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Two months ago, she smiled at me for the first time. Looked at Penny and my brother, Cooper, then back at me and smiled, and I swear the universe tilted on its axis for half a second. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do a fucking thing but look at that smile and melt. I can see that face in my mind in perfect detail: the slightest little gap between her two front teeth. The black lipstick. The winged eyeliner and earthy brown eyes.
“Fine.” She makes a show of kissing Julio on the cheek. “You know where to find me.” I pull her close. So we can dance, sure, but to feel her, to experience her warmth. “You couldn’t have picked one of the two dozen hockey players in this house to tease me with?”
I grin at her. Maybe there’s part of her—even if it’s buried—that likes my smile. I shouldn’t hope so, but God, I do.
It’s easier to jump headfirst into hookups and parties with every bit of my spare time than think about him, after all. Sebastian Miller-Callahan. Disgustingly nice. Disgustingly good at making me come. Disgustingly good at baseball, too, and that’s something that should have tipped me off—it’s never easy with athletes.
None of that involves a certain green-eyed baseball player. I’m the one who walked out on him, anyway. I bet he hasn’t thought about me at all.
I still showed up for the date we planned—I waited over two hours just in case she’d show—but she ghosted me. I don’t want to admit that to my own brother. Not when his girlfriend is Mia’s best friend.
Sebastian Miller-Callahan. Sebastian, who has been smiling at me ever since the movie theater last fall. Sebastian, who calls me sweet when I come. Sebastian, who threw a punch for me. Who the hell does that?
Someone screams. The sound pierces the air, sending me scrambling. I nearly knock Regina over in my haste to get to the door. She calls after me, but I ignore it, thundering down the stairs two at a time. My heart is in my throat, beating in time with my breath. I know that scream. Delighted in that scream. But this isn’t a sound of pleasure. This is panic. And it belongs to Mia.
Even as wet as a sewer rat, Mia di Angelo is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Relief runs through me in a torrent. She’s scowling. Practically snarling. She looks like an angel, her beautiful dark eyes shining with emotion. She reminds me of Tangerine when Cooper gives her a bath, petulant and displeased with the entire situation, but at least she’s physically okay.
He does look up then. “Why would I care about that?” I pull away. We’re in my room—Penny is with Cooper, again; they went to the Rangers game with his parents—and my body protests leaving the cocoon of warmth, of him. I wrap my arms around my legs, resting my chin on my knees. I told myself that this wouldn’t affect me. It’s a fair question to ask the guy I’ve been sleeping with, exclusively, for months now. “People assume so many negative things about me because of it. My parents—they barely understand. I try not to talk about it with them.”
heart. “It’s part of you. Part of what makes you Mia. I like you, Mia. Every part.”
“You don’t want to crash with me, fine, but call Penny’s dad, then. Don’t fuck a stranger for the privilege of a bed.” “Maybe I just liked him.” He laughs shortly. “I know what you like, sweetheart, and that’s not it.”
Maybe I did love her. Not consciously, not completely, not in the way my brothers have given themselves to their partners—but something pretty fucking close. Maybe I mistook the way she touched me, the way she kissed me, for real affection, when it was just another mask.
It’s not the same, because nothing will ever be the same as that rainy night; nothing will come close to the horror of being left alone in the world, unexpectedly and completely, but I had her, and she left me. The other shoe dropped, the way it always does in the end. Mia might be in my house, sleeping in the next room—but she’s not mine. Never was, never will be.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say as he lays out more bacon. “Don’t want you to starve,” he says. “You haven’t eaten anything since the oatmeal, have you?”
The stars and my own future, not the man sitting across from me. Pretty soon, he’s going to be playing baseball for a living, and he deserves a partner who is willing for that to be the most important thing in both their lives.
“Mia, what the hell did I do?” I freeze with my beer halfway to my lips. “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean. Did I upset you? Did I hurt you? What did I do, to make you decide you wanted nothing to do with me?” “You didn’t do anything.”
“You cared about me. About us. Tell me what changed.” Nothing changed. I just tore myself away before the inevitable crash.
Kissing her while my hands wound through her soft, dark hair until we were both breathless. I miss her. My heart thuds, keening, wishing I could hold her close enough to feel her heartbeat right alongside mine. I miss her body, and I miss having the privilege of touching her and tasting her, but I miss her—her snark, her intelligence, her fire—most of all.
Nestled in the crook of one of the branches is Tangy. She stares at us unblinkingly, seemingly annoyed by our presence when she’s the one who spent the night in a tree.
She looked so goddamn beautiful just now. I could stare at her for ages, take in every angle, every detail, and never get bored.
This is a different sort of staring contest. I don’t even dare reach up to brush her hair back, for fear she’ll run away and use this moment as another excuse to strengthen the barrier between us. I can feel my body reacting to the comfortable weight of her on top of me.
She just presses her hand over my mouth. “Yes, I’m on my way. My, um, tire was flat. I had to change it.” I lick her hand. She digs her knees into my sides.
