They were deep rose and tiny.

“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair again and again, messing it up and not really giving a shit. The dream hadn’t been so bad tonight. Danny was beckoning me to follow him through the woods like when we were kids. I’d chased after him, eventually losing him, as usual.

Then flew into a panic when I realized he was gone. When I realized he was never coming back. I’ve had variations of the same dream for years. We could be little kids, in high school, or even the age we were the last time we were together, but it always ends up the same.

I lose him. I can’t find him. And as I search everywhere, I slowly figure out he’s never coming back. Danny is dead.

Since Jen moved in with me, she’s been there for me without asking any questions, sneaking into my bed, offering me comfort, and I always take it. Revel in it. Then pretend it never happened.

Well, no more. I need to stop acting like a coward and talk to her. Before I lose her forever.

Standing, I stride out of my room and walk with determined steps to Jen’s, conscious of the fact that I’m in my underwear and nothing else. Not the best outfit for a serious conversation, but screw it. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll invite me into her bed and we can continue where we left off earlier.

Yeah, right.

The door is shut and locked, but I have one of those tiny keys resting on top of the door frame. I reach for it, feel the cool metal beneath my fingers and grab it, jamming the key into the lock and turning it until the lock springs open. Silently I slip in, not wanting to scare her or worse, disturb her if she’s sleeping.

I hope like hell she’s not sleeping.

But she is, and disappointment crashes over me. I draw closer to her bed and see that she’s on her side facing the window, the covers tucked around her shoulders, her eyes closed and lips pursed. Without thought I settle on the edge of the bed as gently as possible, seeking her warmth. Reaching out, I touch her hair, letting the dark brown strands sift through my fingers. She’s the total opposite of me. Dark hair to my blond, chocolate-brown eyes to my pale blue ones, sweet to my bastard-like ways.

I don’t deserve her. I push her away because I know it’s true. But what would it be like to give in? Just once? And show her how much I want her . . .

Jen rolls over onto her back, a soft sigh escaping her, and I let my hand drop, holding my breath as I wait for her to wake up.

She doesn’t.

Following my instincts, I stretch out beside her on top of the comforter, slipping my arm around her waist and pulling her in. I close my eyes and rest my cheek on top of her head, breathing in her scent, absorbing her sweetness. Just having her near calms my racing heart, soothes my agitated nerves. The dream made me edgy. Her confrontation rattled me further, until all I wanted to do was sweep it under the virtual rug and pretend it never happened.

But now as we lie together and I hold her close, a sense of peace settles over me. She snuggles closer, her head resting on my shoulder, her mouth close to my neck. Her breath flutters against my skin, sending a scattering of tingles all over me, and then her lips move, damp and warm. “You won’t be able to deny we’re in bed together this time,” she says in this sexy little whisper that goes straight to my dick.

Fuck. I grab hold of her tight, moving her body so she’s beneath me, I’m straddling her hips, and we’re right back at square one. Right where we started before this all fell apart.

This time, I’m not going to let that happen.

Jen

“. . . and that was it. I said that to him and he jumped me like he was going to, you know, do me or whatever. At the very least, kiss me. But he didn’t. He stared at me like I’d grown three heads, and then he climbed off me.”

“No.”

“Yes.” I nod, getting into my pitiful story. But at least I’m telling it to Fable, who understands. Anyone else would probably laugh at me. “Right before he left, he said . . .” Pausing, I take a breath, lowering my voice so I can mimic Colin. “‘You’re right. I can’t deny it any longer.’ Then he bent over, kissed the top of my head, and walked right out of my room.”

Fable stares at me, her green eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Any other day, I’d want to laugh. We could probably laugh over this together someday because really, last night had been ridiculous. Surreal.

I’m not laughing now, though. And neither is Fable. She knows how important Colin is to me. How drawn I am to him despite not wanting to be. She gets it. She went through her own turmoil with Drew and they somehow came out the other side. The happy side.

I have the distinct feeling that’s not gonna happen for Colin and me.

“So he bailed. He was on top of you in a bed and did nothing,” Fable finally says. “And said he can’t deny it? What, are you an it now?”

Shrugging, I glance down at the table. We’re at Fable and Drew’s apartment, though Drew isn’t home. He’s at football practice and her brother, Owen, is at his high school junior varsity’s practice. Following in his sister’s boyfriend’s footsteps, which I can’t help but find cute.

“And you let him go. Didn’t say a word to him. Just let him leave.” Fable sounds completely mystified. I can relate, since I, too, am totally mystified.

And miffed. Totally, completely bent out of shape.

“What could I say to him? ‘Hey, wish you’d stay so we can finally do it?’ I don’t think so.” I’m still staring at the table, which is small and dark and perfect. I think they just bought it—I remember Fable telling me they went furniture shopping. There’s not a mark on it, not even a fleck of dust.

“If I were you, I would’ve yelled something like, ‘Don’t think you’re ever getting back in my bed, dickhead. Not with that sort of shit going down.’ I mean, the guy needs to be put in his place. He can’t just use you and leave you like that. What a jerk!” Fable is all quiet bravado and I admire that. Wish I could yell at Colin and tell him how he really makes me feel.

How much last night’s seeming rejection hurt. How he really didn’t use me. How I sometimes secretly wish he would use me. I went to his bed willingly. I always go to his bed willingly. I can’t stand to hear him suffer, hear him cry out. Sometimes he’ll say my brother’s name. Sometimes, mine.

His pain breaks my heart. It’s a pain he stifles in the light of day. That he semi-acknowledged what we have lit a flicker of hope within me.

That he walked away—again—snuffed out the feeble flame.

I do the same thing, though. I’m stifling my pain, my secret. It’s easier that way. Still doesn’t mean I understand him, though.

“I told him I was quitting, that I was leaving, all of it. He doesn’t want me to go but he didn’t really say why, either, so . . . it’s pointless for me to be here.” I finally lift my head and meet Fable’s gaze. She looks disappointed in me and I hate that. I’ve done that a lot in my life—disappoint people. I don’t mean to. It just happens.

“I don’t want you to leave. Neither does Drew.” Fable’s voice is soft. I know what she’s trying to do. “We’ll miss you, and you know I don’t say this sort of thing to just anyone. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had. Drew jokes that you defuse me and he’ll pay big money to keep you around.”

My heart pangs at Fable’s confession, at the humor she’s trying to bring to this otherwise serious conversation. She’s my first real female friend too. I was always close to my brother and, yes, Colin. But other girls? Not really. Until I moved here and met Fable and we somehow bonded.

“You’re okay with living here because this is where you grew up, and now Drew needs to finish college. And of course there’s Owen,” I say. Though I wonder what’s going to happen once Drew is recruited by the NFL, because the man is just too damn good of a player not to get recruited.