“That was five years ago, Ryan. You own a cabin and never said anything?”
He touches his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “I guess we both have our secrets.”
Stop looking at his tongue. “I’m keeping mine.”
“We’ll see.”
Ryan pushes out of the car before I have a chance to respond and I’m more than a little thrown off as I climb out after him. What happened to my steady, soft-spoken, trusty best friend? This man is Ryan 2.0. He’s irritable, capable, owns random cabins and has muscular forearms. What gives?
I need to stop being so curious about this change in him. So…fascinated. My mother is back in Philadelphia in need of her medication. She runs out in a couple of days. On top of that, she needs groceries and cigarettes. I really shouldn’t want to go exploring—the cabin and the man. What do I know about exploring men, anyway? I touch no one and no one touches me.
That’s how I like it.
Right?
“Let’s get inside. We’ll need to burn these clothes.”
“What?”
Ryan takes out his own set of keys and shoves one into the lock, reaching a hand in through the opening to flip on a light before stepping inside. I glance back at the rental car and have a brief and unrealistic fantasy about hot-wiring it, since Ryan has confiscated my keys, but my curiosity gets the better of me and I follow him inside.
When I step over the threshold, I get my next surprise of the day.
There are deflated balloons, unlit candles and dead flowers…everywhere.
I toe the first dead balloon inside the door, revealing the words Happy Valentine’s Day.
The jealousy lands on me like hot asphalt. I can barely get oxygen into my lungs, it’s so heavy, weighing down my chest cavity. I’ve never experienced the emotion before and it’s awful. It’s sickening. And I’m definitely not supposed to feel this way over my best friend. “D-did…did you bring a girl here on Valentine’s Day last year?”
He turns to me with an eyebrow raised. “What?”
I fan my face vigorously. “I don’t feel good, Ryan. I think I’m going to pass out.”
He’s across the room in three strides, scooping me up in his arms. And I desperately need the support, but I’m angry at him now for some reason? So I push at his shoulders and give him my meanest frown. “Is this what you meant by having secrets?” I whisper shakily. “You have a sex cabin where you romance girls and…and—”
“It’s decorated for you, Jessie. Goddammit,” he rasps. “This is years’ worth of shit.”
My jealousy runs into a brick wall, not unlike my best friend’s chest. Seriously. What is happening underneath his clothes? “This is for me?” I ask, dumbfounded. “But I hate Valentine’s Day.”
“Believe me, I know. That’s why I keep letting it rot.” A beat passes, then he mutters, “I just can’t let the day pass without doing something special for you, Jessie, even if you aren’t aware of it.”
The pulse pumping in my ears is almost deafening. “Ryan…what are you saying?”
He sighs. “This is not how I wanted to do this.”
“Do it anyway.”
“I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen,” he says in a firm, resonant tone, closing his eyes. “And I’m not talking love between children or something light and fluffy. I’m talking about knowing you’ve got forty-nine freckles on your nose. Knowing you secretly watch Lifetime when I’m at work, hate parties, sand in your shoes and the words paper cut make you shiver. But you love cannoli, peach ice cream, Arrested Development memes and fancy office supplies. You only have one bra that you actually like and I can tell when you’re not wearing it, because you’re grumpy, but still so fucking cute. You use my razors to shave your legs. You get halfway through self-help books and stop reading, hide them in your closet. You steal my socks in the winter and return them smelling like sugar. I love all of that. I love all of you.”
I’m like a feather being pitched up, down and sideways in the wind.
I hear his words, I hear him telling me things about myself I’ve never even taken the time to acknowledge and I have no doubt, zero doubt, that Ryan does love me. My God, the way he’s looking at me with his ocean blue eyes is glorious and honest. For a good ten seconds, I ache to throw my arms around his neck and beg him to be with me forever. To take that risk. To tell him all the things I know about him that no one else does.
But my fight-or-flight instinct creeps up, preparing to kick in. I’m vulnerable, like a control panel of exposed nerves. “I…I…”
“It’s okay.” He sets me down on my feet and kisses my forehead. “You just let that sink in for now, Jessie. There’s no rush, because I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod dumbly.
“In the meantime, we’re going to burn these clothes to be safe.”
And then Ryan strips off his shirt to reveal the physique of a god.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whisper.
Ryan
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jessie whispers.
Just like I knew she would, she starts to back away from me so quickly, she almost trips over an ottoman.
“Jessie…”
“You’ve just looked like that this whole time?” She’s behind the couch now, using it like a shield. “But how? But why?”
“How? I train before and after work in the precinct gym.” I let her see it, my obsession. Let it bleed into my expression, to see how she reacts. Or if I have a chance at salvaging my unplanned confession. “And why? I’m your protector, Jessie. I’m prepared for anything at all times. I have the resources through work and this body as a weapon. It’s all for you. Every hour of my day. Every fucking inch of me.”
“Oh my God.”
Rein it in. You’re going to scare her. “I know it’s a lot to take in at once.”
“You’ve been pretending to be a-a messy nerdy guy on purpose?”
I laugh. “Messy is a little harsh, but okay. Yes, I have.”
“Why?”
“Says the girl hiding behind the couch right now.” I shake my head. “I’m the same man, I just look different than you expected.” Unable to help myself from getting closer to her, I move to join her on the other side of the couch, approaching her with caution. “The question is: do you like it?”
Jessie’s eyes track down the front of my body, over my pecs, abdomen. My dick, where it remains trapped inside my sweatpants. It’s only started to stiffen and her cheeks are turning a rosy shade of pink. “It doesn’t matter if I like it. We’re best friends.” She licks her lips and backs herself into a wall. “Friends don’t…”
“Don’t what?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“I’m not going to say it out loud.” Jessie is trembling when I reach her, but not from fear and not from the cold. I confirm by pushing the coat off her shoulders and finding her nipples in tight, little peaks against the front of her red flannel shirt.