2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Astrid

“I’m home! I’m home! Sorry I’m late.” Scrambling through the front door, I drop my purse right in the entry way and rush toward the kitchen.

“Calm down. Everything is fine.” My mother brushes her hair over her shoulder as she takes dinner out of the oven. “I was running behind on dinner anyway.”

Sighing, I take a moment to catch my breath and then pour myself a glass of water from the fridge, draining it quickly. “I lost track of time and then started panicking when I saw the clock.”

“You had a good day then?”

“I did,” I say, just as my mother turns to me. “I think I’ve narrowed down the menu.”

“Well, that’s amazing, Astrid.” She turns off the oven and reaches for plates from the cupboard. “I hope you kept the lemon raspberry cupcake on there. You know that’s my favorite.”

Smiling, I move to gather utensils and set the table. “I did. I knew you’d disown me if I didn’t, and I kind of need your help with my children still. ”

She chuckles. “Good to know that I have the ability to sway your menu selections. I’ll keep that in mind for later.” Then she calls over her shoulder, “Bentley! Lilly! Mom’s home!”

Lilly comes barreling down the hallway, slamming into my legs. “Mommy!”

“Hi, sweet girl.” I kiss the top of her head. “How was your day?”

“Ugh. Addison told me my dress was ugly, so I told her that her hair was stupid.”

Rolling my eyes, I reply, “You shouldn’t say that to her.”

“Why? She started it.”

“Yes, but you saying something back to her like that only makes you as mean as she is.”

“Addison deserves it. She’s a spoiled, rotten brat.” Bentley enters the room with much less enthusiasm than his little sister. And even though I don’t condone my kids calling other kids names, it’s nice to know that he stands up for his sister when it counts.

“Hey, bud.” I pull him forward and kiss the top of his head as well, but he moves away from me as quickly as he can. “How was your day?”

“It was fine.”

Yup. That’s all I get. If eleven is any indication of what the teen years are going to be like, I hope God helps us all.

“Did Grandma make enchiladas?” Bentley asks, peering over the counter at the pan on the stove.

“I sure did.”

“Heck yes!”

“I hate enchiladas!” Lilly whines right on schedule. It wouldn’t be dinnertime without one kid liking what is being served, and the other one hating it .

“I made you a quesadilla, Lilly Bear,” my mother croons, feeding into her demands. “But you know the rule. You must try at least one bite of what I made.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Lilly. That’s enough,” I scold, moving toward the table with plates full of food. “You’ll try a bite and that is that.”

I swear, I don’t know what I would do without my mother, especially during these past four years. Before Brandon died, I was basically running a household by myself anyway, but when I had to start working two jobs just so we could survive, she helped fill in where she could. As a recently retired nurse, she says she’s happy to spend the time with the kids and keep herself busy, but sometimes I wonder if I ask too much of her.

Still, when I told her I wanted to buy the bakery, she was the first person who encouraged me to do it.

“You deserve this, Astrid. As a mother, it’s important to have something just for you, something that feeds your soul separate from your children. They grow up to be their own human beings, and you need to have a life to live that’s outside of them when they do. I wish I could have done more of that when you and Grady were younger, but you have the chance now, so you’d better take it.”

“Fine,” Lilly relents as we all sit down and begin eating.

“You need to make sure that you eat a good dinner because Uncle Penn will be here soon for game night, and you know he always brings candy.”

That makes her eyes light up again. “Yay!”

“Aw, man. I was going to play my video game again after dinner,” Bentley whines.

“Well, your game can wait. ”

My mother eyes me across the table. “Do you know what game you’ll be playing tonight?” she asks me.

“Uno!” Lilly shouts. “Can we please play Uno?”

“Ugh, that game is for babies.” Bentley drops his fork to his plate in protest.

“It is not! It’s fun!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Please stop, you two. I just got home and the last thing I want to do is listen to the two of you fight.”

“I swear, they save it for you,” my mother says, grinning in her chair as she holds her glass of water in front of her.

“Of course they do.”

On the nights when I come home late from work, my mother picks up the kids from school and cooks dinner for us. She always eats with us before heading back to her quiet house. My father left when I was little, so it was just her, me, and Grady, my older brother, growing up. She’s dated here and there, but no man ever really stuck. I think she had a hard time letting another man in after my dad left her all alone with two small children.

But selfishly, I’m glad I have her to relate to all the tribulations of being a single mom because she knows what it’s like firsthand.

