me dinner first.”
Her face twists in anger, then she pushes up from her chair, stomping to her bedroom door.
“You’re a real dick, Cooper Bennett.”
And she slams it closed.
Good. I’d rather her be mad at me than walking on eggshells.
My hand is on my door when hers flies open again.
“Screw you, Cooper!” she hollers, charging down the hall toward me, not stopping until she’s a foot away. “You know, this is all your fault. You’re the one who took a shower and left his clothes in his bedroom. It wasn’t my fault you didn’t follow our rules.”
“We have rules for showering? Since when?”
“Since always!” She throws her hands into the air. “Since we were teens and I grew boobs. We don’t do nudity, and we don’t do details about sex. You’ve stayed in your lane and I’ve stayed in mine. We’ve always had those unspoken rules. It’s why I stopped wearing a bikini around you when we were seventeen. It’s why I always wear a bra around the apartment even though I’d really rather let my boobs breathe. It’s why I cover my eyes when there’s a sex scene on TV. We have lines, Cooper.”
“That’s stupid. We’re adults—we shouldn’t have to tiptoe around each other.”
“We do if we’re going to remain friends and not let things like passing sexual desires ruin everything we’ve built.”
“Is that what you have for me, Caroline?” I lean into her space, wanting to look into her eyes to see her answer. “Sexual desires?”
She curls her lips, darting her gaze away from mine. “I said passing.”
I smile victoriously, stretching to my full height and crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s not a no.”
She growls, waving a hand through the air. “That’s not what this is about.”
“Isn’t it though? Isn’t it exactly what this is about? How we have these lines we’re not supposed to cross, yet we did anyway?”
“You did.” She takes a step toward me, poking her finger into my chest. “You’re