We should stay friends.
I kick the rear tire, hating that phrase with every fiber of my being. It’s like winning the lottery and throwing the golden ticket away. But as my granny used to say, “Medicine never tastes great going down, but you’ll appreciate it later.”
Just friends, I think again and again, forcing my brain and heart to get on board.
I just have to figure out how to tell Tristen. I hazard a glance at him through the kitchen window, the proficient way he moves around and focuses on his task. For years he’s protected me. Now it’s time for me to protect myself.
With a sigh, I knock off the excessive gunk from my boots and head inside to face the music.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Tristen says, flipping a grilled cheese onto a plate.
“Actually... I was hoping we could talk first.”
His lips pinch, and he flicks off the burner.
Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I speak before I can change my mind. “I think we should be friends. No more kissing, hugging, hand-holding. Just friends.”
He crosses his arms. “Any reason why?”
His calm and collected response bristles something inside me. Maybe he doesn’t care like I thought he did.
“This thing between us is new. The longer we are together, the more painful it will be when it doesn’t work out. It’s better this way—we can save our friendship.”
Glancing away, he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Yeah. I’m going to need a better excuse.”
I blink at him. “Excuse?”
“You’re giving up and for once, I’m not going to let you. I can sense you’re scared. I can see your hands trembling.” He grabs my hands tight in his. “Just because you can’t see mine shaking doesn’t mean I’m not scared too. This is something new for both of us. Don’t give up because it’s difficult. We’re a team, remember?”
Shaking my head, I pull my hands from his. “No. This is for the best. Didn’t you hear what I said before? I ruin everything.”
“I promise you don’t. It’s your anxiety telling you lies.”
“Tristen, I know myself and my limitations,” I growl.
“And I’ve known you almost my entire life. From fourth grade to now, I think I understand you too. That kiss we had earlier?My gracious, Reese. I’ve never felt anything like that before. Something more than physical attraction. That connection you talked about on the bus? I understand it because it ripples through me. I want more than friendship—I want what we had this morning. Waking up next to you, holding you as the sunlight pours into the window, laughing until our eyes water, kissing?—”
“I don’t like you, okay?” I shout over him, my voice cracking from the strain. My chest heaves as I wait in the chilling silence.
“Excuse me.” He gently places the spatula on the counter and walks out.
When the door clicks shut, I sink to the floor and let the tears run down my face. This was my plan and what I decided. I hate it. The way my heart aches and the sadness that presses into me summoning those dark thoughts.
No, no, no.
God, why do I always screw things up?
I whisper my mantra, waiting for the urge to drink to lessen. But it’s always there, ready to whisper in my ear whenever I show even an ounce of weakness. I’m exhausted trying to stay one step ahead of it. Denying myself joy, denying myself love just so I can make it another day.
But this time, I’m gutted.
Why did I lie? Why did I say I didn’t like him, when I feel more for him than for anyone else I know? All the cat eyesaround the room mock me like they already know what I’ve done.
I’ve made the worst mistake in my life.
Worse than dating Burns.
Worse than cutting Des out of my life.
