Secret Admirer - D.J. Jamison Page 0,1

… freckly, I was hardly a prize. I’d known, at some level, he might have asked me out as a thank-you of sorts. That he might not really be into me. But this was so much worse. He hadn’t planned a gratuitous date; he hadn’t planned any date at all.

I was so, so stupid.

“Benji?”

And now my humiliation was complete.

Ace Collins, my brother’s impossibly perfect best friend, jogged up to me, wide smile on his handsome frat-boy face. His caramel-streaked blond hair, a nice normal color that didn’t make him stick out like a sore thumb, was stylishly ruffled up in the front. His hazel eyes, brown with gold and green flecks, reflected his uncomplicated happiness.

Of all the people to run into at this very moment…

My face heated, and I knew my complexion wouldn’t hide my blush. I ducked my head, staring at our feet. Ace’s shoes were scuffed, the hems of his jeans frayed, but he made it look good. He could make anything look good.

“Going to a movie?”

I shrugged.

“No hoodie today,” he said, a teasing lilt entering his voice as he plucked at the sleeve of my button-down. “Wait, are you dressed for a date?”

I couldn’t take it. I spun, walking fast down the block. He fell into step even as I hustled. Stupid short legs. He had a good five inches on me because I was tiny. I kept waiting for a growth spurt that was never coming.

“Hey, wait, what’s wrong?”

My fist tightened, crumpling the tickets. At this rate they were going to become nothing but a wad of sweat and disintegrating paper. Ace grabbed my hand, uncurling it to reveal my shame. Two movie tickets for a film that started forty minutes ago.

I’d stood there all that time, like an idiot. I should have gone home, not waited and hoped like a dumbass.

Ace withdrew the tickets, reading the details. He glanced back at the theater. He didn’t ask the obvious.

“Let’s hit Ice House,” he said. I glanced up in surprise to see him shoving the tickets into his jeans pocket. “Guy trouble calls for ice cream.”

My throat tightened. I wanted to disappear, but there was no rejecting his offer when I felt this low. Dark chocolate ice cream infused with caramel was imperative. “Okay.”

Ace slung his arm over my shoulders, pulling me against his side as we walked, and I almost lost it then. Crying on his shoulder would feel good. He’d be there, a steady presence, accepting whatever I poured out. Ace had always been good that way. I hadn’t seen him for three long years after he graduated high school with my brother, but when I’d shown up on campus, he’d picked up our old relationship, a weird mix of brotherly and friendly, as if there’d never been an interruption.

If he knew some of the things I used to think about him, he’d run screaming.

“Need me to kick his ass?” he asked.

I snorted. “No.”

“I totally would.”

“It’s okay. It was my fault.”

“Your fault how?”

“I never should have believed he really liked me,” I mumbled. “It was dumb of me.”

“Did he ask you out?” Ace demanded, pulling us to a stop.

“Yeah, but—”

He interrupted me. “Did he know the time and place?”

“Yeah.”

“Then he’s an asshat who didn’t show, and that’s not cool. But it’s his loss. You deserve better.”

I scoffed. “Whatever.”

“You do,” he insisted. “You’ve got a lot to offer.”

Like pale skin and a skinny frame. Yeah, I was hot stuff.

“You’re Jeremy’s friend,” I said dismissively. “You have to say nice things. It doesn’t mean anything. My brother might as well have said it.”

Ace stepped close, his eyes intent on me. “Yeah, well, I’m not your brother. And I think you’re pretty cool. Smart, cute, and a hell of an artist.”

I gave an embarrassed chuckle and rolled my eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“Okay,” I said. “A-plus for effort.”

“Benj—”

“Can we please just get ice cream?” I pleaded, gesturing to the parlor two doors down. “I need chocolate more than I need compliments.”

Ace’s smile sagged a little, causing guilt to niggle at me, but he nodded. “Sure, anything you want. My treat.”

Not anything. What I really wanted was for Ace to mean all of the sweet things he said. But as my brother’s straight friend, he’d never really see me that way. And yet, I could never not see him as the man of my dreams.

Even when I’d settled for a lesser version, it’d gone all wrong. College hadn’t been the magical new life I’d imagined. Turned out, wherever you went, your personality

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