Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Thirty-Three

Callie

Carson and I decided to find the lowest rated B-list movies to watch on Netflix and make fun of them. Two movies in, Franklin was deeply asleep on his throw pillow, and Carson and I were having a ball.

That was, until Nick and Joe came in and we had to stop physically acting out the bad acting. There were some things I could do in front of Carson that were just not flattering in the least. Like rolling around on the floor, pretending to be a tire that exploded things.

That impersonation had us both on the floor, laughing and holding our stomachs. Until the door upstairs opened.

Our laughter stalled as we listened to Joe’s and Nick’s voices come in. They’d gone to play a pickup game of rugby with some of their college friends, and they must have finished up.

Carson jumped onto the couch and put his arm on the back, waving me over. “Come on, come on,” he hissed.

I jumped up from the floor and leaned against his arm as he took the remote and flipped away from the movie. They really would never let me pick a movie again if they saw this one on. My chest was still rising and falling heavily with the force of which we’d been laughing.

As Joe came down the stairs, he gave us a look. “Are we interrupting something?”

“No,” Carson said too fast and adjusted his shirt. I knew what he was doing—trying to make it look like we’d been making out...or more.

My cheeks heated, having what I was sure was the intended effect.

Nick’s eyes slid over us to the TV, and he asked, “What are we watching?”

Franklin growled at the sudden change in company and walked over the couch and dropped onto my lap.

“Anything but that last movie Callie picked,” Carson said. “Still trying to figure out if her bad taste in movies is adorable or a deal-breaker.”

Joe flopped down on the couch. “Deal-breaker, obviously. Pass the remote.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into the crook of his shoulder as Carson tossed him the controller. I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t comfortable. I could sleep all night like this.

Nick sat as far away from us as he could on the couch, and I couldn’t help but hope my closeness with Carson was making him uncomfortable.

Who was I becoming? Someone who wished for another’s discomfort? I straightened in my seat, trying to shift out of the guilt I suddenly felt without upsetting Franklin. I reminded myself this wasn’t to make Nick feel bad—it was to help him see me as someone’s girlfriend. Someone desirable.

Carson leaned close to me, his lips only inches from my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine as he said, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

I found it hard to speak, so I nodded.

Carson made a show of taking my hand and leading me to the sliding door while Franklin haughtily went back to his pillow despite its proximity to Nick.

Joe made kissing sounds, and while my cheeks flushed with warmth, Carson winked back and closed the door behind us.

Since our yard butted up to the green belt, we could hear the sounds of nature even though we were in the middle of the suburbs. Bullfrogs and cicadas scored our walk to the back fence. As Carson led me through the gate, I loosened my grip on his hand, but he held on.

A tingle filled my stomach, and I tried to quiet it. Best friends didn’t get tingles or butterflies or whatever I was feeling right now. “What’s going on?”

He met my eyes and held my gaze. “We've got to take things to the next level.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Why do you think Nick hasn’t made a move yet?”

Now I was even more uncomfortable. What was Carson trying to say? That I was hopeless? “There could be plenty of reasons,” I argued. “Maybe he’s scared to make a move since he thinks we’re together or he’s worried about what Joe will say or he’s still working up the courage to ask...” Or he doesn’t like me, I didn’t say.

Carson looked down at our linked hands. “All we do is hang out and watch movies together. We hardly even hold hands or post online.”

“But everyone knows we're together,” I said, finally stepping back and breaking our connection. “You saw all the comments online. People love us as a couple. They’ve been expecting it. My own friends are beside themselves about it.”

Carson frowned. “They might know that logically, but we look like we have about as much sexual chemistry as a sweater vest.”

My cheeks warmed at the mention of sexual chemistry. Here I was trying to fight the ways my body responded to him, and now he wanted me to do more? I didn’t know if I could handle it. “Where is this coming from, Cars?”

Turning away from me, he ran his hands through his hair, then faced me again. “Gemma knows we’re lying.”

My blood ran cold. “How did she find out? We were only around her for an hour!”

With a shrug, he said, “She knows us, and she’s a little more observant than your brother. I think the real giveaway was that we just waved goodbye. We got sloppy.”

“I need to sit down.” I lowered myself to the grass, breathing deeply. “This was a dumb idea. I should just come clean, tell everyone how pathetic I am.” My eyes stung, and I rubbed them. I’d been stupid to even think I could con my way into Nick’s heart. That was no way to start a relationship.

Carson sat beside me and pulled me into a hug. “Hey, hey, it’s not a big deal. We just need to touch each other a little more.”

