Tiffany stood in the shower as the hot water beat down on her. She leaned against the wall, and the water washed away the stress of the night. She didn’t remember much of what happened after swimming away from the island, there was just a jabbing pain in her side and the rest was a blur.
She could handle pain. That had become second nature to her. But what was playing over and over in her mind was the terrified expression on Jonathan’s face when she’d come to.
She’d felt his fear, and that was almost as terrifying as the thought that she’d almost drowned. And it wasn’t helping that he was doting on her like a broken china doll.
She wanted things to go back to normal—no, she needed them to. Not only did Sean break her heart, but now her best friend was acting weird around her. She prided herself on being able to take care of herself, and having Jonathan insist on doing things for her was bringing out a side of her that she didn’t like. But she couldn’t help it. She was so used to being the one thing standing between her and a broken heart.
And when her father left, saying he was relieved to dump the burden that had been dragging him down, she couldn’t help but project that onto every aspect of her life. She couldn’t be a burden to the people she loved. She just couldn’t. Jonathan loved her as a friend now, but what was she going to do when he decided that he didn’t? Rejection from him wasn’t something she could come back from. If he left her, too, she’d have no one.
Sighing, she grabbed the shampoo and lathered it up. Once she was clean, she grabbed a towel to wrap up her hair and then wrapped another around her body.
She stepped out onto the plush bathmat and wiped at the fog on the mirror in front of her. After staring at her blotchy skin and tired eyes, she sighed and opened the door. Just as she was about to walk out, Jonathan appeared.
He’d showered as well and was now wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. His eyebrow raised as his gaze roamed over her. Her skin heated from the intensity of his gaze. Then, as quickly as it came, he dropped it and cleared his throat. “Here’s some pajamas,” he said, holding them out for her.
Tiffany took the stack of clothes. “Thanks,” she said. For the first time, she felt very aware of the fact that she was wearing only a towel.
Since when did she care about that around Jonathan? He was her friend. That was it.
She was more than ready to get to bed and sleep off the weirdness of this whole evening. So she turned and made her way back into the bathroom, where she slipped into his old t-shirt and gym shorts.
After pulling her hair up into a messy bun at the top of her head, she forced herself not to look at the mirror. No need to see what she already knew—she was a hot mess.
She opened up the bathroom door and turned off the light. She made her way down the hall to the guest bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Jonathan asked.
Tiffany stopped and slowly turned. “The guest room.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Not tonight. Doc said I have to keep an eye on you. You’re bunking with me.” He pointed his finger toward his room, as if that was all it was going to take to get her in there.
She folded her arms. “Are you trying to get me into your bed?” she asked.
Jonathan’s cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Um. No.”
Startled by his reaction, Tiffany let out a laugh. “I was just joking.” Realizing that she may have crossed a line, she walked over to him. “I know you see me as a sister,” she said as she punched his arm.
Jonathan winced and nodded. “Of course.”
Ignoring the fact that his words sounded slightly forced, she made her way into his room. It hadn’t changed much since they were kids. Except for the treadmill in the corner.
“Yours?” she asked as she made her way over to the bed and sat down.
Jonathan smiled and shook his head. “Naw, that’s Dad’s.”
She nodded as she scooted back against the headboard.
“Knock knock.” Tiffany turned to see Mrs. Braxton make her way into the room. Her gaze roamed over Tiffany and a smile emerged on her lips. “You look better. That shower did you some good.”
Tiffany nodded. “It was needed.” She’d always liked Mrs. Braxton. She’d always acted like a second mother to Tiffany since her actual mother was some deadbeat who’d left her when things got hard.
Mrs. Braxton set a plate of cookies and two steaming mugs on the nightstand next to Tiffany then she straightened and glanced around.
“Well, then. I’ll leave you two to your sleep.” She turned and stuck her finger against Jonathan’s chest. “I’m right down the hall,” she said in a tone that sounded more threatening than informative.
Jonathan held up his hands. “We’re just going to be sleeping.”
Mrs. Braxton narrowed her eyes. “Better be.”
