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I nod, but I’m not sure. “We are, but we still need to talk about it.”
His face turns gravely serious. He rakes his hands through his hair. This is new territory for him. He’s used to handling difficult situations with a few jokes. “What’s there to talk about? We made a mistake. We’re still friends. It’s all good.”
I scoff. “It’s not all good. How do we know it was a mistake?”
He looks at me like I’m a foolish child. “I know.”
Seriously? How does he know? I’m not even positive. “What makes you so sure?”
He lets out a heavy sigh as he walks over to me. I look up at him anxiously. He places both hands on my shoulders and scowls down at me. “Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that would have happened if we were sober?”
I instantly dart my eyes to the floor. My fingers find the hem of my T-shirt. I start rolling the fabric between my shaking fingers. I know it wouldn’t have. “No,” I say, frowning.
“I didn’t think so.” He crosses the room and sits on the bed. He looks over at me. I hate how conflicted he looks. “Forget about it, okay? I don’t want this to affect our friendship.”
How do I tell him it already has? I get up from the chair. His eyes stay on me as I go to him. I drop to my knees in front of him. His body goes erect. I put my hands on his thighs and look up at him. “Is that what you want…to be friends?”
He shakes his head slowly. “No.”
It comes out in a whisper, but it screams in my ears. I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure I’m breathing. Regret strangles me. I want him in my life. I can’t lose his friendship. I’ve pushed him into wanting nothing more to do with me.
I feel like I’m going to explode. I try to keep my voice calm as I ask, “What do you want from me?”
He sighs and leans down. His warm breath slides across my face. “I want you to choose me.”
Oh, my God. This can’t be happening. I love him, but it will never work. My throat closes up. There’s not enough air. My neck is on fire. I’m going to burn up and turn to ash. The knots in my stomach pull tighter and tighter. I look at him. He’s waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what to say. I gaze at him, utterly confused. Looking at him hurts too much. I sit back on my heels and stare at the squares in the carpet. My hands tangle in my lap. Finally, I take a deep breath in and say, “I can’t.”
His hand cups the bottom of my chin and tips my head back. He smiles. It’s warmer than I expect. “I know.”
He keeps his hand under my chin. I reach up and wrap my fingers around his wrists. I move his hand to my cheek and lean into his warm palm. He yanks his hand away. It slips into his hair. He starts to say something, but stops.
“Tug…I’m so confused. I don’t want to lose you. I need your friendship.”
He nods and looks at me. “You got it.” His smiles all wrong. It’s not real. He’s forcing it. “What now?”
I stand and sit next to him on the bed. “I have no idea. Do you think we should tell Brady?”
He groans. The muscles in his jaw tighten as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Do you want to tell Brady?”
Do I? My heartbeat accelerates thinking about it. This will devastate Brady. Even though he slept with Annabelle, it’s not the same as Tug and me. There’s too much history between us. “I don’t know.”
His hand strokes my knee gently. “I’ll do whatever you want, sweet girl.”
If Brady finds out, his relationship with Tug will never be the same. They’ve been through so much. I can’t come between them again. “Then I say we don’t tell him. He’s moved on anyway.”
Tug looks surprised. He’s not at the house that often. Maybe he doesn’t know. “His music takes up a lot of his time, but I don’t think it compensates for losing you.”
I make a crazy sound in my throat. “No, but Annabelle obviously does.”
His eyes widen. “What are you talking about?”
I can tell by his expression that he doesn’t know. I don’t want to fill him in on all the details. “Oh, come on, Tug. Have you seen the photos of the two of them together?”
He looks irritated with me. “So she tags along with him. She’s there for Andrew.” When he pulls me close, I lay my head on his shoulder. “You should know better than to assume anything based on paparazzi photos.”
“I saw them together.” I let it out slowly. He doesn’t respond, so I continue. “That’s why I left. I walked in on them.”
Tug shifts his weight to face me. I stare at my lap. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but Brady isn’t with Annabelle. He hasn’t been with anyone.”
