“Holy shit, is that what you two have been doing all day, boning it out?”
I shake my head. “No, we were at Disney. Like I told you.”
“Oh, babe. My timing is so shit. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. Come on. I need a drink, because clearly I have some catching up to do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Lo
It’s nearing three a.m., and I’m so damn tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I’ve had way too much to drink, and well, yeah ... smoke. I’d been avoiding him all night—because a party is no place to tell your best friend that you fucked up and should have kept being in love with him to yourself—but as Gabe flops down on the sofa beside me, I’m relieved he’s still here and not upstairs in his room with some tattooed-up bimbo.
It’s clear from the whiskey on his breath that he’s also had too much to drink. All of our friends have cleared out, and his shop looks like a bomb hit it, but aside from being strung out anxiety girl all evening, it was a great party. I put my feet up on the outdoor coffee table and Gabe rests his hand on my knee. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
He throws out his arm in a lazy hand gesture encompassing the courtyard. “For this. For the best birthday ever.”
“Naw, it was nothing. Seriously, when you decided Disney was how we were spending your birthday, Clementine was the one who got left with all of the work. You should be thanking her.”
“Where is she?” he slurs.
“Home. I guess.”
“Mhmm.” His fingertips trace my skin, featherlight and absentmindedly. “Listen, about before ...”
“We don’t need to talk about it,” I mumble, sinking lower onto the couch because his hands on my thigh feel good and I’d like his hands tracing a different part of my body. My nipplesbead and my breaths become shallow as his hands trail a little higher, as if he’s not even aware he’s making me completely crazy.
“I think we should discuss it,” Gabe says, laughing a little as the words smear together as they leave his mouth. “You know I love you, Lo.”
I giggle, because I smoked far too much pot to be having this conversation right now. “I love you too, man.”
“Lo,” Gabe says, grabbing my wrist to capture my attention. “You’re my best friend.”
“I know. And you’re mine.”
“I’ll always love you.”
I sense a but.Oh, how I hate that but.
I love you, but we should just be friends. I love you but not enough to fuck you. I love you, but I don’t want to ruin what we have. I love you, but you’re not enough.
So I do what I always do when Gabe drives the knife right through me without even realizing it. I make a joke out of it. “Oh my god, same!”
Gabe screws up his face and shakes his head so vigorously his hair falls out of its loose tie. “No. you’re not hearing me.”
“Are you hot?” I sit up and pull my jacket off, unceremoniously dumping it on the ground at our feet.
Gabe catches my wrist again, forcing me to look up at that perfect face. The gods carved this man out of stone and gave him every ounce of ammunition to make me weak in the knees. “Lo, look at me.” He threads his hand with mine, his warmth making my stomach dip and even though I just took my jacket off, all I want is to curl into his chest and breathe him in.
But I don’t do that.Friends don’t do that. “I’m looking, Gabe. I see you. I know what you’re saying, and—”
“I’m in love with you, Lo.”