"What?" I ask Nate, wondering what he's thinking.
"Nothing. So how late do you think you guys will be out tonight?"
"Not late. We'll probably go home after this. You want me to stop by your house before he takes me home?"
"No. I'm really tired. I'll probably be asleep in a few minutes."
"Okay, well, feel better."
"I will. And hey, I'm happy you're having a good time. Just don't have too good a time." He laughs, but it's his uncomfortable laugh, which confirms he doesn't want tonight being anything more than his best friend hanging out with his cousin. "See ya, Riley." He ends the call.
"This should help," Brad says, coming up behind me and placing his hoodie over my shoulders.
"Thanks." I slide my arms in the sleeves. The soft fleece lining is warm from being in the car and makes me instantly feel better.
"Good?" he asks.
"Great! Thanks for letting me borrow it."
He chuckles. "You're swimming in it."
I look down and see that it hangs to my knees and my arms are lost in the sleeves.
"Let me fix these." He takes my arm and rolls up the sleeve of the sweatshirt so my hand shows, then does the same to the other sleeve. "Oh, shit." He stands back. "I did it again."
"Did what?"
"Touched you. Sorry about that. It's a habit."
"Brad, you misunderstood," I say with a laugh. "I wasn't mad when you did it. I only reacted that way because you're so warm. My freezing arms weren't prepared for that."
"So you don't mind?"
"No. I'm a touchy-feely person too, so I totally get it. Sometimes you can't help yourself."
"And it seems to be even harder with you."
Our eyes meet as he says it, electricity coursing through our gazes.
I look away, focusing on the dart board. "Ready to play?"
His gaze remains on me and it's making me blush. Why does he keep staring at me?
"I'll try a practice one." I get in position and throw the dart. It hits outside the target and lands on the ground, making me laugh. "Okay, I'm really bad."
"You just need to lift your elbow more." He stands behind me. "Okay if I show you?"
"Go ahead," I say, my heart picking up speed as he steps closer, so close I can feel the heat of his body.
He takes my arm and slowly lifts it up, then moves his hand over mine so that we're both holding the dart. "See how your arm is positioned?"
"Yeah," I say, although I'm not focused on my arm. I'm focused on the feel of his very large, very warm hand wrapped around mine, and the fact that his hard muscular chest is nearly pressed against my back as he extends my arm to show me how to throw the dart.
"You feel that?" he asks, and my mind goes straight to something else I'm feeling. Or maybe it's just his belt.
"Riley?" He moves back, enough that I no longer feel his body touching mine.
"Yeah." I take a breath to get myself together. I zoned out for a moment in a fantasy I should not have been having. "I think I got it."
"Go ahead and try one." Brad steps aside.
I focus on the bullseye and throw the dart, hitting the outermost ring on the board.
"That's good," he says. "Try another one."
I do, and it lands right next to the first one. "I'm looking at the center ring, but it's not going there."
"Here." He comes up behind me again and puts his hands on my waist, moving me over a couple inches. The feel of his hands gripping my waist causes a tingle to scatter through me, specifically the parts of me that shouldn't be tingling while out with Nate's cousin.
I feel Brad's warm breath by my ear. "Now just focus on the tip hitting the target."
Why does that sound dirty? We're talking darts. That's it. What is wrong with me?
I glance over and see Brad's face next to mine as he looks at the board, which is what I should be doing instead of focusing on how his lips are just inches from my mine.
"Go ahead," he says, slowly moving back.
Trying to regain my focus, I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them and toss the dart. It hits just outside the bullseye.
"Riley, that's awesome!" Brad smiles and pulls me into a hug. It seems totally natural, like he does this to everyone. Some people are huggers, some aren't. I'm sure Brad's a hugger and that's why he hugged me, but having his body pressed against mine is heating me up even more.
"Your turn," I say as he lets me go.
He gets in position and I watch his arm flex as he throws the dart. It lands right in the center.
"You got it!" I say, feeling the need to hug him like he hugged me. But instead, I wait as he throws another dart. It lands just outside the bullseye.
"Damn," he mutters. He squints his eyes and holds the third dart up, pausing a moment before throwing it. It lands right in the center of the bullseye.
"Brad, that's amazing!" I hug him before I even realize what I'm doing. I'm about to pull away, but then his big strong arms go around me, hugging me back.
"Thanks, but it's not that impressive," he says with a laugh. "I played darts all through college."
He lets me go, but I wanted to keep hugging him. Friends can hug, right? And I really like his hugs. The feel of his hard, warm body pressed against mine. His big, strong arms wrapped around me.
"Your turn." He hands me my darts.
"I'm kind of intimidated now that I know I'm playing with a pro."
"Not a pro, just a college kid with too much time on his hands."
"You couldn't have had too much time being pre-med. Didn't you have to study a lot?"
He shrugs. "Not really. I mean, I did, but I still made time for other stuff. I'm someone who needs time to relax."
"So you played darts."
"Not all the time. Just now and then."
Too hot to wear the sweatshirt, I take it off and set it on the chair next to me.
Brad is watching me and says, "You don't want it?"
"I was getting warm. Between the dart throwing and fierce competition, I'm really heating up."
"Forget the competition. We're just playing for fun." He points to the bar. "Want another drink?"
"I'm good for now." I should throw a dart, but instead I stay where I'm at, my eyes drinking him in. That body. That smile. If he wasn't Nate's cousin, I'd definitely be making a move on him right now, or at least flirting. "What else did you do for fun? Besides darts?"
"Went out with friends. Played sports. Hung out with my girlfriend."
"You had a girlfriend?" I ask, trying not to sound overly interested.
"Several." He pauses. "That sounds bad. What I meant is several over the course of four years."
"Any of them serious?"
"No. Well, some of them assumed it was serious even though I told them upfront that's not what I wanted."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not ready for that. I still have med school to get through and a residency. That's at least seven years that I'll be studying and working nonstop. It wouldn't be fair to get involved with someone and have that be their life for the next seven years. I wouldn't be able to give the girl or the relationship the time it deserves. Eventually, that would lead to us breaking up, so I didn't even want to go down that road."