Confused by the feelings that crept up in her stomach at Mrs. Braxton’s implication, Tiffany reached over and grabbed a cookie. Maybe it was better if she just focused on eating, instead of dissecting the whole vibe of the room.
Once Mrs. Braxton was gone, the air around them lightened. Jonathan made his way over to his old closet and grabbed out a few extra blankets and began shaking them out onto the floor.
“What are you doing?” Tiffany asked as she peeked over at him.
“I’ve got to sleep somewhere.”
Noting the size of the twin mattress underneath her, Tiffany nodded. “Yeah. You’re too big to fit on here with me.”
“Yep.” Then he hesitated. “Should I be worried about my weight or something? This is the second time you’ve talked about my size.” He glanced in the mirror above the dresser on the other side of the room and then turned to the side, sucking in his stomach.
Tiffany rolled her eyes and chucked a pillow in his direction. “You couldn’t pinch an inch if you wanted to.”
The pillow slammed into his back, and Jonathan turned and shot her a fake hurt look. “Oh, it’s on,” he said, grabbing the pillow and diving at her.
Squealing, Tiffany reached for another pillow as protection. She held it up, but it was futile. Jonathan was much stronger. She crawled to the corner of the bed and held up her pillow. “I surrender!” she exclaimed. Her sides hurt from laughter.
This was what she needed. Getting back to their easy relationship made her feel better. Like she wasn’t a weight wrapped around Jonathan’s neck, dragging him down.
Jonathan threw his pillow down to the ground and collapsed on the bed. He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. His laughter died down, and a serious expression passed over his face.
Nerves built up inside of Tiffany, so she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. Gathering her courage, she met his gaze.
The pain and guilt there almost took her breath away. Jonathan had been worried about her. Reaching out, she grabbed onto his hand and held it. Warmth raced up her skin and exploded in her body.
“I’m okay,” she said, surprised at the depth in her voice.
Jonathan dropped his gaze and studied their hands. Then he glanced back up at her. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. You’re my best friend.”
Tiffany nodded, tears filling her eyes. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”
Jonathan fell silent and then flipped to his back. He pulled his hand away to rest it on his chest. She could see his slow and steady breathing. In a weird way, it was really calming.
“That was weird, huh?” he asked.
Confused, she turned her gaze up to the ceiling. “What?”
Jonathan closed his lips and silence filled the air. Finally, he spoke after what felt like an eternity. “What my mom was implying.”
Tiffany almost choked on her tongue. “You mean about the two of us?” It was almost too weird to even talk about hypothetically.
Jonathan nodded.
Tiffany had no idea what she was supposed to say to that. That was one place she’d never gone to. Jonathan was just that. Jonathan. She’d never allowed herself to think of him in that way.
“I—um…” Nothing wanted to leave her lips that made any sense, so she decided the best thing to do was to shut them and never speak again.
Jonathan laughed as he sat up. “I’m just joking,” he said as he turned and shoved her shoulder. “Geez, you should see your face. You’re white as a ghost.”
A relieved laugh escaped her lips. She reached out and shoved his shoulder. “Don’t ever do that again, weirdo,” she said, grabbing a pillow and flopping down onto it. She then pressed her feet against him, hoping he’d get the hint.
Jonathan’s chuckle filled the air as he slipped from the bed and onto the floor. After a few minutes, the sound of him adjusting the blankets subsided and silence filled the air.
Even though it was weird to talk about them being anything but best friends, there was still this strange feeling rising up in her stomach. Their duo had almost stopped today. And Jonathan had been the one to save her.
“Jonathan?” she asked as she stared up at the dark ceiling above her.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for saving my life. So…thanks.”
Silence. Had she said the wrong thing? She turned onto her side to peek over the edge of the mattress.
Jonathan sighed. “You don’t ever have to thank me for something like that. You’re my best friend, and I’m here to protect you. Now, go to sleep.”
Tiffany felt a smile spread across her lips as she bunched her blanket up in her arms and hugged it to her chest. What Jonathan had said was true. Despite the people that came in and out of their lives, they were always friends, and nothing was ever going to change that.
