I gape at her, because she can’t possibly be serious.
“Tate . . .” I say, at a loss for words, begging and pleading with my eyes for her to laugh and poke me in the ribs and tell me this is one colossal fucking joke.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she just sighs and looks at me, her eyes more purple than blue as they plead for understanding.
“What about me?” I ask, sounding as pathetic as I feel.
She reaches out and clasps my hand in her smaller one, bringing it to her chest where I can feel the soft thud of her heart. “You’re my best friend in the whole world, Lambert. Nothing will change that, which is why I need you to understand. I need your blessing, because I can’t lose you or do this without your support.”
“Lose me?” I choke out, sounding like a fucking parrot.
She nods. “Right now, I’m on the top of the world. I have my bestie, and now I have love, too. It’s everything I ever wanted.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I mutter.
“Say you’re happy for me.”
I’m fucking numb, that’s what I am.
I grunt; it’s the best I can do under the circumstances, and she cocks her head, staring at me in earnest. “It’s not as if we won’t still be friends. And we’ll only be sixty miles and a phone call apart.”
“Tell that to Edgar.”
“Ethan.” She sighs.
“Whatever,” I grumble as I glance away from her, trying to process everything she’s just told me.
“Come on, Brandon.” She squeezes my hand, lowering it to her lap and brushing her breasts with my knuckles in the process.
My heart fucking jumps.
“This was bound to happen eventually,” she adds.
I say nothing, throat bobbing as I stare straight ahead, trying not to think of how perfect her hand feels in mine. The smooth texture of her skin, the weight of her palm and slender curl of her fingers around mine are all I can think of. And I wonder how a touch can both heal me and wound me at the same time.
“What? You transferring to Michigan State?” I spit out.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” she says, her tone trite. “Neither of us has ever gotten serious about anyone, but you knew eventually one of us would, and then things would . . . shift.”
Did I? Did I fucking know? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.
The truth is, I never really thought about it—never really thought about either of us ending up with anyone else. In my mind, we’d eternally be best friends. Brandon and Tatum forever. A team. Unbreakable. She’s always been my endgame, even if it’s taken me this long to admit it to myself. So, the news that she’d always planned on things changing between us feels a lot like being blindsided.
“Say something,” Tatum urges, a crease forming between her brows.
“Are you sure about this?” What I really want to ask is if she’s sure about him.
She squeezes my hand in reassurance. “The truth is, I’ve wanted a serious boyfriend for so long.”
I release her hand to rub at the pinching sensation behind my bones. How could I not have known? How did I not see this sooner?
“You have?”
She nods. “I’ve been watching all your friends pair up. My roommate is never around anymore because she’s always with her boyfriend. My other suitemates are in pretty serious relationships now, too. It just feels like I’m witnessing everyone around me fall in love, and . . .” She gives a little shrug, her expression turning sheepish. “I want that. I want someone to hold hands with. To cuddle with at the movies. To tell all my secrets to, both big and small. I want someone to gush about my day to, someone to lean on when I’m down. And most of all, I want a man to look at me like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world. Like he can’t fathom even a single day without me.”
I do that—I do those things. That’sme, damn it! I’m your man, and I’m sitting right fucking here!
