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“Aww, that sounds just like you and Kiera,” Sydney said, bumping her shoulder against Paige’s as she popped the last fried pickle into her mouth.

Paige’s lips slipped into a sweet smile, and I couldn’t help but think it was the prettiest she’d looked all night.

“My other bestie,” she explained, her voice soft. “We met at a work conference, and instantly hit it off. There’s no one like her in the world.”

“I’d be jealous if she didn’t live in Philly.” Sydney pretended to scowl before glancing down at her watch. “Oh shit. Hate to be a party pooper, but Sean and I need to head out.”

“We do?” he asked, looking at the half-full beer sitting in front of him.

“Yup,” she said, sliding out of her seat. “We have that thing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What thing?”

Paige laughed. “The sex thing, Sean. God.”

“Oh fuck. Right.” He pushed his seat back, the legs scraping loudly over the tile floor, then pulled his wallet from his pocket and dropped three crisp hundred-dollar bills down on the table. “Later.”

I watched them go, Nielson wrapping his arm around Sydney’s waist, his head bent down to her ear. Whatever he said made her swat at his ass as they left the building.

I turned back to Paige. “Umm.”

She stared at me for a long moment, running the pad of her index finger over the rim of her glass. “Can I be blunt?”

“Can I stop you?”

She shook her head. “No. Probably not.”

I gestured for her to say whatever it was she thought she needed to get off her chest. “By all means.”

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I’m in love with Kiera.”

That was … not what I was expecting her to say—which must have showed on my face because she smirked before continuing.

“And I really get the impression it’s the same for you and your roommate.”

The floor seemed to fall out from under me. I shook my head, hard. “No. God no. It’s not like that—at all. We’re best friends. He’s the best person I know. I mean, I love him. Of course I do. He’s my best friend. Like I said.”

I realized I was babbling and snapped my mouth shut, but not before a low “fuck” slipped out.

She covered my hand with hers. “Michael.”

I felt my head move back and forth again, slowly this time. “I’m not in love with him. I can’t be.”

She smiled, though I couldn’t help but think her eyes looked sad. “Is he the first person you think about when you wake up in the morning?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted, my voice dropping low.

“And the last person you think about before you fall asleep at night?”

I huffed out a tiny laugh. “Sometimes.”

Always.

How had I missed it?

Cally’s name popping up on my phone, and me grinning at it like an idiot before I’d even read the text. Him asleep on the plane next to me, his face soft and peaceful, and me taking a picture since it was such a rare sight. Turning down a thing at Bogart’s place because Cally wanted to stay in and play video games instead, and not once feeling like I was missing out. Standing outside a club in Savannah, freezing my ass off, choosing to walk back to a hotel I couldn’t remember the name of instead of staying out with my teammates. Pulling his mouth to mine just before I came because it felt like if I didn’t get to kiss him, it wouldn’t be as good. Because nothing was as good as Cally’s kisses.

Fuck.