He Says He's Just A Friend

Chapter 23 - I Wish You Would

- Emmett -

There was a brief knock on the front door right before Clay rushed in and smiled at me. He stayed true to his promise. He didn't disappear. In fact, he came around almost every day after school for the next month to hang out. Even when I was doing my homework. He'd sit on the floor next to my desk doing his—inevitably finishing first, since he wasn't bogged down with an AP course load. Then he'd take a nap on my bed while I finished and we'd watch movies or go out.

Sunday was the only day I rarely saw much of him. He spent the mornings with his other friends for what he called "Bro Time." The evenings, he spent with his family. Occasionally, the Millers would invite me around for Sunday dinner, which was always nice. Clay's parents had taken to treating me like one of their children, asking about my schooling and extracurriculars. They seemed quite impressed to learn that I was the senior class treasurer. They even inquired sometimes about my dating life, just as they did with Clay and Rachel. Mrs. Miller in particular seemed invested in finding me a boyfriend. She even tried to set me up with the gay bike messenger who delivered to the law office where she worked as a paralegal. He was cute, but he and I had nothing in common. We barely spoke on our one and only date. I only went out with him because I was terrible at saying no to authority figures. Also, I wanted her to like me, so she'd continue inviting me to dinner.

When Mrs. Miller brought up that the nephew of a friend had recently come out as bisexual two weeks later, Clay shut her down, shouting, "Jesus Christ, Mom! He doesn't want you to get him dates. He's just too polite to tell you."

Clay immediately apologized for the outburst, but Mr. Miller took away all three of his video game systems for a week for his rudeness.

"Hey!" Clay said, kicking off his flip-flops at the door. "I saw your mom wasn't home, so I figured I'd just let myself in."

He walked over to the couch where I had stretched out on the chaise section, reading The Great Gatsby for the umpteenth time. Clay sat down right next to me—despite the four feet of space on the couch. I was very glad that the incident in my bed hadn't put him off being affectionate toward me. He propped his legs up beside mine, crossing his ankles. My leg hair prickled when his leg brushed against mine. He leaned his head on my shoulder and stared at the pages.

"Did you need something, Clay?" I asked as his toes pressed against my foot, making me lose my place as I thought about the possibility of Clay rubbing that foot up my leg. Or maybe Clay throwing his leg across me, rolling on top of me and pressing his lips against mine.

"Is that for homework?" Clay asked, pulling me back from the fantasy before I got too excited.

"It's for enjoyment."

"Okay, nerd." Clay lifted his head slightly. His eyes couldn't have been more than an inch or two from mine. "Will you go to a party with me, Em?"

"Why?" I asked, distracted by how close he was. Close enough, I could count the freckles on his cheeks if I had the time. I examined his face carefully and inhaled deeply, enjoying that sweet, icy scent of his cologne. I could even smell a hint of sweat beneath it.

Clay also looked me over. "Jackson is begging me to go."

My heartbeat sped up as I thought about how close his lips were to mine. And the fact that we were basically breathing each other's breath. "So, go with Jackson."

"Carrie is going, too. I don't want to be a third wheel." His voice was pleading now.

"I'm sure your other friends will be there."

"They won't. The person throwing it goes to your school, I guess. Everybody there is going to be super preppy. And I don't think I can handle that much khaki and argyle alone."