Page 40 of Ablaze

I’d made up my mind the day I said yes to dating Warren that the pining needed to stop. I’m not going backward now.

My best friend made it woefully clear that he’d never cross that line with me, and no matter how many times I’ve felt the confliction of his words–the contradiction in his eyes and his touch–I can only take him at his word.

He won’t risk our friendship, and I can’t risk another crack to my heart. Once was enough.

“I won’t risk what we have . . . I can’t risk you or this friendship; it means too much to me. You mean too much to me . . . Anyone else can come and go, but this is forever. Do you understand that?”

For the longest time after that excruciatingly embarrassing moment in the history of our friendship, I told myself that yes, I did understand. I understood where he came from. In fact, I made myself believe that he was right and our friendship wasn’t worth risking.

But as time passed, I realized that while I’d almost deceived my brain into agreeing with him, I couldn’t pull the wool over my heart. Because no matter how much I tried, it refused to accept that this wasn’t worth the risk. That we weren’t worth the risk. No matter how hard I tried, it refused to label him the good Samaritan my brain was more willing to see. Instead, it thrashed inside my chest, calling him a coward.

Months later, when that resentment and melancholy lifted–all while I put on a brave face in front of him, pretending his well-intentioned words hadn’t slashed me, and covered up my heartbreak with natural smiles–I finally picked myself up.

I’d been through worse, hadn’t I?

I could move forward from this, too.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jessie’s voice has my head lifting up again. I’d almost forgotten she hadn’t left. She takes my eye contact as an affirmation to continue, but her stance is less confident than before. “I get the feeling you and Dean are two peas in a pod. Betty mentioned somethin’ about how you always bake him a separate box of treats.” She tilts her head and my heart stutters, hoping she doesn’t finish her thought. “Have y’all, you know . . . dated in the past?”

A moment later, I shake my head.

Her head tilts the other way, as if my response was the most confounding thing she’d heard all day. “Seriously? I mean, y’all have this intense connection–”

“Friendship,” I clarify abruptly. “Dean and I have a deep friendship.”

She nods, chewing on her bottom lip. “So, you wouldn’t mind then, if I try to catch his eye?”

That thrashing heart of mine tries to climb up my throat, but as usual, I put on my best smile. It looks like my day was indeed destined to get worse.

“No. Not at all.”

* * *

I grasp the back of his T-shirt in both fists and press my face to his chest, inhaling his sandalwood scent for a moment longer, before he pulls away from me.

The three of us–Dean, Warren and I–are standing next to our cars in the parking lot of Darian’s sports school waiting for Jessie. She needed to run back to the ladies’ room since she left her phone there.

She came here with Warren and me this morning since she was having car trouble, but I didn’t miss how she casually asked Dean for a ride back home a few minutes ago.

The girl is a smooth operator, weaving in her natural giggles and soft touches on Dean’s bicep–even outright tapping his abs at one point–at every opportunity. And though I could tell he was slightly uncomfortable, he didn’t stop her, either.

His ocean blues meet my earthy browns before he tugs on a lock of wet hair lying on my shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, sprinkles. This was fun.”

I’m just about to respond when Warren’s palms land on my shoulders, pulling me back into his chest. He squeezes my shoulders harder than I was expecting, and I wince.

Unfortunately, Warren doesn’t seem to notice. “Thanks for inviting us, Dean. I haven’t kayaked in years, but that was a fun time.”

Dean’s gaze locks on Warren’s hands on my shoulders before they slide to my face, assessing my reaction. I know he caught my slight discomfort, so I quickly adjust my expression and offer him a placating smile.

We’ve had a surprisingly fun afternoon, and though Dean wasn’t his loud and chipper self around Warren, he wasn’t outright rude to him, either. The last thing I want is for my best friend to go all overprotective caveman at nothing more than a territorial and insecure display by Warren.

My smile seems to have done the trick because a moment later, he tilts his chin up to Warren. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thank Darian again for me, will you?” I say to Dean as Warren entangles our fingers together, urging me toward his car with a tad more force than necessary.

Dean studies us with a blank face, but I don’t miss the tick in his jaw.

I’m just about to get inside Warren’s car when Jessie appears, carrying her phone. “Thanks for waitin’, y’all. I’m so glad I remembered where I’d put this thing.” She lifts her phone for everyone to see before shortening the distance between me and her. “Thanks again for letting me crash y’all’s fun today, Mala.”

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