The doorbell rings, and Lilly bolts from her chair and runs to the door, swinging it open. “Uncle Penn!” She lunges for him as soon as he crosses the threshold.

“Hey, Lilly Bear.” He scoops her up in his arms, lifting her as if she weighs nothing. With the way his muscles bulge under the sleeves of his shirt, I can see why it’s so easy for him.

Ugh. Stop looking at his muscles, Astrid .

“You ready to play a game?”

“Can we play Uno? Please? ”

He bops her on the nose before setting her back down. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Yay!” She runs back to the table and stands right next to Bentley, leaning into his space. “We’re gonna play Uno, Bentley. Ha, ha!”

“Lilly!” I admonish. “Don’t start trouble. Now go get in the shower first before we play the game. You know the rules.”

She races to the bathroom, granting me a moment to gather my sanity again before I stand and greet Penn. “Hey, there.”

One of his hands is holding a bag filled with something, but he shoves his free hand in his jeans. “Hey.”

God, he’s so tall. Seriously, it never fails to amaze me just how big of a man he is—and strong, dependable, stoic, but not afraid to speak up when it counts.

Jesus, you’re doing it again, Astrid. Stop ogling him in front of your mother, for crying out loud.

My mom chooses that moment to clear her throat. “Hi, Penn. Good to see you.”

“Hey, Melissa. Did you make enchiladas?” Penn sniffs the air dramatically.

My mother chuckles. “I sure did, and there are plenty left over. Help yourself.”

“Awesome. I didn’t eat yet.”

“You know there’s always a spot reserved for you here,” I say because it’s the truth. If there’s one other person on this planet that helps keep my world spinning besides my mom, it’s this man right here.

He’s the rock I never had, and the one I can’t afford to lose.

“Today was crazy, and I didn’t want to be late getting over here.” My mother fixes him a hefty plate as he takes a seat at the table. “Thanks. ”

“Bentley, go get ready to get in the shower after your sister,” I say, glancing at the clock. Our game night won’t be a long one tonight since it’s already after seven.

“Fine.” He clears his plate and then scurries down the hall.

“Well, I’m gonna get out of your hair,” my mother declares as Penn scarfs down his food and I start cleaning up the kitchen.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Once I get a solid schedule down at the bakery, I probably will only need my mom early in the mornings. Owning a bakery means rising before the sun most days so the baked goods are ready by six as people stop by on their way to work.

“Yup.” She kisses me on the cheek. “Have a good night, sweetie. And you too, Penn.”

Penn waves at her until he finishes chewing. “Thanks for dinner, Melissa.”

She winks at him. “My pleasure.”

After the door shuts behind her, I sigh as I make my way back over to the kitchen, turning the faucet on to wash the sink full of dishes. When my mother cooks, I clean. It’s the least I can do.

“So, busy day?”

Penn nods as he shovels his last bite in his mouth. “Extremely. I had to help Dallas at the restaurant during the lunch rush, and then I headed out to a project I just started working on.”

“What kind of project?” I ask, eyeing him over my shoulder.

He shrugs, avoiding my eyes. “It’s nothing. Just something to pay the bills.”

As I place the last clean dish in the rack on the counter, I say, “Well, I’ve got another project we need to discuss, too.”

Penn grins. “I’m ready.” He wipes the corner of his mouth, brings his plate to the sink, and takes the sponge from my hands, cleaning his own dish before placing it into the rack with the others .

God, he washes his own dishes. Why is that so freaking hot?

Once he’s done, he brushes past me, our arms touching as he walks by, and takes a notepad from the bag that he brought with him, along with a pen. “Oh, but before I forget.” He takes out a brand-new bag of Hershey Kisses, heads over to the glass vase on the small table by the front door, rips open the plastic, and pours in the candy until the vase is full once more.

“Penn…you don’t have to keep doing that,” I say, watching him as he empties the contents, careful not to spill them all over the floor.

“Yes, I do, Astrid.”

“Bentley already knows that you fill it up. Lilly will realize soon too, you know…”

He lifts his head and his eyes meet mine. “Well, until she does, I’m going to keep that smile on her face for as long as I can.”

If I didn’t already have feelings for this man, that would have sealed it right there.

I know what you’re thinking.

“ Your husband is dead, and you’re lusting after his best friend? That’s some daytime soap opera shit right there.”

