I glance at Roman, who came to support me, but usually it’s the other way around. It’s our secret. I guard his and he mine.
Like clockwork, he says, “I thought she loved me, would wait for me. I bet she’s married and popped out some entitled brats with someone better than me.”
“Her loss, man.”
He shakes his head with such force as if he wants to propel her out of his mind. “No, Ian. It’s still mine.”
I am surrounded by men in love who hurt worse than not being in love at all.
“That’s why Lilly and I are just friends.”
He snorts, eyeing me with knowing eyes. “Just friends, sure. Stop lying to yourself.”
“We’re friends,” I grit out.
He nudges his elbow into my side. “Yes, friends who’d like the other to make the first move.”
“Fuck you.”
But he’s right. It’s like we wait for the other to do something. Neither will, because our circumstances won’t change miraculously. God knows I need her in my life. I can’t afford to jeopardize that. Best example, Levi. And Levi has always pined for my sister. Waited for her, loved her from afar. And what does the idiot do? Flees because he thinks he’s not good enough anymore. I have no fucking clue how a relationship that isn’t toxic even works.
Parting with a side hug, I get in my car, feeling so fucking lost.
Inside my loft, Lilly waits for me.
She plants her palms on her waist, eyeing me intently before she breathes out, her features softening.
“Good, you’re all right.”
“I’m sorry.” For worrying her and for being a damn wreck.
She gives me a strained nod. “Apology accepted. But I want you to think about how you would have felt in my position.”
I would have probably raided every damn bar in the city, searching for her.
Her soft feet pad along the floor, her floral scent invading my nostrils. “What happened?” she asks, reaching me. Slipping her hand in mine, she gives it a light squeeze.
I tell her about Levi leaving, my sister’s breakdown, and my talk with both of them as we drop onto the sofa. Talking to her is easy, the words just flow. I can be just me when I’m with her, and honesty pours out, baring all my vulnerabilities.
“That explains it. Ian?” She searches my gaze and our eyes lock.
“It has nothing to do with you. People are complicated. Their struggles have nothing to do with wanting to hurt or abandon you.”
I doubt I ever told her about my greatest fear, but she senses it.
“I’m here. You’re not getting rid of me.”
My heart grows fuller, only to deflate when she says, “What are friends for?”
I swallow the groan back. “Right.”
“Now, go to bed.” She stands up. “We’ll talk tomorrow. My father will lose it if you don’t perform.”
I hate Coach Parker so fucking much. He’s keeping me away from her.
“Good night, Ian,” she says softly and leaves me to simmer in my need.
“You’re cruel, leaving me teetering on the edge. I am fucking starved for more of you,” I say as she closes the door.
