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He had been good to me.

At times, I felt I didn't deserve it.

That's the anxiety talking, my therapist would say.

"Can I ask one more thing?" Ryan asked when I finally opened my eyes again, having won the battle with the tears.

What left was there to ask that could bother me?

"Sure."

My eyes even went up to his and I found him watching me intently, like he was looking for even the smallest reaction to the question he was going to ask. "Have you and Bry ever dated?"

"What? No!" I shrieked, the idea so absurd that I actually laugh/snorted at it. It was a real delicate and charming sound let me tell you. "Of course not. He's the closest thing to a brother I have. Why would you ask that?"

His head tilted slightly, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times like he was trying to decide to tell me or not. Eventually, he did. "Because he's in love with you, Dusty."

I was pretty sure an entire cannonball dropped and settled into my belly at that phrase.

In love with me?

Bry?

No, that wasn't...

Except, maybe it was.

If I were being honest with myself, I would admit that there had been times over the years when there were tense moments, heavy silences when he was fighting saying something to me, touching that could maybe have been friendly from a touchy-feely person (which Bry was not), but weren't normal for just a pair of childhood friends. He catalogued even the smallest details about me and somehow brought it up again months or years later. His gifts were always exactly what I liked.

Friendships like that between two women, I could say that was the norm.

But maybe it didn't exactly work that way with men and women.

Maybe his awareness of me had less to do with just friendship and more to do with... something more.

"You had no idea," he observed accurately, giving me a half-smile.

"I should have," I said, shaking my head. "Wow. I really, really should have seen it. I mean, maybe I was just not admitting it because he was all I had left and denying him that way might have ruined it..."

"I think you underestimate him," he surprised me by saying. "He might be in love with you, honey, but he also just plain loves you. I think a part of him knows that you've never returned the feelings and that's why he hasn't acted on them. Maybe he never would have. Maybe he would have always just been there for you in whatever capacity you needed. And I am probably a shit for even telling you about it, but I think it's something you needed to know. And, well, I needed to know about your relationship with him."

"Why?"

His smile was a little teasing at that. "Because this thing here, with you and me, if this goes the way I want it to go... it's happening."

"It's... happening?" I repeated, my belly doing another of those delicious little flutters, but I wanted more clarity. I needed it so I didn't drive myself half or fully crazy over what he meant.

"Yeah. Happening. You're in my place. I like you here. I'd like you to keep being here. I get that it's early and we don't know everything about each other yet, but I figure we will do that eventually. I needed to know you weren't having mixed feelings about him before we move forward."

Forward.

As in a future.

With me?

I didn't think he truly understood what he was saying.

"Ryan, I don't think you..."

"I get it," he cut me off, shaking his head. "I, ah, well I did some research before I made my decision, Dusty. I know what I am getting into here. And I know there is no magic cure and I know it's going to be progress and regression, but I think you are overestimating how much it matters to me. I'm not a social person. I work, I come home. Occasionally, I see my family. I would eventually like you to be able to come to those occasions too, but I'm not saying it needs to be next week or next month. All I am asking for is..."

"Progress," I cut him off.

I could do progress.

I mean, I was out of my apartment. I was in his. And I wasn't freaking out about it. That was progress. I had met his brother and interacted with him and that was progress too.

So long as the steps were small and not expectations that set me up for failure, I was pretty sure I could do that.

"Exactly," he agreed, reaching out and grabbing my knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Think that could work?"

I gave him a small smile, not wanting to get ahead of myself, but feeling hopeful. "I think so," I agreed.

The smile he gave me, yeah, it was so worth deciding to agree to continually step out of my comfort zone.

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