But in my defense, these feelings weren’t always there. In fact, I never felt like this about Penn until after my husband died, and almost a year later at that.

And did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I stopped it from going anywhere, and with good reason.

But sometimes I wonder what would have happened that night if I hadn’t stopped it.

The truth is that back then, my head was a mess. It had only been a year since I lost my husband, I was a single mom, and I was still trying to find our new normal.

And it’s Penn .

He’s…my friend . Has been since we were kids.

But that was three years ago, and even though I hoped those glimmers of feelings would go away, they never did. Actually, they’ve only amplified over time. And lately, I feel like this thin thread between us is only one tug away from snapping.

But when he does things like this? Fill up the “Kisses from Daddy” vase that I started during Brandon’s first deployment after Bentley was born—it makes it harder to argue with both my body and my heart.

“Now.” Penn walks back over to the table, grabs his pen and notepad, and takes the same seat as before. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

“I want something fresh and clean. White and pink. I know the place is called the Sunshine Bakery, but I’m over all the yellow. A little is okay, but it needs to be dialed down for sure.”

He scribbles notes. “Okay. Do you want to change the name too, then?”

I nod. “Yes, but I haven’t landed on the winner yet.”

“Let me know when you do, and we’ll get a sign made for you too. As for the floors, we could bring in gray and white checkered floors for contrast, but I can work with pink and white. Chrome details on the case then?”

I ponder his suggestion. “I think so. The case is so old, so it needs to be brought up to modern times.”

“I agree. What about the back of the house? The kitchen?”

“Greg and Jenny just replaced a few of the pieces of equipment, so I should be good there. But the storage area could use a makeover, something more organized. Maybe some more shelves?”

He nods, scratching down more notes. “Got it.”

“How long do you think it will take? ”

“A couple of weeks, but I can replace the floor and things like that at night so you don’t have to close the front doors the entire time. I was thinking about that today actually.”

“You’re willing to work at night?” I say, surprised by the suggestion.

“Yeah, it’d be easier since I wouldn’t have to worry about moving around you or any of the other employees.” My staff consists of me and three other employees, so it’s not like there’s a soccer team to dance around.

“But when will you sleep?” I tease him.

“Sleep is overrated. Besides, I don’t mind missing some shuteye for something like this.”

I reach over and place my hand on top of his, the heat of our skin touching traveling all the way up my arm. “You’re the best, Penn. You know that, right?”

His eyes drop to my hand. “So I’ve been told.”

“Mommy!” Lilly exclaims as she enters the room. I retract my hand from Penn’s as if we’d just been caught doing something we shouldn’t—which is preposterous—and then twist to find my beautiful daughter with soaking wet hair, dressed in her pajamas.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Can I have kisses from Daddy now before we play our game?”

I nod, swallowing down the lump in my throat that forms each time she asks for the chocolate so innocently. I hate that her memories of Brandon are so few. I think she loves the idea of him more than the actual time she can remember spending with him. He was gone on deployment almost half of her life up until he died.

“I love chocolate,” she mumbles around the first piece as she climbs into her chair, resting on her knees so she can reach the table.

Penn replies, “Just like your mom. In fact, I brought a special chocolate to share with her tonight. ”

“Really?” I say, arching my brow at Penn.

He returns the gesture. “Yup.” Reaching into his bag, he takes out two Ferrero Rocher, the individually wrapped ones, and hands me one like he’s making a drug deal. And in a way, he might as well be. Penn knows these are my favorite decadent treat.

“Oh, you know me so well.” I take the chocolate from him, unwrap it, and pop it into my mouth.

Staring intently at me with eye contact that is borderline unnerving, he says, “I do, Astrid.”

Our eyes remain locked on one another, until Lilly breaks the moment. “I wanna play Uno!”

Snapping myself out of the electrically charged eye contact, I turn to her and smile. “Okay. Let’s play, baby.” I call over my shoulder, “Bentley! Get out here!”

Once we’re all settled, the blood bath begins. Call me unorthodox, but I take pride in the fact that both of my children are turning out to be highly competitive. We’re still working on graciously losing, but for the most part, their competitive nature is alive and well. They’re learning to be strategic, think ahead, and problem solve. It’s one of the best side effects of our game nights.

The ultimate repercussion though is the time we spend together, and the time that Penn gives us.

After Lilly calls Uno, Penn slaps her with a reverse card. “Aw, man!”

