Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: I hate myself for being so cheesy

I craned my neck, trying to stretch out my muscles. They were rigid and tense from the hours I spent daily hunched over my desk.

"Need a massage?" His voice came from behind me. I turned around to meet his eyes, and he lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

"Normally I would say 'no' due to the fact that you're blatantly flirting and all, but right now I really do need a massage." I replied. "Also, you really should knock before climbing onto my balcony and walking into my room. I could be changing,"

"Too bad you weren't," he whispered seductively in my ear, giving me shivers. He's your friend I reminded myself, just a friend. Practically since the day I'd met Troy Bolton he had flirted with me, that's just who he was. It didn't mean anything. My thoughts were interrupted when I felt his warm hands rest on my neck. I snapped out of my head and focused on reality. Maybe agreeing to this massage wasn't such a great idea, I thought to myself as his hands ran over my shoulders. They were rough and calloused from all the basketball he played. They were also incredibly strong; he continued kneading my shoulders with minimal effort.

"Damn Gabi how did you get so tense?" He murmured. I tried to shrug in response but his hands were constricting my shoulders. He moved to the base of my neck, rubbing circles with his fingers. I desperately tried to think of a distraction.

"Hey didn't you have a date tonight?" I asked, he mentioned that he was going out with someone named Hailey a few days ago.

"God don't remind me," He moaned, "that girl is lucky she's good-looking, because she has absolutely no personality. I ended the date early and told her I just wanted to be friends," I smiled at the fact that his date had gone poorly, and then scolded myself for thinking that.

"You're such a heart-breaker" I teased, although it did hold quite a bit of truth. He never stayed serious with a girl, in the two years I'd known him the longest relationship he had was three dates. He chuckled behind me, his whole body shook when he laughed, and I felt it through his hands.

"At least I had plans on a Friday night," he replied, "rather than just sitting in my room and reading,"

"As a matter of fact I enjoyed my night, while by the sound of it you had a terrible one," I pointed out.

"It's looking up," his voice was quieter again and breathy, closer to my ear. It took all my willpower not to turn around and kiss him. Instead I shook the feeling off, and playfully whacked his arm. I could feel him smiling as he leaned back again, re-focusing his attention to the knots in my neck.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, something that we did quite often. We had spent so much time in the other's presence that we frequently reached comfortable silence. I relaxed under his touch, this was my friend, and there was no need to feel nervous around him, I was being silly. My heart beat gradually slowed and I unconsciously leaned back. My back connected with his torso, I felt his hard muscles tense when I rested against him, and mine tensed as well. Upon realizing what I had just done I was about to sit back up when his arms wrapped around my stomach, holding me close to him. He was breathing heavily, while I was holding my breath. I shoved common sense to the back of my mind and I relaxed into him, all I could think about was how close we were right now. It would be so easy for me to kiss him right now; I would just have to turn my head a little…

The next thing I knew I had shifted and my lips were on his. And he was kissing me back; it started out sweet and soft, and quickly progressed into something more passionate. He turned me around so that I was facing him and guided me down so that he was on top of me now. I reached up and ran my fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair, while his arms lay on either side of me, propping him up.

Then as fast as it had begun, it was over. He withdrew hastily, rolling off of me and to the far side of the bed. I lay there stunned, while he started ranting.

"You're my best friend," he said quickly, "my best friend. I just kissed my best friend, no I just made out with my best friend," His blue eyes grew wide at the realization. "This is not good, really not good," he continued on, pushing himself off the bed and began pacing the room.

"Sorry," I said timidly, "I didn't mean to," He stopped pacing to stare at me quizzically. "I initiated it,"

He shook his head quickly, "No I did, I'm the one that offered the massage,"

"I'm the one that agreed," I rebutted.

"I whispered in your ear,"

"I leaned back,"

"I wrapped my hands around your waist,"

"I kissed you,"

"I kissed you back,"

I rolled my eyes; even in a situation like this our constant need to prove that we were the one that was right took over.

"I wasn't thinking clearly" I mumbled to myself, "I know better than to act on my crush,"

Instantly I hit myself for saying that, praying that he didn't hear. Unfortunately I had no such luck. I looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes even wider than before.

"How long?" He asked softly,

"It doesn't matter," I replied, bracing myself for the 'we're-just-friends' talk.

"How long?" He asked again, this time more sternly.

"About 10 months," I admitted. That set him off.

"10 months? Really Gabs? I've liked you for a year and a half and you're sitting there telling me that we could've been together 10 months ago?" He was full-on yelling now; raking his hands threw his hair.

"A year and a half?" I said, matching his tone.

"Yes a year and a half," he replied, as if this wasn't big news. I stared at him in shock, as he continued to pace around my room. I returned my gaze to the bedspread, trying to process all this information. I heard him continue walking, and then felt his hand under my chin. He lifted my head to meet his, and stared at me intensely. It was like he was searching for something he couldn't find.

Then he leaned forward, and placed his lips on mine.