The sun beat in through the window the next morning, pulling Tiffany from her sleep. She groaned and twisted, hoping to bury her face in her blankets.
Suddenly, a pillow whacked her in the face, and she bolted up. “Hey,” she said, grabbing the pillow and throwing it back at Jonathan.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, sleep still clinging to his gaze. “What are you doing, crazy lady?” he asked as he grabbed the pillow and threw it back.
Just as she grabbed it to retaliate, Jonathan stood and pulled it from her.
“Let me take that for you,” he said, holding it high in the air.
Tiffany glared at him. “You couldn’t have let me sleep for a few minutes longer?”
Jonathan fluffed the pillow and then set it at the head of his makeshift bed. “I smell bacon and pancakes. Mom’s cooking breakfast, and it’s best fresh.”
Tiffany cheered as she pulled off the blankets and slipped her feet onto the floor. “Race you there?” she squealed as she rushed past him and over to the door.
“Cheater!” Jonathan exclaimed, but that didn’t stop Tiffany. Instead, she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen where she saw a very wide-eyed Sondra.
Her gaze swept over Tiffany. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?”
Tiffany nodded, suddenly realizing that she’d just slept over at Jonathan’s house and had no idea what she looked like. Feeling self-conscious, she reached up and began to run her fingers through her hair, wincing as she caught a few snarls along the way.
The sound of Jonathan’s feet clomping down the stairs caused her to move away and over to the corner.
“Ma, will you tell Tiffany that cheaters are not allowed in the Braxton house?” Jonathan asked, winking at Tiffany as he folded his arms.
Sondra tapped her chin. “Did she call out the start of the race?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“I did too,” Tiffany said, stepping closer to him.
Sondra shrugged as she wiped her hands on her apron and returned to the griddle where bacon was crackling. “Seems legit to me.”
Jonathan dropped his jaw and then turned to Tiffany. “It’s on,” he mouthed.
The sound of a bowl clattering in the sink drew Jonathan’s attention. Tiffany followed his gaze to see Mrs. Braxton standing over the sink, her shoulders slumped as she stared at it.
“You okay, Ma?” Jonathan asked as he walked over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Realizing that she’d been so selfish, Tiffany walked over to her.
Mrs. Braxton sighed as she glanced at both of them. “Grandpa’s having health problems. I’m going to need to head to Jordan to help.”
Jonathan nodded. “Anything we can do?”
Mrs. Braxton shook her head. “No. Josh is running my jam booth at the fair.”
Tiffany glanced up at Jonathan. He dropped his gaze. “We can help out, too. We’ll go over as soon as we can.”
Mrs. Braxton turned and wrapped her arms around Jonathan. “It’s so good to have you home,” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.
Jonathan patted her back. “It’s good to be back.”
After Mrs. Braxton slipped on her shoes, she shouldered her purse and gave him a wave. “I’ll see you two tonight?”
Jonathan glanced over at Tiffany. “Probably.”
A content look passed over her face as she smiled. “Perfect.”
Once she was gone, Tiffany slipped onto a chair at the table and dished up a few pancakes. She poured syrup on them and watched from the corner of her eye as Jonathan walked over to the coffee pot and began to fill up a mug.
“Oh, get me one too,” she said, pointing her fork at him.
Jonathan quirked an eyebrow but nodded. Once a second mug was filled, he carried it over to her and set it down.
They sat in silence. Jonathan filled a plate and dug in while Tiffany sipped her coffee.
It felt nice, sitting next to Jonathan. For some reason, she never felt like she had to fill the silence. Being with Jonathan felt as natural as breathing.
“What?” Jonathan asked with his mouth full of pancake.
Tiffany shrugged as a smile spread across her lips. “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re back.”
Jonathan’s expression softened as he studied her. Then he gave her a wink and stabbed his pancakes with his fork. “I’m happy too.”
She stuck out her hand. “Friends forever?”
Jonathan studied her hand and then met it, shaking it exaggeratedly. “Friends forever. Now, can we eat?”
Tiffany nodded. “Of course.”