“Where are you taking me?” I ask as I step over a girl who’s passed out in the middle of the staircase. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” he mutters. He leads us past several closed doors, a few of which emit some questionable noises. Pushing one open, I hold my breath, unsure what I’ll find on the other side, only to see a dark, quiet room.

He closes the door behind us, and it’s as if we’ve entered a whole new realm. The level of noise downstairs compared to the utter silence here makes it feel as though I’ve stuffed cotton in my ears.

“Is this your room?” I ask, taking a look around. I’ve never seen it before—like I said, we’re just friends—and I take a moment to assess my surroundings. It’s small with light gray walls. There are a couple of school flags pinned to the wall over a simple pine dresser, clothes spilling out of the open drawers. A few pairs of shoes are piled up behind the door, and Brody kicks off the pair he is wearing adding them to the top.

“Yep,” he says, and crashes face-first onto the unmade, full-sized bed.

“It’s…tidy. For a guy.” Toeing off my own shoes, I climb onto the bed and stretch out beside him. Then, I jump back up. “I’m not sitting in your cum am I?”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter and he rolls his head to the side to look up at me. “Relax, the sheets were washed earlier this week.” I give him a pointed look, because it’s been almost a full week, and I know how fast guys work. He rolls his eyes. “Come on, J. Even I don’t work that fast.”

Following his recommendation, I relax. “So, what are we doing in here?”

“Escaping,” he says.

“Why? You looked like you were having fun.”

Folding his arms under his cheek, he stares blankly at my crossed legs. “I was, but it’s nicer up here. It’s quiet.”

The music pounds through the floor, but after a few drinks, its rhythmic beat is almost soothing. “Are you drunk?”

One side of his face creases, showing off a shallow dimple. “Maybe a little.” His expression smoothes out and he reaches out to lay his hand on my shin. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Anything for you,” I say honestly, because it’s the truth. He and Annie are the only people in my life who’ve earned that distinction, and it’s because I know they feel the same about me.

“Is that right?” His honey-brown eyes gleam wickedly as he pushes up onto all fours and prowls toward me.

I stiffen because I’m not stupid. Brody loves me, and not always in a friendly way. He usually hides it well, but I’ve caught glimpses of it in the rare moments that he let his guard down. It’s even more apparent when he’s been drinking, like tonight. I’ve never brought it up to him because it will change everything. But it means I always have my eye out looking for warning signs.

This is a warning sign if ever I’ve seen one.

“What are you up to?” I ask with a tight smile, attempting to play off the anxiety that’s beginning to build. Please don’t make this awkward. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.

“How long have we known each other?” he asks, now hovering over me.

I have to tilt my head back to look into his eyes. Whatever he’s thinking, I can’t read him. “I don’t know. A few years. Why?”

He stares me down, his brown eyes holding mine and I end up holding my breath for so long I grow lightheaded. I don’t know what he planned to say, but I see in his eyes the moment he decides to go in another direction. His full lips inch up into a crooked grin. “Because you’ve never given me a massage.”

I bounce as he shifts his weight and drops down on the bed beside me. “Rub me, woman,” he says into the pillow.

Finally, my lungs inflate, and I feel a huge weight lifted. I know that’s not what he was going to say, but I’m so glad he did. Less complication, that’s what I need in my life right now.

Throwing my leg over his hips, I straddle him. “Hard, or soft?”

There’s a pause, and I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he tries to decide how to answer the question. His voice thick, he says, “Any way you want it.”

THIRTEEN

“The man is in love with you.”

Annie is the voice of reason. Always has been. But that doesn’t mean I have to like what she says. I hate when she’s right. “I know, but I can’t be what he wants me to be.”

“Why not? You’ve known each other for, like, ever. Longer than we’ve been friends. Isn’t there some kind of unwritten rule about this sort of thing? If you’re friends with someone of the opposite sex for more than five years, you have to get married?”

I wrinkle my nose as I chase a grape tomato around my plate. First thing I did after rolling out of bed this morning was call Annie and asked her to join me for lunch to catch up on last night’s party. I intended to find out about the status between her and Jason, but the conversation ended up being focused on me and my love life instead.

I shake my head, unsure how I got myself into this.

“I don’t think that exists,” I tell her.

“Well¸ then, it should. You two would make a cute couple.”

I don’t bother to respond. Cute couple or not, I just don’t look at Brody that way. Maybe if we hadn’t been friends first, but we were and we are and I just can’t see risking it all for a chance that it could turn into something more. I have few enough people in my life as it is.

“What about this other guy, the one you’re seeing. Did you talk to him yet?”

“No,” I admit, “but I think it’s run its course.”

The looks she gives me is full of apologies. “That sucks, hun. You mentioned that it was complicated between you two. Like a forbidden thing? Does that mean you still have to see him around?”

“Every day.” And it doesn’t suck as much as I thought it would. I may not get to be as close to Ransom as I want to, but he hasn’t been completely cut from my life. I’m not sure if it would have been better to have a clean break, but this arrangement feels manageable. It’s better than nothing, anyway.

“Gah, I can’t even imagine. Isn’t that hard? I mean, do you ever feel like you’re going to lose your mind if you can’t touch him?”

All the time. “Not really. We weren’t in love or anything.” I might have been in love.

I really wish she’d drop the subject, but I can tell by the flashes of excitement in her eyes that Annie is just getting started.

“Okay, you know I have to ask,” she says, holding her hands up in front of her in a stop motion. “Do I know him?”

I pack what’s left of my salad into my mouth to bide me some time to think. Revealing my relationship with Ransom could be a bad idea. But then again, our relationship is past tense. How dangerous could it be? Plus, this is Annie we’re talking about here. Being my best friend, she’s bound by the laws of friendship to take my secrets to the grave.

I hesitate. “Um… kind of, yeah.”

Her eyes grow even wider and she leans over the table, her hands coming down to grip my wrists. “Oh…my…God. Tell me!” she whispers. “Is it the English professor? Professor Hale? He’s so hot. I break into a sweat every time I go to his class.”

TMI. I laugh uncomfortably because she’s closer to the truth than she realizes. “No, although, he is pretty sexy.” Professor Hale is only a couple years older than us and has dark brown hair, deep, soulful eyes, and a perpetual five o’clock shadow. Who wouldn’t love that combination?

“Heck yeah, he is!” She grows quiet again, her gaze holding mine as if she’s trying to pluck the information out of my head. Then she starts rattling off the names of every guy we’ve ever run into, from Billy, the bartender at DJ’s, to some guy I went out on one date with two years ago. When she’s exhausted all her options, her look turns pleading.

“Just tell me,” she hisses, desperate for information. “I swear on a stack of Holy Bibles I won’t tell a soul.” I sip my soda, making her tough it out a little longer. “If you’re not going to tell me, then please just shoot me and put me out of my misery.”