“Well, if there’s anything you need from me, just let me know.”
“Thank you,” I say. God, I wish I could kiss her. I wish I could curl her into me, lift her chin, and taste her lips one more time. I wish I could show her the affection that pulses through me whenever I see her, rather than holding back and opting only for a hug. I wish I could walk out to the bus, holding her hand, and give her a kiss goodbye like I see the other wives and girlfriends do. But I don’t have that privilege. I’ll never have that privilege, and one day I’ll see Penny in another man’s arms as a result.Fuck.“I’ll text you.”
“Sounds good.” She takes a step back. “Safe flight, Eli.”
Because I can’t seem to get this girl out of my head, I close the space between us one more time, and I hug her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“See ya, Penny.”
I release her, and when I turn around, my stomach nearly drops to the floor as I spot Pacey, standing outside the locker room, staring back at us.
Fuck.
* * *
“It’s not what you think,”I say when I get on the bus and take a seat next to Pacey in the very back. “Nothing is going on between us. I swear, dude.”
He keeps his gaze straight ahead, staring at the seat in front of him. “You care for her.”
It’s not a question. It’s more of a statement. And from the stillness of his body and the direct way he’s making sure not to make eye contact with me, I honestly can’t tell if he’s angry or not.
So I tread carefully.
“I do. I care about her a lot. She’s the mother of my child, Pacey. I don’t take that lightly.”
There’s no response. Just staring.
Sweat forms on the back of my neck, and I attempt to figure out how to navigate this.
“Pacey, she was just giving me—”
He turns toward me. “Do you like her?”
Yes.
A lot.
I like her more than I should.
“It’s, uh . . . it’s complicated,” I answer.
“How is that complicated? It’s either a yes or a no.”
“It’s complicated because you’re her brother and my best friend, that’s why.”
“If I were out of the picture, what would your answer be?”
“But you’re not. You’re right here, completely in the picture.”
His nostrils flare. “Stop avoiding the fucking question and answer it.”
I turn away, watching the other guys climb onto the bus, clearly avoiding the back of the bus where tensions are high.
I bite down on my lip and then say, “If you weren’t in the picture, yeah, I’d allow myself to like her, but I told myself I wouldn’t go there. I don’t want to lose our friendship.”
“Does she like you?”
I grip the gummy bear package that’s in my hands as I think about the other night, hell, the last week. The way she’d touch me, smile . . . cuddle in close. How she’d tease me with her outfits, flirt with me in her texts, and smile at me when we watchedOzarktogether. Our late-night conversations, our confessions . . . how close we’ve become. She’s the first person I think about texting when I have news, and she’s the only person I want to hear right before I go to bed.
