Three years ago, Simon Tribar was the cockiest, smuggest, man Madison had ever met. It was chance that they became co-workers, and while at first she had detested him, years of knowing him had given him a new title in her life: her best friend.

“Remind me, what’s this dish called?” she called out, watching Simon set the oven timer.

“I can’t tell you.”

“You could, but won’t, right?” He shrugged, giving her a look that told her to give up. He had the best poker face of anyone she knew.

For the past few weeks, Simon had invited her over multiple times, proclaiming that he needed someone with unbiased opinions to give what he considered honest feedback. He had a rough start, with half of his dishes either burnt, undercooked, or so hot that she had been forced to chug an entire gallon of milk throughout the evening. It had become one of their favorite running jokes.

“You remembered the milk, right?” she asked, getting up and opening the fridge, secretly looking for potential clues to what was now cooking in the oven.

He slammed the door shut, her fingers narrowly missed. An exasperated sigh left his lips. He pointed to the counter, where the milk sat. “Stay over there, Sherlock. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

With her glass of milk, she retreated to the couch, looking over the back as he pulled out a steaming dish covered with aluminum foil out of the oven. It smelled…good. Heavenly.

A couple of minutes later, Simon handed her a plate. She couldn’t exactly tell what it was, but she saw a chicken breast buried underneath the sauce. Simon waited patiently, clearly hanging on to her every movement.

It was incredible. The chicken was tender and moist, with hints of parmesan and tomato in the sauce.

“Mmm,” She moaned. “Oh my god. Okay, fess up. What have you done with the real Simon?”

A sly smile fell over his lips as he began digging into his own plate. Setting her plate down on the coffee table, she turned to face him. Simon had always been someone with a hard exterior. But something was changing in him when he cooked. The more dishes he made, the more he was throwing himself into it, and the better the dishes were turning out.

“You haven’t reached for that yet,” he said, motioning to the glass that sat beside her plate. “So that’s a good sign, right?”

“I don’t need it. I’m not kidding Simon, this dish is truly out of this world.” There would be no way she’d be leaving here without a container to take home.

“It’s called ‘Marry Me Chicken,” he explained. She nodded. That made sense, because she wanted to marry this chicken too. “I came across it last week in my feeds, and thought it would make for the perfect end-of-week treat.”

They ate in silence, devouring their plates in record time, then tidied up the kitchen together. As Simon finished loading in the last pot into the dishwasher, she ran and flipped on the television, their favorite show waiting for them.

Grabbing the blanket off the chair, he tossed it at her, before sitting down beside her. He smelled like dish soap, mixed with the aroma of dinner. He smelled…cozy. Cozy? Where did that come from? She’d never thought about Simon in that way before. If anything, he felt…like Simon. Her best friend.

“Are you listening to me?” Simon had his arm outstretched for her, signaling to cuddle in beside him. A lump was forming in her throat. She had to change the conversation, quick.

“Look at this,” she said, syncing her phone to his television, a music video coming over the screen. “It’s my new obsession.” Music to her, was like cooking to Simon. It was their ways of removing their hardened exteriors, their vulnerabilities on display for each to see.

“Ooo yeah,” Simon said, getting up, dancing to the beat of the music. “This is the shit. C’mon, Maddie, get up here.” Simon grabbed her hand, placing his other on her waist.

Simon…can dance? Like…actually dance. He twirled her around, before bringing her back to his chest.

The music had completely overtaken him. His eyes were shut, and he was moving them to the rhythm of the song. He looked so at peace. She honestly wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him like this.

It was evident that she was the only one paying attention to what the song itself was about. It was titled ‘I feel like Dancing’ and even though it was about dancing, she felt like the song might as well be titled ‘I feel like I’m falling for you.’

The song came to an eventual stop, and they were still holding each other. Being close like this wasn’t foreign to them. They’d practically done everything two people could do – besides kissing. Or sleeping together. But they’d snuggled on the couch, held hands (just so neither of them fell on any icy sidewalks). He’d even washed her hair when she had refused his hand once, and fallen on her arm, giving her a hairline fracture.

He felt her stiffen in his arms, and immediately let go of her. “You good?” He asked.