At the word “touch,” I realized his arms were around me. I looked up and met his eyes, feeling the charge between us. Those feelings terrified me. I’d been in love with Carson before, and I knew where that path led. It led to me watching while he fell in love with someone else, someone better, and I was staying as far away from that heartache as I could.

He brushed his fingers over my cheek, nearly undoing me, and a chuckle escaped his lips. “Is the idea of touching me that repulsive?”

My heart pounded furiously, terrified he would see just how alluring the idea was. How much I needed to suppress those very urges. But then my lips betrayed me with the truth. “I always imagined when a guy touched me, it would be because he wanted to.”

Carson’s eyebrows drew together in the deepest compassion, and he tilted his head. “Callie, you’re my best friend. I’d do anything to help you. Even if it does mean getting a few cooties.”

I rolled my eyes at him, then sighed. “I don’t see the point in carrying on for the rest of the summer if it’s not going to work.”

Carson raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? That boy is so uncomfortable.”

I rolled my head down and shook it. How could we be seeing such different realities?

Carson reached up and gently touched my chin, drawing my eyes back to him. The gesture made my stomach do weird things, and I swallowed, hoping he couldn’t see my reaction.

“Callie,” he said, “he can hardly look our way at all. And have you noticed that he's not staying over as late anymore to play video games?”

I shook my head, not wanting to believe him. “Maybe he's just busy writing.”

Carson rolled his eyes. “Any guy who would rather look at a notebook than you is crazy.”

If I kept blushing like this, the last thing I needed to worry about this summer would be sunscreen. I’d already have a permanent burn on my cheeks.

“Look,” Carson continued, “I think we're getting close, but we just need to act like we like each other. A little bit.” He gave me a teasing smile, and it loosened the tightness in my chest.

“Okay, we can hold hands more often,” I agreed, convincing myself. It wasn't like Carson and I had never held hands before, like when we were walking through a crowded concert trying to stick together. We could make this work. And soon, I’d be with Nick and the way Carson’s touches made me feel would be a distant memory.

“Good,” Carson said with a grin, and he pulled me into a hug, holding me tight to his chest.

I breathed in his familiar scent, sunscreen and chlorine and fresh air.

As he stepped back, he said, “Are we good?”

I nodded slowly and reached for his hand. “Good.”

The twist of his fingers through mine left a gentle hum playing through my skin. I tried to blame it on the breeze or all this talk about relationships. My mind had to be playing tricks on me. Carson and I were best friends, nothing more. At least not in private.

“Think we’ve ‘made out’ long enough?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes and began walking toward the gate. As we slipped through the sliding door, Joe said, “This you-two-dating thing is so weird.”

Carson chuckled. “Feels like it's been a long time coming, man.”

Joe snorted. “I thought we were the only ones who realized you two were in love.”

Carson met my eyes. Just another echo of what I’d said outside.

“Come here,” Carson breathed as he took a seat on the couch, his green eyes breathing warmth into me. I tucked my feet under me and curled into his side like I’d seen my mom do with my dad hundreds of times before. Up this close to Carson, I felt comfortable—safe.

I couldn’t help the heaviness of my eyes as I leaned into the one person I would trust with my life. He drew small circles on my shoulder with his fingertips, sparking electricity in my stomach. How did my friends focus on anything when they were sitting with their boyfriends like this?

Joe said, “Everything okay, Nick?”

Nick’s eyes seemed to focus back in, and he nodded quickly.

Joe snorted. “Thinking of more words to rhyme with love?”

Carson chuckled. “I could give you a few ideas, but they’d probably stall out after dove and glove. I'm not the greatest writer.”

My lips spread into a slow smile as I remembered the gift Carson got me for my fourteenth birthday. I sat up so I could look at him. “That's not true.”

He looked down at me, his nose only inches from mine. “What do you mean?”

I put my free hand on his chest, using it to hold myself up. “Do you remember that time you gave a poem for my birthday? I think it was eighth grade.”

Joe covered his mouth, laughing. “He wrote you a poem? You had it so bad, Carson!”

Carson’s cheeks had grown almost as pink as mine were earlier, and I might have even caught a hint of red on his ears.

“It was actually really good,” I said, defending Carson. “I'm pretty sure I still have it in my room somewhere. I can go get it and read it for you guys.”

Carson immediately opened his mouth to argue, but Nick stood up.

“Speaking of poems,” Nick said, “I better get home and work on mine. That poetry slam’s coming up.”

Carson lifted the hand that was still holding mine in a wave. “See you later, man.”

Nick didn't give us a second look before he walked out the door, but Carson pulled me into an even tighter hug and whispered, “See? You’ve got to trust me.”

There was no one I trusted more.