She’s so gorgeous my breath catches. I’m always out of breath around her, and this is no different.
As I expected, a pair of black suede boots, identical to the ones I had to throw away, lay nestled in the tissue paper. I check the size automatically. Eight. They’re going to fit perfectly. I put the lid back on and turn to the note. Hey, di Angelo— You can’t be a warrior without the proper armor. —S P.S. The ticket for Wednesday night’s game is under “Princess Leia.” P.P.S. We are friends.
Really, Sebastian? I’m a size 9 His answer comes back swiftly. No, you’re not And you’re welcome
If not, I’ll save her a plate in the fridge, but I want to see her. To talk to her. To remind her that even if she doesn’t want to be with me, we have a connection. I’d rather be her friend than have nothing at all.
I’d rather a scowl from her than a smile from anyone else.
I’ve never been one for dessert before dinner, but now there’s only one thing I’m craving. What a friendly fucking thought to have. It’s torture, especially with my cock stirring, but I turn back to the stove. I somehow manage to finish cooking the meal without peering over my shoulder constantly. Her typing is a signal that she’s working, and I don’t want to distract her.
She shuts her laptop and pushes it to the middle of the table. When she takes a bite, she promptly moans. I hide my grin behind a sip of wine, but her reaction makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. Nothing beats the moment someone tastes my cooking. It’s even better than hitting a home run.
“Just eat, di Angelo. Did you even have lunch?” “I had a protein bar.” “Not a meal.” “It’s something.” “It’s not real food.”
I remember. I remember because I asked her this question while my mouth was on her tits, and she gasped out the word. Exoplanets. But I pretend I don’t, because I know it will lead to more conversation, and if there’s anything I want from this meal, it’s to spend time with her. To hear her talk excitedly as she gestures with her hands, and to see passion in her eyes, if not for me, then for something. She’s someone who has her future figured out. She has the mind and the passion for what she loves to do.
My body isn’t just craving release—it’s wanting it from one person in particular. And he’s in his own bed, with only a thin wall between us.
I inch closer, until I can rest my head against the door. Somehow, knowing he’s on the other side is making me ache even more. Did I wake him? Is his hair all mussed? Is he wearing pajamas? How long has he been there, listening to me? “I . . . I don’t know.” “You sound frustrated. Let me help.” I nearly snap that I am frustrated, but manage to rein it in. “That’s not a good idea.” “It’s past midnight.” His voice is even softer than before. “Let me in, Mia.”
He takes my hand, squeezes it, and then presses a rough kiss to my palm. “Please,” he says. I can’t speak. I don’t want to ruin it by saying something sharp and uncalled for. This is a bad idea—but I’ve always liked bad ideas. This is reckless—but I’ve never liked being reckless more than when I’m with him. I nod.
A distant part of me wonders if tomorrow I’ll regret this, but right now? This is everything I’ve wanted, every moment of every day, since I walked out on him.
He catches my hand before it can get any farther. “Not yet.” I huff. “What?” “Making you feel good was a favor,” he says. “If you want to touch me, I need something from you first.”
Her lips are so pouty, I’d love to just take her up on her offer to suck me off, but I knocked on her door knowing it would be the last time I danced around us being friends, and I can’t back down now. If I hadn’t heard my name, I would have ignored it. Tried my best to put it out of my mind and never speak of it to her. But I did hear my name, and the realization that she was thinking about me nearly brought me to my knees right there in the hallway.
She doesn’t hate me. She still wants me. I didn’t quite know, until I overheard her, how afraid I was that I ruined everything forever. I messed up whatever chance we had at more, but right now, if she admits we’re friends, I’ll suck up my deeper feelings and be with her however she wants. Friends with benefits with her beats a real relationship with anyone else.
Mia di Angelo might not want to be my girlfriend, but for these moments? It’s a price I’m willing to pay.
I’ll be her friend plus a little extra forever, if that’s all I’m offered, and if there’s a sliver of a chance down the line for more, I’ll be there for that too.
“So delicate,” I murmur, cupping the back of her head. Just as I expected, her satisfied smirk becomes a scowl. “Fuck off.”
How did I live without this? Without her?
I decide to push my luck and drag her into a kiss. She sighs against my mouth. Curses again. I wait one beat, then two. I taste myself on her lips. She pulls away—and flops on my bed. “Mia?” She tugs the blanket over herself. “Come here, dumbass.”
Cuddling. Cuddling with Sebastian Miller-Callahan.
I’m not especially small, but this position makes me feel tiny. It’s heaven. It’s hell.
I don’t want that. I don’t want him to be a stranger.
Better he learns to hate me now, rather than after I’ve given him my heart. Any future with him would end like my brother and his wife. My grandparents. My parents. We’d stay together, making each other miserable.
“You need to eat.” I dart for the door. “I’ll just grab one of those protein bars.” “Not a meal,” he says, raising his voice so I still hear him in the hallway.
