what to say. Why was I being so weird? I closed my eyes and reminded myself I was only feeling this way because of the holidays. Gideon was a relentless flirt, that was just who he was. I shouldn't take any of his flirting seriously.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound normal.
"I know we usually just text, but we need to talk," he said.
My eyes flew open. Why? Why did we need to talk? I didn't want to talk, especially not about what he was calling about.
"About last night? That was nothing," I said. "You just had a little too much to drink."
"You know I don't drink."
I did know that, I just didn't want to accept it. It was easier to believe he wasn't being genuine. I refused to believe he could see me as anything more than a friend.
"Well, I thought maybe–"
"No, Becca. You know me better than that. I need to go out of town for a couple of days on business, but I'm coming home on Friday. I want to see you. We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"There is. Even if it's just one-sided, I need to talk. So what do you say? I can come by Friday on my way from the airport."
"Friday? That's New Year's Eve."
"Then there's even more of a reason to get together," he said. "Let's go out. There's this new place, Mallory's, that I've heard some good things about. What do you think?"
What do I think? I don't know what to think!
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Maybe. Let's not put a name to it. How about we just see what happens Friday night? I'll pick you up on my way from the airport."
"I know where Mallory's is. That's one of the first areas you and I worked on rebuilding. It's out of your way to pick me up. I'll just meet you there. You said it yourself, it's not a date."
But even as the words slipped past my lips, I felt my nose scrunch up.
I'm going on a date with my best friend. Maybe.
Chapter Four
Gideon
Last Night
Five of us sat in a VIP booth at Ember, the hottest jazz club in Canyon Cove. We were close and thought of each other as brothers, but we hadn't seen each other in months.
The warm wood tones of the club gave it a relaxed vibe. On the walls were photos of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis, Jr. In the corner, a three-piece band played while waitresses delivered drinks to the tables. It was the perfect place for a group of overconfident guys like us to do what we did best – pick up women.
"Did you see the beauties at the table by the bar?" Smith asked us as he raised his glass to a passing redhead in a too tight skirt. She smiled at him as she walked past. "The name's Brody," he said to her with a wink.
"So it's Brody tonight?" I asked once she was out of earshot.
"For now," he said with a laugh.
We called each other by our last names to avoid any confusion. Giving out fake first names was part of our game. It kept things easy. None of us wanted to be tied down to anyone, we were just looking for fun.
“What about you, Kohl? Figure out a name yet or are you going to use your brother's again?" Navarro asked.
Navarro was my closest friend of all of them. He had intense ebony eyes and tanned skin that made all the girls go crazy for him. That also made him the perfect wingman.
"I'll never do that again. Gabriel was pissed when some random girl hunted him down after spending the night with me." I laughed. "Who knew she was an MMA fan?"
"That's exactly why she should've known you weren't who you said you were," Navarro said. "You don't look anything like your brother."
I shrugged as the guys laughed. "I had a good time, she had a good time, that's all that matters."
"That redhead is still making eyes at me," Smith said. "Did you see the body on her? Thick, just how I like them." Smith licked his lips like a cartoon wolf. "And who do you have your eyes set on tonight, Navarro?"
Navarro lifted his cranberry and club soda off the table as he scanned the room with it. His hand stopped as he pointed to a small table with two brunettes. He lifted his glass and