Penn chuckles as the order moves backward around the table. “Should have seen that coming, Lilly Bear.”

Bentley laughs and changes the color, which works out perfectly for me as I lay down another reverse card, skipping Lilly for a second time.

“That’s not fair, Mommy!”

Laughing, I say, “Life isn’t fair, baby girl. Better you learn that now.”

Penn and I successfully reverse the order two more times as Lilly grows beet red with frustration, then he slaps her with a draw four and you’d think the world was ending.

“Hey.” I place my hand on her arm, signaling her to breathe. “It’s just a game.”

“But I want to win!” Her bottom lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears.

“Sometimes you have to play a few rounds before you can win, Lilly Bear,” Penn says as he lays down his card, eyeing me across the table, his words feeling like they have a double meaning.

Lilly huffs and rearranges her cards in her tiny hands.

“I bet she still wins,” Bentley grumbles as the game continues, and in less than five minutes, Lilly is crowned the winner.

“I won! I won!” She fist pumps the air as she does laps around the living room, making Penn and me laugh and Bentley roll his eyes, a reluctant smile on his face.

“Yes, you won. Now, it’s time to get ready for bed.” I glance at the clock on the microwave.

“Aw, man,” Lilly grumbles as she and Bentley head toward the bathroom to brush their teeth.

“That one is going to be a force to be reckoned with,” Penn says, standing from his chair and stretching his arms above his head, giving me a glimpse of the sliver of skin between his shirt and the top of his jeans. That little happy trail I’ve seen a time or two always makes my thighs clench together.

God, it’s been too long since I’ve had sex .

“You don’t have to remind me.”

“She’s gonna be strong and fiery, just like her mother.” He glances at me over his shoulder as he begins cleaning up the cards .

“Ha. I don’t know about that. She’s got more moxie in that little body than I’ll ever have.”

Penn drops the cards on the table, turns, and closes the distance between us so fast I nearly fall over as he grips my chin, lifting my face so our eyes can connect. I can hear my heart in my ears and suddenly breathing feels like a monumental task. “You have no idea how strong you are, Astrid. That little girl couldn’t ask for a better example of a mom. You’ve turned a shitty hand of cards into something incredible—without any reverse cards in the pile.” He gives me a reassuring grin as his eyes bounce back and forth between mine, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “Don’t doubt your strength for a second. You hear me?” All I can manage is a nod. “Good. Now, I’m beat, and I have a bakery to tear apart tomorrow.” The corner of his mouth lifts as he releases my chin and steps away, robbing me of his warmth and the confidence he instills in me with his words.

I’ve never felt that from a man. My father left when I was so little, I don’t even remember him. And with Brandon, the only man I’ve ever been with, I felt so alone, blending into the background, a trophy for him to have on his arm, not a partner he was proud of.

Penn makes me feel like I’m front and center stage.

It’s unnerving and relentless, and it makes me want things I know I can’t have.

“You want to start tomorrow?” I ask, pulling my thoughts back to our conversation.

“If that’s okay, yeah. The sooner the better. I can work there during the day until I do the floors and that leaves me the afternoon to work on my other projects.”

“How are you gonna manage this all? The restaurant, the hardware store, the bakery, and your top-secret project.” He grins. “Seriously, you’re never this cryptic. Why won’t you tell me what you’re working on?”

His smile fades and then he moves back to the table, gathering his things and shoving them into the bag. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I said it’s nothing, Astrid. Okay?” His words are clipped and final.

His tone honestly takes me aback for a moment, but I nod and say softly, “Okay. I’m—I’m sorry.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just…I just don’t want to talk about it yet, okay? I’ll tell you when it’s the right time. I promise.”

I nod again. “Okay.”

“Uncle Penn, will you tuck me in?” Lilly calls from her bed, offering a reprieve from the tension building between us in the dining room.

Penn draws in a deep breath and calls back, “Yeah, Lilly Bear. Be right there.” His eyes meet mine once more. “Duty calls.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know, but it’s what Brandon would have done. And since he can’t, it’s the least I can do.”

As I watch him walk down the hall, my heart twists in my chest again. If only Penn knew how little Brandon really helped around here. He merely kissed the kids good night from his seat on the couch most nights while I made sure they had their favorite blankets, their nightlights were plugged in, and their sound machines were turned on. I’m the one that assured them there were no monsters under their beds or in their closets. And I’m the one that got all of the “I love you’s” right before they drifted off to sleep.

