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I try to say it’s not right, but I can’t. Because nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life. The memory of him writhing against me pops into my head, his tongue stroking mine, and I squeeze my eyes shut to will it away.

“It’s not...not what friends do,” I finish lamely, unsure what else to say.

He scoffs, getting to his feet. “Says who? What we do together is no one’s business, Matty.”

“Xed, I can’t,” I plead, looking up at where he now stands above me. “We can’t. Not anymore.”

He blinks, taking a step back as if physically hit. “Why?”

Because I don’t want to ruin what we have. Because I’m afraid you’ll see me for who I really am and leave.

“Just, please, Xed. For now. Until all this shit with Valerie is sorted, and I get my head on straight.”

We gaze at each other silently for a long moment, both of us communicating with our eyes, and eventually, he nods slowly, tugging on his sleeves.

“Alright. Okay. I’ll start moving some stuff into the spare bedroom.”

“W-what?” I sit up straight, leaning forward to grab onto his wrist, stopping the sleeve pulling. “We don’t have to quit sleeping next to each other, Ducky, just the...the other stuff.”

He swallows, dropping his gaze with a scowl. “Don’t call me that. And I don’t know if I can do that, Matty. I can’t go backwards.”

Panic rises in my throat, cutting off air, and I wrack my brain for any excuse to keep him in our bed.

Licking my lips, I toss out the only thing I can think of. “You can’t. We might need that room for the… the baby.”

Xed’s face instantly hardens, lips curling over his teeth as he steps out of my touch. “Right. The baby.” He inhales a ragged breath before spinning on his heel to head upstairs. “Just forget it. This isn’t on you, it’s my fault, and…forget it. I’ll be in bed.”

As I watch him disappear, a knot forms in the pit of my stomach at his words.

Fuck, how did everything get so messed up? What is happening to my life right now?

After flipping off all the lights and taking a long shower, I climb into bed, sensing that he’s still awake under the covers. He’s curled away from me, as far on the edge of the mattress as he can get, and the distance he’s put between us might as well be miles wide.

As I settle in, cold and empty, it feels like all of my worries about losing him might have been in vain.

Because I think I’ve lost him, anyway.

Chapter thirteen

The bottle smashes against the base of a random headstone, shards scattering across the dirt as Taylor hurls it with a guttural yell. The sound echoes through the graveyard, but he doesn’t flinch. He just stands there, chest heaving, fists clenched, staring at the cracked glass like it might put itself back together.

“Fuck him,” he spits, his voice trembling with fury. “Fuck. Him.”

I stay quiet, watching as he paces back and forth, kicking at the dirt, his hands twitching at his sides. I’ve never seen him like this—raw, unhinged.

Driving out here to drink with him was a bad idea, especially because he’s on probation, but the guy had found his dad dead with a needle in his arm. Begged me to find him some alcohol.

After everything that’s happened with Matty these past few weeks… I couldn’t say no.

Weeks. It’s been weeks since my best friend and I have even touched. He doesn’t even kiss me anymore.

Between school, work and football practice, we hardly saw each other throughout the day anyway, but he’d still text me. Now my phone remains silent.

And at night, we’d always fall together, either on the couch or in bed, a TV show playing while we held each other to sleep. Now, he stays at practice late, coming home with just enough time to lay down for a few hours before he’s up again. We still end up in each other’s arms in our sleep, but when morning comes, he just… pulls away. Rolls out of bed without a word, showers and leaves me a note not to wait up.

I fucking hate it. I want my best friend back.

“You know what the worst part is?” Taylor stops pacing, turning to me with unfocused eyes. “I don’t even know why I’m here. Why I’m drinking over him. He never gave a shit about me, not one goddamn time, and now I’m supposed to what? Feel something? Mourn him?”