Read Up in Flames (Crash and Burn, Book Two) (A Military Romance) for Free Online Page B

so than usual?
    Gah, I hate all this angsting. I sip my water and then chew on a thin slice of cucumber bobbing at the top. Just because he and I had sex doesn’t mean there’s something deeper here. We hung out Saturday night without it going beyond that brief kiss in the car. The night even ended with some hard, genuine laughs as we had monkey bar competitions—who could hustle across the bars the fastest (he won by an avalanche), who could do the best penny drop (I did; still got game, baby). Surely we can slide right back into being only friends.
    The thought of not kissing him ever again makes my stomach sink.
    My phone vibrates. I glance to see who’s texting me. It’s Darlene, an undergrad buddy whom I occasionally hang out with. I dry off my hand and grab my phone.
    What’s up, lady? Long time, no hear. I know it’s last minute, but want to get a drink 2nite? If not, let’s meet up soon, k?
    It’s sweet of her to ask, but I don’t want to leave the house. I’m not very good company right now. Feeling too emotional and ridiculous, and I’m sure I’d be no fun at all, dumping all this shit on her shoulders when all she wanted to do was scope hot guys in the bar and throw back a couple of cocktails. Not to mention I planned on early bedtime so I could arrive in the office ready to work tomorrow.
    Rain check this time, but yes, let’s hang!! Next week maybe? I hit send, then plop the phone back on the table.
    Out of nowhere, it strikes me then—I’m making a lot of assumptions about how Cole feels toward me but not asking him about it. Just skirting the issue, trying to uncover the depth of his feelings without outright saying, “What is this thing happening between us? And what do you want it to be?”
    Okay, if I’m honest, I know the reason why I’m doing it this way. It’s easier to stay in the murky middle ground of not defining who or what we are if I don’t ask him. Easier to justify things in regards to my sister, as well.
    God, I suck. I need to put on my big-girl panties and deal with this shit sometime—talking with Cole, yes, but first with Christina. It can’t keep going like this, straddling the line and hoping I won’t fall off. Because I’m totally going to crash hard; I feel it coming like that eerie crackle in the air before a storm.
    That’s it. I’m going to text her and ask if we can hang out this coming Sunday, maybe do lunch. We’ll get it out in the open once and for all. That buys me a few days to figure out how the hell I’m going to tell her I had sex with the guy she’s crushing on, in a way that won’t drive her away from me for good.
    It would kill me to lose her again, especially if it was something I could have prevented. But was this really preventable? My first encounter with Cole was before I even knew her feelings.
    The devilish guilt in me whispers, that encounter last Friday night wasn’t though . I tried to resist him but I couldn’t. Yet I did resist temptation at the playground—nothing happened between us, not really. Just a tiny kiss. Surely that balances the scales, right?
    My phone vibrates again. I dry my hand off, expecting a reply from Darlene, but see it’s Cole instead.
    What are you up to?
    I bite my lip. Before last week, I would have told him I was bathing, without pausing to consider it. Now I’m wondering if that’s too sexual an admission, if it will lead to us moving out of the friend zone in this conversation. I hate that I’m stressing over what to say to my best friend. This is stupid. It’s a bath. I’m not masturbating or anything.
    I think about slipping my finger between my folds while Cole’s sexy voice whispers in my ear over the phone, and I feel myself growing wet. Shit. Nope, stop that right now, I order myself. That is decidedly un friendly behavior.
    Soaking away the day’s stress, I write. That’s generic enough without any sexual undertone. You?
    A moment later the phone buzzes, and I peek over at the screen