Penn might think he’s doing what Brandon would have done.

But the truth is, he’s always done more.

And that’s something I don’t ever want him to know .

That’s why I never crossed that line, and why I pushed him away when I could have taken what we both wanted—because the man Penn has been in our lives is more than we’ve ever had, and the last thing I want is for the three of us to lose him forever too.

***

Three Years Ago

“I can’t believe it’s been a year,” Penn slurs, reaching for the bottle of tequila again, pouring two shots and handing me one.

“You’ve already said that.”

“But it’s true. One fucking year, Astrid. One year that my best friend hasn’t been on this earth.” His eyes are bloodshot as he stares at me. “I still can’t fucking believe it.”

I think this is our fifth shot, but honestly, I haven’t been keeping track.

Tears well in my eyes again as I toss the shot of alcohol back and wince as it goes down. “One year of my kids not having their dad.”

I think that’s the part that cuts the deepest—all the things they’ll miss out on because he’s not here.

Of course I’m sad. I lost my husband. But the truth is, I lost him long before he ever left this world.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to come home. We were supposed to go through with the divorce and co-parent. He still would have been here for soccer games and dance recitals. He still would have seen them on Christmas and their birthdays.

Selfishly, I was looking forward to the time for myself, the ability to focus on my dreams and aspirations without him mocking me about it and me having to listen to him. I had planned trips I wanted to take by myself, work I would have time to do on my thoughts, and just finally having space to breathe.

Our relationship may have been over, but his relationship with his kids was still supposed to survive. In fact, I was hoping it would get stronger since his limited time with them would be even more precious.

But we never got the chance to make that work.

“I’ll be there for them, Astrid. I promise.” Penn grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. It may just be the tequila, but his touch and the softness of his lips warm my entire body from head to toe, the strongest heat pooling between my legs.

That’s been happening more lately—each time we touch, each time he hugs me or holds me while I cry—my body has the most visceral reaction to it.

The night that he came over and cooked us dinner and forced me to take an hour-long bath after I’d had a horrible week was the night I started to see him differently—and I think it was because he showed up for me and took care of me in a way that no one else ever had.

“I know you will,” I whisper.

“And I’ll be there for you too.” He kisses my hand again, and then places another one on my wrist. “Whatever you need.”

My body instinctively starts to lean forward. “You already have been.” He shakes his head, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arm around me now. I feel safe, protected, and dare I say…treasured. “I wouldn’t have survived the last year without you, Penn.”

“Yes, you would have because you’re incredible, Astrid. Strong, resilient, and brave. But I’m glad I could be here for you and the kids. It makes me feel like I’m at least doing something when honestly, I just feel fucking helpless. I can’t take away your pain. I can’t bring him back…”

Breathing him in, I clutch his flannel and bury my face in his neck. He smells of sandalwood and pine, with a hint of sweat that only enhances his natural scent. He smells like a man, and my body is aching for more.

But it’s Penn. I can’t go there. It’s wrong—so very wrong.

But god, I bet it would feel so right.

It’s just the alcohol talking, Astrid. Tequila makes people want to take their clothes off, remember? There’s even a song that says so.

I lift my head so our eyes can meet. “You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for.” Brushing his hair from his face, I swear I hear him take in a sharp breath of air, and then his grip on my waist tightens. “When the roof had that leak, you fixed it the next day. When the air went low on my tires, you took them to the garage to fill them up. On the days when I left Catch & Release utterly exhausted, you brought pizza for dinner and entertained the kids because you knew I just didn’t have the energy to do so.” My eyes dip down to his lips. “You’ve done more for me than anyone ever has.”

I watch his gaze drop to my mouth now just as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I wanted to. I had to. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, or feeling like you have to do this on your own.”

“I’m never alone when you’re here.”

“Astrid,” he whispers, his eyes bouncing between my mouth and my eyes. “Do you ever feel…” He pauses. “Do you ever think about…”

“What?” I breathe out, my heart hammering wildly.

Penn reaches up and strokes the side of my face, a pinch in his brow hinting at the battle he’s fighting in his mind .

I can feel his breath on my lips, smell the tequila on both of us, and feel the effects of it all over my body.

But then I concentrate on the way his finger traces my skin, the flecks of gold in his otherwise brown eyes, and the stubble that dusts his jaw so perfectly.

