The Friend Zone(59)

She was home.

It was hard to see how much he affected her. This was the second time I’d seen her crying and both times had been over him.

The jealousy was almost more than I could handle.

This woman was mine. She was mine, not his. Why couldn’t he have stayed away from her? Let her just get over him?

But then I realized the truth. She wasn’t mine—she never was.

I’m hers.

And it’s not the same thing.

I’d been fine being patient, because I was just waiting for her to come out of it. I hadn’t been braced for him to come back into her life. And now, faced with the reality that I might lose her altogether, I realized what I’d known for weeks.

I’m in love with her.

And now this guy that I couldn’t even begin to compete with might take her from me.

I felt helpless. Panicked. A fight response triggered inside and it had nowhere to go, because I couldn’t do shit about this. All I could do was be me, and that wasn’t good enough.

A sex thing. It will only ever be a sex thing.

She raised her head and planted a soft kiss under my chin, and it almost broke my fucking heart. She was never like this with me. And as much as I loved it, it was all fueled by her feelings for someone else. He hurt her and I was here, so I got to be the one to comfort her.

But it was something. At least I could do something for her beyond just scratching an itch.

She was with me, holding me. Letting me hold her. I needed to enjoy the moment because I didn’t know how many more of them I’d get.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced down the lump in my throat, tried to focus on her breath on my neck, her cheek pressed to my collarbone—the vulnerability she was giving me that I only ever saw when she was sleeping curled up next to me on those nights when she let me in.

I vowed to make tonight fun so she’d forget.

And so I’d have something to remember when she left.





TWENTY-FOUR





Kristen




I stumbled off the stage, laughing hysterically. Josh caught me at the bottom of the steps as I collided with his chest. I felt the rumble of his laughter through his T-shirt.

He wore the shirt I’d stolen from him the day we met. The brewery one. It looked so good on him. His broad back, his tapered waist, the fabric tight over his contoured chest. I took a deep breath and tried to capture the scent I’d smelled that day when I wore it, that masculine cedar that was Josh. Once I had it, I held my breath, not wanting to let it go.

I’d had a smidge too much to drink.

We’d taken a shot before we went on, and I had already been two beers in. We’d just rapped “No Diggity” together, and I’d cracked up through half of it. Josh was pretty good. He did dance moves and everything.

I slipped my arms around his waist, hooking my fingers behind his back, and he held me to him, smiling down at me.

I put my chin to his chest. “I’m only hugging you because those cougars over there have their eye on you,” I lied. “It’s my duty as your friend to protect you from impending cougar attacks.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for clearing that up. I was afraid for a second there you were hugging me for real.”

I would do everything with you. For real.

“I have a confession,” I said, gazing up at him. “I don’t really think you’re a bad driver.”

He gave me an amused smile.

“What?” I bit my lip.

“I’m just thinking about something Shawn said the other day. That drunks and leggings always tell the truth.”

I snorted. “I am not drunk. I’m just talking in cursive. And Shawn is an idiot. Have you ever had the urge to tell someone to shut the fuck up when they aren’t even talking? That’s how I feel literally every time I see his face.” I narrowed my eyes. “Although, there is some truth to that legging thing…”

He laughed, the smile creasing his eyes at the corners.

I pushed my lip out into a pout. “Josh? I need hot wings.”

He released me. “Yes, ma’am.”

We walked back to our red booth to a poorly sung Lola Simone song, and he placed an order.

I took a long drink of my beer. “Why do guys always sit facing the door?” I asked, licking my lips.

He smiled at me. “Do we?” He looked over my shoulder at the entrance. “Huh. I guess we do. Maybe it’s some protective instinct. So I can keep an eye out for danger. Keep my sword arm free to protect you.” His dimples flashed.

God.

Tyler was handsome in a chiseled sort of way. Like a model in a black-and-white cologne commercial. But Josh. Oh God—Josh. He melted me. He was a teddy bear. A warm, gorgeous, delicious piece of everything.

I wished I could let him in. Let him be my boyfriend if he wanted to. He’d said the morning after we’d first hooked up that we could be exclusive. He would. He wanted to.

He would lock the house up before bed and kiss me good night. He’d throw his shirts on my chair and I wouldn’t even complain about it. Stuntman could sleep with us because he likes Josh. And when he went to work, I could text him and tell him I miss him, and he would say it back, and if I got mouthy, he’d just laugh at me and handle me like he always did. He just let my moods roll off him, like nothing about me scared him, and it made me feel like I could be myself around him. Like the only time I really was myself was when I was around him.