I should have known something like this would happen, I should have expected it, even. He was my best friend, not my fucking experiment.
But something about that moment earlier—both of us with her, touching her, pleasing her—had cracked something open inside of me I hadn’t even known was sealed.
And then he touched me.
Just a graze at first. Fingertips.That was it.
It wasn’t accidental, like mine had been at first. To be honest, mine hadn’t stayed accidental for long.
And it had been hot as hell.
And I’d liked it. God help me, I fucking liked it.
Not in a sexual way—I didn’t think. But in a connection way.
A deep-rooted sense of linking between us as she cried our names.
But he hadn’t said a word since.
Not about her. Not about us. Not about the fact that our friendship had turned into something blurred and raw, and he was looking at me now like he wasn’t sure if I was going to swing on him, or hug him.
Somehow, he managed to continue avoiding me, and I could accept that. I could accept his cold shoulder, as long as he didn’t give Frankie or the kids one.
Which he didn’t. But what they didn’t see was what it was costing him to keep up the act. Which gutted me.
I was chopping bell peppers in the kitchen when he finally passed behind me, grabbing the skillet off the stovetop.
“Need to find the oil,” He muttered.
I nodded, trying to keep it casual. “Cabinet above the microwave.”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t touch me either as he leaned around me to get it. I could tell he was intentionally trying to avoid it too.
And I felt that shit like a vacuum in my chest.
Frankie walked in a second later, barefoot, wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts that hugged her ass like a pair of hands. She looked domesticated, and happy. Almost like she belonged there in the doorway with a soft smile on her face. Like we all did.
“Dinner smells amazing,” she said, pulling her hair up into a messy bun and blocking a grinning Emmie from the doorway as she once again tried to sneak in for a snack. “Toby asked if you two were moving in.” She said when Emmie left, leaning her shoulder on the doorway and crossing her arms and ankle.
She was so at ease, and it calmed something inside my chest.
I laughed, or at least I tried to. “He told me I take up too much space on the couch.”
She chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at her son. “If you keep playing trucks and dinos with him, he might start packing your stuff for you.”
Eli gave a tight smile but didn’t say anything.
I looked at him.
He looked at the food.
The kids were fed,their homework was done, and thanks to Frankie’s smarts and Eli’s diligence, Emmie even managed to complete the next two days’ worth of math problems that were troubling her. They had baths and were upstairs getting ready to go to sleep, with Frankie running command from the landing between their bedrooms.
So, I took my opportunity when it presented itself and followed Eli out onto the back porch. He glanced over at me as Istepped out after him and sighed, annoyed. Handing him a beer I grabbed for us, I hoped he’d at least take it and stick around long enough for me to figure out how to fix what was wrong.
“You mad at me?” I asked, leaning back against the railing.
