lips. “A break? Who are we, Ross and Rachel?” My voice sounds hollow as I try to force some levity into the situation, as I do my best not to let him see that I’m seconds away from falling apart.
“Ross and Rachel were dating, we’re not even that,” he points out, not looking in my direction, his hand still on the door like he might flee into the apartment at any second.
“Because we both agreed it would complicate things. We talked about dating five years ago, remember? And we said we didn’t want to risk our friendship.” Now I’m sounding panicked, and maybe later I’ll remember to feel embarrassed about this whole situation. I’m getting dumped by a guy I’m not even dating and I’m not taking it well.
The impulse to grab him and kiss him until he forgets this whole stupid idea grips me, but something tells me that, for once, kissing him stupid won’t fix anything.
“You’re an idiot,” Bishop says, sounding as tired as he looks, finally turning his head so I can see his face. His expression is flat, his eyes lacking their usual spark, and it’s all I can do not to fall at his feet and beg him to change his mind. I do still have some dignity.
“I know,” I agree. I’m not sure what stupid thing I’ve done now, but I’m sure he’s not wrong.
He turns the door handle and steps inside, but before he can close the door on me, I reach my hand out to stop it. “You just mean the sex stuff, right?” I check, a whole new fear rising up inside me as the possibility of never seeing my best friend again surfaces. “We can still hang out? We’re still friends?”
“We’re still friends,” he agrees. “I’ll see you, Hudson.”
“Yes,” I answer reluctantly, using every ounce of self-control I possess not to push my way into his apartment and kiss him until he remembers how good we are together. “See you.”
Leo
A sea of people churns around me, the noise level nearly deafening as I wade through them with a giddy feeling bubbling in my stomach and a smile on my face in spite of the fact that I’ve been up since three in the morning and traveling for the past nine hours. The flight was turbulent, and I nearly missed my connection in Chicago. In other circumstances, I’d be feeling more than a little crabby right now. Especially since I haven’t eaten because there’s no way in hell I was going to pay for overpriced food at the airport. But knowing that my best friend is somewhere inside this same building with me makes all those annoyances fade to background noise.
I hitch my carry-on bag higher on my shoulder as I pick up my pace. I had the rest of my things overnighted to Bishop’s place yesterday, at least the stuff I bothered bringing with me from New York.
I expected to feel a little sad leaving the law firm where I got my start, working in the mail room to work my way through college, all the way through my first internship and eventually a steady job. Maybe I am little sad, but it’s far out shadowed by the prospect of living in the same city as Bishop again for the first time since high school.
None of this was part of the plan, but when the idea of coming home wormed its way into my mind a few months ago, I couldn’t seem to shake it. The plan is in place for a reason; it’s what keeps me certain I’m moving forward to build the life I always envisioned. But when I stopped being able to sleep, lying awake at night thinking about how much I missed my best friend, how much living in New York left me feeling lonelier by the day, I realized it was time to change the plan.
As I near the exit door, he comes into view, standing with one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone in front of his face. I haven’t seen him in person since the night before I left for college. Sure, I’ve seen pictures of him on social media, and we video chat about once a month, but there’s something about laying eyes on him in the flesh for the first time in so long that hits me like a punch in the gut.
He glances up from his phone, and our eyes meet. I can tell the exact second