Gabe grabbed my hand anddragged me out onto the floor, giggling the entire time.
For a few moments, all myproblems melted away. Gabe was laughing and spinning me around, eyes sparklingin the low light of the bar, other bodies surrounding us.
It’d been a long time since I’dfelt this safe. I was among friends here, the bar closed for the evening justto send me off.
“He’s looking at you again,”Gabe teased, twirling me under his arm. I had to duck awkwardly to manage it, asolid five inches taller than he was, but it wasnice.
It was nice to be here, andlaugh, and dance with my best friend.
“It’s hisjob,” I said, but Icould feel Logan’s gaze on me. My cheeks flushed at the thought, stomachflipping as I wondered if he liked what he saw, if it was possible that I hadn’timaginedthe way he waslooking at me.
It was probably wishfulthinking, but sometimes the way Logan looked at me felt like he was reallylooking.Like he was seeing something he liked.
“Is it his job to lick hislips when he looks at your ass?” Gabe asked.
It was impossible to tellhow serious he was being. Even at the best of times it was hard to tell, butwhen he was drunk…
I glanced around, meetingLogan’seyes across the room.
My stomach fluttered as hesmiled at me. How could I get him to dothatmore often?
I grinned back, ignoring theway Gabe was laughing and squeezing my hand. For a single moment, everythingwas okay. I had a stupid crush on a new boy, and Gabe was teasing me over it.
Life was exactly like itshould have been.
“Go over there,” Gabe said. “Layone on him. Shove your tongue down his throat and grope his dick. Hewantsit.”
“No one has ever wantedanyone else to shove their tongue down their throat,” I said.
And Logan didn’t want me tokiss him.Definitelydidn’t want me togrope him.
“He’s doing his job,” I saidfor what felt like the thousandth time. “And he’s still straight.”
Logan was a good guy, but hedidn’tcare aboutme. Not more thanhe was supposed to. He’d been kind, but waitresses were kind to me all thetime.
There was a reason you weren’t supposed to givethem your number while they were working.
“Fine,” Gabe said. “Fine. But don’t be surprisedif your straight boy there decides he’s into a round of tonsil hockey.”
“Tonsil hockey,” I repeated,nose wrinkling. “You know what, I was wrong. I’m not gonna miss you at all.”
Gabe laughed, grabbing myface with both hands and pecking me on the lips. “I’m gonna missyou,” he said, voicesuddenly fierce. “Let me play matchmaker one last time.”
I snorted. “I love you,” Isaid. “But you’re delusional.”
“That’swhyyou love me.” Gabe grinned,dragging me over to one of the plush armchairs off to the side and sitting downon top of me. “I want you to promise me to be happy,” he said.
Could I promise him that? Iwas leaving everything that made me happy behind.
But Gabe needed to hear it.He was taking this just as hard as me. He didn’t want me to go any morethan I wanted to.
“I promise,” I said, willingmy lower lip not to tremble. “I promise I’ll be happy.”
“Good,” Gabe said, thatfierce edge back in his voice. It was hard to tell in the low light, but Ithought maybe there were unshed tears shining in his eyes. “I love you,” he said,holding my gaze the entire time. “You’re my best friend.”
“I’ll always be your bestfriend,” I promised, taking his hand. “Always, Gabe. No matterwhat happens. You can always text me at two in the morning and I’ll alwaysrespond. You can always tell me there’s an emergency and I’ll be there. You canalways complain to me about Troy stacking the dishwasher wrong and I’ll pretendthat I think it matters which way you stack a dishwasher. For you.”
Gabe sighed, wrapping hisarms around my neck and snuggling against my chest.
