I didn’t answer.
“Come on, Lia,” he coaxed. “You know it kills me when you’re angry at me. Give a guy a break. I did carry you when your feet got tangled up with your high heels, right? Not that I’d ever mind carrying you when you couldn’t walk, but you could at least toss a couple of brownie points in my direction.”
I pulled my gaze away from his face because I knew what was coming. The two of us rarely had big disagreements, but on the rare occasions when we had, Zeke would hound me relentlessly until he found a way to get me laughing again.
It had never taken him very long to accomplish that mission, either. One glance at the silly, puppy dog look he always used to get me to relent usually did the trick.
Damn those sexy eyes of his that could speak volumes without him saying a single word. Once those slightly pleading baby blues caught and locked onto my gaze, I always caved in like a building that had been hit with a massive amount of dynamite.
Not. This. Time.
My eyes stayed stubbornly planted on my bedroom wall. I didn’t feel like laughing right now.
He got to his feet. “Okay, so maybe you need a little more time?” he asked hesitantly before he started to stroll toward the bedroom door.
“Where are you going?” I yelled irritably to his retreating figure before I flopped back against my pillow.
“I’ll be back,” he called.
I tried to decide if the bed was really starting to spin, or if it was just my imagination, as I listened to him rummage around in the kitchen.
It wasn’t like it was difficult to hear every move he made.
My new apartment was tiny, but I loved it. I’d just moved out of my grandmother’s house a few weeks ago because I’d gotten promoted to manager at the coffee shop I worked in.
Someday, I desperately wanted to open my own place, but in the meantime, I was learning everything I could about the business of all things coffee. When the time came for me to launch my own store, I was going to be ready, and I planned on giving customers a coffee paradise that would keep bringing them back for more.
I sighed as Zeke sauntered back into the room. It wasn’t easy having a male best friend who looked like him. Especially not when I wanted to be so much more than just his friend. How could I not? He was so damn hot that just looking at him was torture. His thick, sandy hair was just willful enough to be sexy rather than messy, and it was still hard to decide if Zeke’s hair was light brown or blond. Truthfully, it was both, and those various shades and highlights threaded together so naturally that he could be classified as either one. Add a pair of soulful blue eyes that seemed like they were ever changing from indigo to turquoise. Top those off with a strong jawline, great bone structure, and that was Zeke Conner.
Really, with a face like his, was it fair that he’d been blessed with a body worth salivating over, too? He was tall, broad, and incredibly fit. He wasn’t bodybuilder muscular. I knew he wasn’t into pumping iron, but Zeke was ripped because there were very few physical activities that he didn’t enjoy and excel at while he was doing them.
Honestly, putting the fact that the guy had won the genetic lottery aside, one of Zeke’s most endearing qualities was the fact that he was just an all-around…nice guy. Unlike some other gorgeous guys I’d met, Zeke wasn’t focused on his physical appearance, nor did he act like he noticed that he turned a lot of female heads whenever we went anywhere together. He was that guy who’d do anything he could to help a friend or a perfect stranger. The kind of man anyone would be lucky to call their friend.
Someone I’ve always been fortunate to call my best friend.
There were so few things that I couldn’t discuss with Zeke. He’d push me up when I was down, laugh with me when I was happy, and support me when I needed someone to be there for me. Maybe the only thing I’d never been straight with about was the way my feelings had changed for him over the years.
Correction, I’d never been able to share that with him…until tonight. Which, apparently, might as well have never happened since Zeke didn’t believe me, anyway.
“I know you’re probably still mad at me, but drink some of this, and take these,” he insisted as he sat on the bed and handed me a bottle of water. He put a few more bottles on the bedside table.
I held my hand out unsteadily, and he took it so he could tuck the aspirin into my palm and close my fingers around them.
I took the pills because he seemed to be waiting for me to do it, and gulped down some healthy slugs from the water bottle he handed me.
He nodded toward the bottle with an expectant look. “Drink water as long as you’re awake. Lots of it. It will help flush the alcohol and toxins out of your system. I’ll be back in the morning with some food, whether you want to talk to me or not,” he said gruffly. “You’ll probably end up with one hell of a hangover, so you’ll need to put something into your stomach in the morning.”
I blinked as I looked at him, trying to stop the tears that were suddenly welling up in my eyes from falling. He was obviously done with trying to tease me out of silence, and it didn’t take a completely functioning brain for me to sense that he was actually…hurt.
Zeke and I had always had some kind of weird connection that felt like we could actually pick up on each other’s emotions. Not in some odd psychic way. The bond was more instinctive than otherworldly, a unique closeness between two people who really cared about each other.
My heart sank, and I hated myself for being a bitch to the one person who’d been there for me every single time I’d needed him. The friend who was still trying to take care of me even though I’d hurt his feelings.
Maybe we weren’t lovers.
Maybe Zeke would never want me the same way I wanted him.
Maybe it was painful to look at him sometimes and know that we’d never be anything more than best friends.
But…I’d rather suffer through some of that crap than not have Zeke in my life at all.
“I’d better take off,” Zeke said awkwardly as he rubbed his hands over his jean-clad thighs before he started to stand.
“Don’t,” I said in a breathless voice as I put a hand on his forearm. “I’m not angry anymore, Zeke. I was just frustrated because I was talking, but I felt like you weren’t hearing me.”
“Oh, I heard you,” he said with patient humor in his tone. “But I know it’s the alcohol talking, Lia.”
“It’s not.” Impulsively, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I want you, Zeke. I have for a long time. I’ve just been afraid to say it.”
I felt his shoulders tense. We were suddenly face-to-face, so close that all I had to do was close the minimal distance between us and I’d finally have his mouth on mine.