Penn is rugged but still put together. He’s handsome but doesn’t flaunt it. He’s noble and loyal and so utterly dependable that you’d think he could be a superhero in another life. But he also has an edge to him, a thin line of control that I have a feeling could snap under the right pressure.

“Feel what?” I practically moan as his head dips closer to mine.

“This.” He takes my hand and places it over his heart where I feel the organ in his chest thrash against his sternum. “Does yours do this too when we’re around each other?”

I pause for a moment, debating how honest I should be with him. But the alcohol decides for me. “Yes.”

Time stands still as we stare at one another, and then before I can say a word, Penn mutters, “Fuck it,” and his lips crash into mine.

An inferno rages through my body the second our lips touch. I push myself into his chest and straddle his hips, burying my hands in his hair. Penn frames my jaw in his hands and tilts my head to the side, swiping his tongue across my lips to make me open up for him. And as soon as our tongues tangle, I let out an embarrassing moan.

My hips start moving, rolling over his lap slowly, finding him hard beneath me. So very hard .

God, I want him inside of me.

I miss sex.

I’m tired of my hand and feeling so alone.

“Jesus, Astrid,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing me deeply again, over and over, stealing the breath from my lungs .

But then reality slams into me.

His voice brings me back to the reality of what it is we’re doing.

I’m kissing Penn—my dead husband’s best friend.

Oh my God. What am I doing?

“Shit,” I curse, launching myself from Penn’s lap and the couch, creating as much space between us as possible as I hold my fingers to my lips, where I can still feel his mouth on mine.

Penn’s eyes are wild and wide, staring up at me. “Astrid…”

“This was a mistake. I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I made the first move. I just…” He moves to stand, but I put my hand up to stop him.

“No. Don’t. I—I don’t know what we were thinking.”

“Well…” he starts, but I cut him off again.

“No. This can’t happen, Penn.”

A flicker of irritation crosses his face. “Okay…”

“This was a mistake,” I repeat.

“No, it wasn’t.” He stands now and makes his way over to me. I’m holding my breath, warring with myself over wanting to push him away or pull him close again and pick up where we left off.

But then I hiccup loudly, and my eyes dart to the bottle of tequila on the coffee table. “We’re drunk. That’s all this is.”

Blame it on the alcohol. Yes. There’s a reason Jamie Foxx coined that phrase and put it with music.

“I’m not that drunk, Astrid.” He stands right in front of me now so I have to crane my neck back to see his eyes.

“Well, I am. I’m sorry. Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“What if I don’t want to?” he counters, making my breath hitch.

“I’m—I’m not ready, Penn.” It’s not a total lie, but honestly, the reality that I just kissed another man who wasn’t my husband is making me want to puke .

A man who is also his best friend and completely off limits.

“But…”

“No,” I interrupt. “This is wrong. On so many levels.” I turn away and head for the hall closet, pulling out a spare blanket and pillow. I return and toss them on the couch. “You should stay here tonight.”

His brows are drawn together fiercely, and his voice accepts no argument when he says, “Astrid, we need to talk about this.”

I shake my head, trembling all over. The nerves, the reality of what I’ve done, the shame and guilt and longing that’s racing through me—I need to be alone right now before I fall apart. “I can’t, Penn. I’m begging you, just…please pretend this never happened. Tomorrow, everything goes back to normal. I’m just emotional.” I shrug. “It’s the anniversary of Brandon’s death, and you’re here and you’re such a good friend, and I…”

He hangs his head, closing his eyes and breathing harshly through his nose. He stays like that for so long that I almost think he’s fallen asleep, until he finally mutters, “Okay.”

Silence hangs in the air between us as I wrap my arms tighter around my body. “Thank you. I—I’ll see you in the morning.”

Turning his back to me, he arranges the pillow and blanket on the couch and then slides in. “Yeah. See ya.”

Fighting back tears as I stare at the man who has been the strongest constant in my life recently, I cover my mouth to stifle my sobs and then head back to my room, shutting the door before sliding under the blankets and burying my head in my pillow to cry.

And because Penn is the best man on the planet, he honored my request and never mentioned that night again. He acted as if it never happened.

But we both know it did .

Now, three years later, I think it’s safe to say that that night wasn’t just a drunken mistake. It was real. At least, those feelings were real for me. And they’ve only grown since then.

Too bad I can never do anything about them.