The Boyfriend List (15 page)

Whatever confusion and
intrigue she’d felt in those few brief seconds was quickly answered. Because
then it happened.

One look into his eyes as
he reached her and there was no denying his intentions this time. He slowed as he
drew closer, and gently brushed the damp strands of hair from her face before
cupping the back of her neck. The anticipation, built over years friendship and
flirting, was finally drawing to a peak. He’d felt it as much as she had, and
it was only serving to intensify every moment, every look, every touch between
them now.

A brief smile danced in
his eyes just as he tilted his face. Leaning in, their lips touched, barely grazing
at first, but enough that every cell along Reagan’s skin was tingling. It was a
tease and she knew it, just a taste of what was to come. And oh, how it made
her want him that much more! In a smooth motion filled with confidence, he
wrapped one arm around her waist and entangled the fingers of the other deep
into her hair. Drawing her back, he deepened the kiss and as his tongue met
hers, they emptied years of held back passion into each other. Neither was
aware of anything outside of the other, so fully possessed by the moment as
they were.

It couldn’t have lasted
for more than a few seconds, but it felt as though they’d been frozen in that
moment for an eternity. Time had stood still, and in that protected space they’d
passed from friends to lovers. Never before had Reagan felt such warmth on
someone else’s lips, never had their lips fit so perfectly between hers, or had
she felt so peaceful, so protected in the arms of another. When he finally
released her, she felt his reluctance straining to hold onto her longer. But
that charmingly arrogant smile was splashed across his lips, the one that
confirmed he’d known exactly what he was doing the whole time, and that he’d
felt just as satisfied as she had. As she stumbled back against the door to her
apartment, she felt as though she were slipping through a dream. Everything about
the kiss had been perfect. She’d never even realized it could be that way.

 
“Okay then.” He stated as he began to
climb the stairs again, his feet tripping over each other while he shook the
haze from his head. “So that’s settled.”

Reagan nodded in
agreement.
It most certainly was!
“So
I’ll call you later.” Her voice was heavy despite her efforts to remain casual.

“Sure.”

“Good.”

Reagan watched him
disappear into his apartment, then shook her head as she leaned against her
door. Had that really happened? Had she just kissed Ian Scott? Touching her
lips gently with her fingertips, she decided from the way they still felt it
most certainly
had
happened. A smile
spread curiously across her face. “Wow.”

Thursday
Night

Reagan
wasn’t sure if it was a punishment for all the delicious fun she was
supposed
to have had while on break, or
just a general, inexplicable meanness coming from her professors. But whatever
the case, her homework assignment was twice as bad as it usually was. From
all
of her classes...Case in point: the
twelve-page essay assignment her politics professor had handed out. Not her
favorite subject by far, to begin with. But she honestly didn’t understand the
points she was supposed to be debating, and she wasn’t entirely sure she ever
would.

Normally
she worked better under pressure – at least, that’d been her one
reassurance when night after night she’d sat down to her computer and drawn a
complete blank on the topic. Not a single word came to mind. But now that it
was getting down to the last few hours before her deadline, that theory
suddenly didn’t hold as much weight. As midnight approached, her eyes were
burning, her head was throbbing and her mind was spinning with everything but
the schoolwork she was supposed to be focusing on. And though she pressed
forward diligently in an attempt to spare her grades, her heart wasn’t in it
with its usual vigor. How could it be, with everything else going on in her
life?

Leaning
back in her chair and massaging her temples, she breathed deeply and inserted a
few minutes of quiet meditation, hoping it would alleviate some of the noise in
her head. It didn’t. There were too many thoughts swirling around in there, too
many memories flashing vividly in her mind’s eye. Most prominent of all was the
kiss she’d shared with Ian. She couldn’t get it out of her head - the tenderness,
the warmth, the sheer perfection of the moment.

But
she had to stop, she had to find a way to push it from her mind. Ian was still just
her friend. End of story. And until they’d had
the talk
and decided otherwise, it had just been a random,
spontaneous, impulsive sort of moment.

So if
it was so spontaneous and impulsive, she argued with herself, why did her skin
seem to melt every time she thought about it? Why were her lips tingling with
desire in the exact spot he’d touched her? Why was her gut tied into a knot of
curiosity as her body demanded to know more?

This
was crazy, she condemned herself with a huff as she leaned into her computer
screen, willing her mind to focus again. They were Just. Friends.

Friends who had kissed
, she circled right back around to
again. Friends who had enjoyed kissing each other. At least, she knew that to
be true on her side, and from the look on his face when they’d finally pulled
away, she was pretty certain it was a safe assumption on his part as well. So
what were they now? What little box did she have to try to fit this new level
of their relationship into? Were they suddenly becoming friends with benefits? Ugh,
the very idea of such a casual agreement made her nauseous. But
that
, she was forced to admit, was
exactly what she’d be faced with if she didn’t put the breaks on this, and
fast! God, what was wrong with her, how had she let it get to this point?

No
really, what
was
wrong with her? Reagan
suddenly found herself contemplating the idea seriously. What was so wrong
about being with Ian?

It didn’t take much to
review their brief history together before she realized she’d never once heard
him use the “L” word with any particular girl he liked. She’d always figured
him for a short-term kind of guy, someone who dated casually and took advantage
of the random fun an uncommitted girl had to offer. And there were certainly
plenty of girls willing to offer that kind of fun to Ian.

But this was college, and
that’s what people did.
Most people
anyway, Reagan smirked to herself. She’d been far too serious to indulge in any
of that herself. Yet if she put that one little thing to the side, she couldn’t
find anything else wrong with the guy. So why couldn’t she just overlook that
to see if there was anything real between them?