She nodded and unconnected her phone from his television, switching it back to their favorite show. He flopped down on the couch, opened up the blanket, and motioned for her to come closer. “Warm enough?” He asked, and she nodded. She truly didn’t need the blanket, she was burning up inside.

Maddie sneaked occasional glances at Simon, partially relieved that he seemed oblivious to the internal struggle she was enduring. He laughed in time with the audience, and Maddie smiled in turn. They’d made it through two episodes like this.

Simon grabbed the remote, setting the show to pause. “Alright, lay it on me. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking why did you stopped the show during the best part.”

“Nope. No deflecting.” He turned to face her. “I know you Maddie, and you haven’t laughed once and this episode is hilarious.” Maddie fiddled with the creases in the blanket, wondering if she could suddenly create a poker face as good as his.

“It’s literally all good,” She said, annunciating each word like a rebellious teenager. Now she was getting mad. Getting up, she went over and picked out a beer from the fridge, calling out to him “Am I grabbing one or two?”

He grabbed the beer out of her hand, setting it on the counter. “Zero. There are rules in this house. Rule number one: no beer until you decide to be honest with me.”

“Since when?” She snapped.

“Since ten seconds ago.” he snapped back.

She made a beeline past him, snatching the beer off the counter, returning to the couch. She used the blanket to uncap the bottle, then began chugging like her life depended on it. With enough alcohol coating her insides, she jabbed a finger in his direction.

“You know what the problem is, Simon? You really want to know? We danced tonight! Like, actually danced.” Simon looked at her, completely dumbfounded. She could practically see the wheels trying to piece it together.

“Okay,” he said, his arms crossed over his chest. “And?”

“And I liked it!” She shot back. She got up, jabbing her finger at his chest. “And you did too! And dinner! What on earth was that about? You making me food like that, like…”

Her breathing was ragged. She was all worked up.

Simon eyed her. “Like what?”

Like you could love me, she thought. His normally just hazel eyes were almost black, standing this close to him. Black, but yet…warm.

Simon pushed the hair out of her face, meeting her gaze. Without thinking, he bent down, kissing her. His lips were soft, and tender. He pulled back, staring wide eyed at her.

After a moment, he smiled. “Like I could love you,” he whispered.

She nodded. “Like you could love me,” She whispered.

Simon shook his head, letting go of her, pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his own hair. It was so quiet, she could hear his neighbor’s dog yapping in the front yard.

This was far too humiliating for Maddie. They’d had the greatest friendship she could’ve ever asked for, and within five minutes, she’d managed to make it weird and awkward. She went and grabbed her coat and boots, trying to make herself invisible.

“Mad’s, what are you doing?” Simon followed her to the entryway, staring the coat in her hands. “Put that back.”

Maddie shook her head. Tears were coming, and she didn’t want Simon to see that he had unintentionally broken her heart. He didn’t deserve that.

“I’ve ruined it,” she said, motioning her arm across the room. “This. Us.”

Simon walked tentatively towards her, almost like if he stepped too quickly, he’d frighten her and she’d bolt.

He grabbed her wrists. “I do love you, Mad’s.”

“That’s not what I mean. We say we love each other, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” They always said they’d loved each other after each phone call, but that was a different kind of love. That was like a sibling-type love. What she felt for him was definitely not brotherly love.

Simon arched his eyebrows. “When I tell you that I love you, I mean it.” He bent down to meet her stare. “I love that you’re my best friend, the person that understands all of my moods, the person who always gives me her honest feedback, even when my meals could potentially melt off all of your taste buds.”

She smiled at that.

He continued on. “But more than that, I love that when I’m with you, I don’t feel like I have to have this hard exterior. You just make me feel like…me.”

His words hung between them like a heavy blanket. Except instead of feeling awkward this time, she felt…comfortable. She intertwined her fingers with his, staring up at him.

“Is that…it?”

“It?”

“I mean…where do we go from here?” She asked, truly unsure how to proceed.

He led her back to the couch, motioning for her to sit. “If it’s all the same to you Mad’s, I’d like to keep watching my favorite show, except this time with the woman I love.”