Chapter 2
TATUM
My heart throbs as I listen to the door click closed.
I knew Brandon wouldn’t take the news of my transfer well, but I’d hoped he’d at least understand. I love Brandon. He’s been everything to me for years. But I need more. Iwantmore.
All through high school, guys never looked twice at me. For a long time, I assumed it was me?that they just didn’t want me. But since dating Ethan, I’ve gained a new perspective and it has me wondering. Was the real reason no one ever asked me out because they couldn’t understand my friendship with the cornerback? Most people, guys included, assumed we were more than platonic. Were men hesitant to approach me with Brandon constantly at my side? Is it a complete and total coincidence thatthe one summer I spent without him is the one I finally met someone?
I bite my lip as I turn to the sound of my buzzing phone. I’ve finally found someone who sees a future with me as more than their full-time buddy. Can he blame me for wanting that?
I swipe my phone off the coffee table and answer. “Hey,” I breathe out a sigh.
“It took you a while to answer,” Ethan says, his voice clipped.
“Um, yeah. I was seeing Brandon out,” I say, trying to reassure him because I can’t imagine how I’d feel if the tables were turned and his best friend were a girl, and we were an hour apart. “He just left.”
“Did you tell him about transferring?”
“I did.”
“And . . .?”
The question hangs between us as I think about Brandon’s reaction.
I curl my legs beneath me, fingers toying with the frayed edge of my sweatshirt. “He was a little upset, but once he thinks it over, I’m sure he’ll be on board.”
Honestly, the news may have been abrupt, but I’m surprised he cared so much. He has plenty to keep him busy between classes, his friends, and his insane football schedule. Unlike me, who only has class and him to occupy my time. For as long as I can remember, my days?my weeks?have been filledwith Brandon.
“You know you don’t need his approval, right?” Ethan says, breaking through my thoughts.
“I know. It’s just . . . we’ve been friends for so long, and he’s important to me.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” Ethan cuts in, his voice hardening. “Like I’ve said, forever is a long time to be ‘justfriends’ with someone. Especially when that someone is a football player who probably has girls throwing themselves at him.”
I frown, unsure what he’s implying.
“It’s not like that between us,” I say, hoping to ease his fears. Ethan’s been cheated on in the past, so I get why he’d be a little concerned about my unorthodox friendship, and the last thing I want is for him to worry there might be something more going on.
“I hope you’re right,” Ethan says, but I can tell by his tone that he doesn’t believe me. “Because I gotta say, Tatum, when he showed up at your place to help you move back to campus, the way he looked at you . . . well, it looked a whole hell of a lot like he wants more from you than friendship.”
I snort because I might be falling for Ethan, but he’s delusional. “I promise you, you’re wrong. Brandon has dated plenty of girls throughout the years, and never once has he made a move on me.”
And Lord knows he’s had plenty of opportunity. Hell, I’ve been right here, at his side, for years. Surely, if Ethan was right, Brandon would’ve shown some sign. Said something. Done something.
I shake the thought off, chalking Ethan’s concern up to nothing more than fears and insecurities from his past relationship.
“Look, I get it,” I say softly into the phone, settling deeper into the couch cushions. “You’re not here with me, and you’ve been burned before. But you have nothing to worry about. Brandon and I have been through everything together—breakups, fights, family drama, injuries, you name it. If there was going to be something romantic between us, it would’ve happened long ago.”
Ethan sighs over the line, and I hear rustling in the background before he says, “You’re probably right. I’m sorry. Forgive me for being a jealous asshole?”
I can’t help but smile. “You’re forgiven.”
“Man, I miss you. It’s just good to hear your voice.”
“I miss you, too,” I say as my insides swell.
“I know you’re only an hour’s drive away, but I hate that I can’t just stop by whenever I want and see you. I hate not being able to kiss you every single day. Or hold your hand. Or hear your laugh.”