Because then you’d have to admit he’s perfect for you.

As
soon as Reagan had heard the little voice in the back of her head, she quickly
tried to muffle the bitch. But it was too late. As her pulse picked up speed,
she could feel herself spiraling into a full on panic attack. Rubbing her
sweating palms against her jeans, she practically jumped from her seat and
began pacing back and forth in her room.

It
was one thing to
like
a guy, she
admitted cautiously. If you just simply
liked
a guy, and got rejected, it wasn’t such a big deal. And if you weren’t
rejected, you could have a couple months of enjoyable moments and fond memories
without much regret. Reagan had found her share of guys to like. But when you
loved
a guy...well, that was a whole
different situation. That kind of rejection would hurt like hell.

Wait.
Love
? Had she really just thought the
word? Reagan stood still in her tracks. Had she actually said
love
out loud or only just thought it?
Would it make it any more real if it had been out loud? Was she crazy? She was
thinking nonsense now, so she was fairly certain that
crazy
would be an accurate description. A kiss was one thing, but
love
? No no no no no...
love
could not come into the equation
between her and Ian.
Love
could turn
a friendship into a big, hot mess that could leave her devastated, and
that
wasn’t a good look for anyone,
least of all her. It was time to put the brakes on. Get serious. Straighten
this out.

But,
hadn’t he
almost
used the word love?
Yes, she considered, he had. But even Ian had rethought the expression.

Doing
what seemed to come naturally for her, she listed all of her points out in an
orderly fashion, counting them off on her fingers as she went. Point one: You
don’t just fall in love with someone out of the blue. Point two: Especially
someone you’ve known for years. Point three: Especially Ian. Point four: Unless
you’ve been in love with him from the beginning and were simply too afraid of
getting hurt by someone as great as Ian to admit it!

Wait.
Had
she been in love with Ian from
the beginning? Was this something she’d been in denial about the entire time?
Had Petra been right? No, that was ridiculous, she thought as she thrust her
hands on her hips in protest, she shouldn’t even question herself. She would
know if she was in love. A person, especially a girl, knows these
things...don’t they?

Suddenly,
she wasn’t so certain. And wasn’t that why she’d made the checklist in the
first place? To help her think straight and figure out what kept going wrong in
her head? She’d needed a practical way of approaching the subject, something to
help her figure out how to get what she hadn’t thought she’d had and yet so
desperately wanted. And that particular day, she hadn’t had the perfect
boyfriend.

Yet
as soon as the thought had materialized in her overworked, overtired little
brain, a flood of memories came rushing back to her of all the things Ian had
done over the years that would’ve actually made him exactly that. The perfect
boyfriend. And hadn’t he been the only one to get a perfect score on her
checklist? Reagan shook her head as though to shake the thought free, and vowed
in that moment to forget the whole thing and get her life right back on track. Checklist
or not, there would be no more thought of pursuing Brett, or Ian or any other
guy for that matter. She’d keep everyone exactly where they currently were
– as strangers and friends, without the benefits...

Staring
back at her computer screen, her mind was still drawing a blank on the subject.

Maybe
she needed to get some fresh air, she decided. Go for a walk, clear her head. Anything
to distract her focus from her thoughts and reset her mind back on her paper.

Decision
made. She shut down her computer, set aside her books and wrapped her long hair
into a somewhat sloppy bun on the top of her head. Reagan had contemplated a
light sweatshirt to ward off the last cold brisk of winter that clung to the
night air in stubborn resignation, then decided against it. But before she’d
even left her bedroom, she turned back and yanked it off her bed after all. Apparently
she was having a hard time making up her mind about everything that night.

Zipping
it halfway up her torso, just below her breasts, she crept quietly out the
front door and turned to lock it behind her. A quick breeze whipped its way
around the corner and down the corridor, and as a shiver worked its way up her
spine, she was thankful she’d listened to her intuition. Maybe she should do
that more often.

But just
as Reagan turned to go down the stairs and head out on her walk, she was met
– nearly head on – by an unexpected sight. Ian stood before her,
mildly drunk but mostly sober, looking as surprised to see her as she was to
see him. It was clear he’d been out for a night of fun, though she’d seen him
far worse on more occasions than she could count on both hands. But it was also
just as clear that, once again, he’d come home alone. She couldn’t help the
little smirk of satisfaction that turned up at the corners of her mouth on that
discovery, though internally she chastised herself at the thought.

 
“And just where do you think you’re
going?” His voice danced over the words with dramatic flair, an indicative side
effect of his inebriated condition.

It
took her a minute to find her voice. “I need a break.” She finally explained,
“This essay’s killing me and I want to clear my head.”

 
“Nice jacket.” He flicked the toggle of
her zipper, and Reagan felt it flutter in her core. “Want some company?”

The
flutter was moving faster at the suggestion. His eyes had grown dark, almost as
dark as the night sky, and she thought she saw something in them that begged
her to say yes. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she needed her sweatshirt any
longer, since the temperature seemed to have risen up all around her, working a
pink tint into her cheeks. She was glad it was so dark out, hopefully he
couldn’t tell this time. “Aren’t you just getting in though? You’re probably
tired...right?”

Please say yes, please say yes,
please say yes
...
she chanted in her head. The truth was she very much would’ve loved his
company, maybe a little too much, but she wasn’t certain she trusted herself
around him yet...alone...in the middle of the night. There were too many
possibilities, too many temptations that her imagination could come up with. If
she acted on any one of them, and was wrong in her assumption, well the let
down could be brutal at best.