Chapter 2: What are Friends For

Did I know? Or was he about to turn the whole thing into a 'Ha ha,gotcha!' moment? Because, after all, I knew what Drew could be like. I'd known him since I was seven. My brother's best friend, he'd been a fixture of my life for pretty much as long as I could remember. I'd watched him grow up, captain the school football team and date a succession of pretty girls, do his exams and leave school.

There'd been those few years when I'd barely seen him of course, when he'd been studying at Manchester University and then working in London at a top law firm, courtesy of his first class honours degree. But then, much to everyone's disbelief, he'd thrown in his job and returned home, securing a much less high-powered position at Hunter Mills in Oxford. When questioned about it, he'd only say that he'd realised life in the fast lane wasn't for him.

The fact that I never pushed him for further details was probably one of the reasons our easy friendship had picked up where it left off. And I know this might sound strange, but hand on heart, it'd never occurred to me that our relationship could ever amount to more than just that: friendship.

"Option two," I said slowly, pretending to mull over the possible alternatives, readying myself for his 'just kidding' line. "That'd be the option where you tell me that actually, you've just realised you're gay, right? That's why you dumped Kayleigh last week. You couldn't go on living a lie."

"I didn't dump Kayleigh," Drew said calmly. "We had a very grown-up conversation and decided it wasn't to our mutual benefit to carry on seeing each other. And as for being gay..." His fingers tightened over my shoulder as he twisted me around to face him. "I think I'd have no trouble at all proving to you that I'm not."

Whoa.

My mouth went dry as I saw the glint of promise in those velvety brown eyes. Hewasn't kidding. "It would change everything," I got out eventually, shaking my head.

"Only if we let it." Drew's gaze was unflinching upon mine. "Depends on how you look at it. If you were just to look at it as me doing a favour for a friend..."

A favour? I swallowed hard. "But then I'd owe you."

He grinned, those tiny dimples reappearing. "I'm sure I could think of something you could do in return."

I was certain he could.

"Oh!" I wailed, shrugging helplessly. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Say now? "Drew—"

"All right." With a placating smile, he lifted a hand and brushed my hair back from my face, causing another tingle to zing through my traitorous body. "How about option three? I'll book a hotel room for the two of us for Friday night. Champagne, room service, super-king-sized bed."

I felt my eyes widen.

"But you get to decide what we do," he added quickly. "We don't have to do anything, in fact. We could just slob about in bathrobes, watch movies all night and get rip-roaring drunk."

Now that was an idea. "The Park?" I prompted carelessly, not expecting him to agree for a moment. It was the most expensive hotel in town; I'd always wanted to spend a night there.

"Bloody hell, woman." But Drew was laughing again. "Sure, why not? It's your birthday after all." And leaning forward, he planted a kiss on my forehead.

"What?" Astonished, I gazed at him for a moment in silence, the butterflies in my tummy flapping wildly. "You'd really—you'd really do that for me?"

Drew smiled, allowing his shoulders to rise and fall in a slight shrug. "You're my best friend, Sam," he said simply. "Isn't that what mates do?"

Mates.

I thought long and hard about the word after he'd gone. And no, I concluded at last, asking your best mate to relieve you of your virginity was something you really shouldn't do.

"Fuck," I muttered aloud, startling Bluey, my parents' long-haired Persian cat, as he stalked across the kitchen towards his newly-replenished bowl ofKitty-Crunch. "Yes, you heard me," I went on grimly. "I said 'fuck', okay? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,fuck."

He gave me a baleful look.

"Well." I glared back. "It's all your bloody fault. If you'd just gone to a cattery like any normal cat. But not you, huh, Your Royal Highness?"

Bluey was the reason I'd temporarily moved back home. My parents, seemingly hell-bent on spending every last penny of their hard-earned savings, were currently on a three-week luxury cruise of the Caribbean. And why not? It was a great way to avoid the worst of a British winter, and besides, I wanted them to have some fun now that Dad had retired. Well, to at least try to have fun, anyway.

But if I hadn't been staying at Mum and Dad's place, Drew wouldn't have stopped off on his way home from work, would he? He wouldn't have seen the light on in the living room and guessed I was there. And then we wouldn't have sent out for a Chinese takeaway, we wouldn't have drunk that bottle of wine—well, because Drew was driving, I drank most of it—and I wouldn't have been so stupid as to blurt out the first thing that came into my mind when he asked what I wanted for my birthday.

Why couldn't I have asked for a box of chocolates?

The phone rang, startling me so much I actually shrieked. Reaching across the counter, I picked up the phone, my gaze shooting to the clock on the wall. Ten past midnight. Who the hell could be calling now? "Hello?"

"All booked," Drew said.

"Booked?" I echoed stupidly, the light dawning a second after I'd spoken.

Oh God...

"What, already?" Even though I'd just checked the time, I couldn't help looking at the clock again.

"Uh huh." There was a distinct note of masculine pride in his voice. "The reception desk at thePark is manned twenty-four seven, so I thought, why not call them straightaway? You'll be pleased to hear we'll be occupying The Regent Suite."

"Asuite?"

"Mmm." He sounded amused. "See, I figured if we had two rooms, two beds, we could decide on the night whether—or not..."

A lump rose in my throat as he left the sentence hanging. "But that must've cost a fortune!" I spluttered, another surge of heat rushing to my face. "Listen, you have to let me pay half—"

"No bloody way. I can afford it, you know that. And it's your birthday, Sam. I wouldn't dream of letting you pay. Besides..." When he hesitated, I could almost hear him smiling. "I can't believe how much I'm looking forward to this already."

Help. "Drew..."

"Hey." His tone softened. "I meant what I said. Far as I'm concerned, we're two mates who're gonna spend a night living it large at a posh hotel. And come the morning, we'll nick all the toiletries and see if we can smuggle out the bathrobes."

I closed my eyes as I slumped against the counter top, the beginnings of a helpless smile curving my lips. "You sure there'll even be any bathrobes?"

"Oh yes. I checked."

I bet he had as well. I wouldn't have had the nerve.

"So I'll pick you up on Friday, okay? About six o'clock. Will you still be at your parents' house?"

"No." I shook my head, even though he couldn't see me. "They'll be back by then, thank God." All sun-tanned and looking sickeningly healthy, no doubt.

"Excellent. Well, in that case, I'll pick you up from your place. See you then."

"Wait!" I wailed, realising he was about to ring off. "What do I pack? What should I wear? What do I need to bring to stay in a place like that?"

"Just yourself." Once again I could hear the laughter in his voice. "We're not even going to leave the room, remember? And I don't give a toss what you wear." There was a pause. "Whether you wear anything, in fact."

"Drew!"

"N'night Sam," he interrupted, deadpan now.

"Sleep tight, gorgeous."