I can’t move, not with the feel of Rowan’s lips on mine. They are firm yet soft. And when I feel his tongue stroke along the seam of my lips that’s when I take a step back, breaking the kiss. Truth is I want that kiss, have wanted it for so long it’s become this blur. But this feels weird, almost wrong, as if it’s forced. I don’t want that, don’t want things to get weird, although I have a very strong feeling they’ve just gone into that territory.

My heart is racing, my palms sweating. I know I probably look shocked as hell as I stare at him, my eyes feeling as wide as saucers. I have no clue where the kiss came from, but before I knew what was going on Rowan had his mouth on mine, having me spiraling down some rabbit hole that I would never climb back out of.

On instinct I lift my arm and touch my fingers to my mouth, feeling my hand shake, unable to break my stare from Rowan.

“Shit,” he says in a gruff voice. He lifts his hand and rubs the back of his neck, looking away from me. Everything gets weird. The air becomes thicker, heated, and seemingly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about that. I—I don’t know what the hell got into me.”

I open and close my mouth, not sure what to say. I probably look like a fish out of water right now. And then I hear Maggie, one of the other horse trainers, walk out with a mare. She’s totally oblivious to what just happened; in fact, she’s not even paying attention to us. Thank God for small miracles. I sure as hell don’t know how to process this, and I don’t want witnesses on how awkward this really is.

She doesn’t pay any attention to us as she walks by, ties the mare’s reins to the post beside the truck, and turns to head back inside the barn. But before she leaves us in the scorching sunlight she stops and looks over her shoulder at us, her brows lowering. “Everything okay?”

I rub my hands furiously on my scrubs and nod, giving her the fakest smile I can muster. “Yeah,” I say and feel beads of perspiration dotting my forehead. “We’re cool as cucumbers.” I close my eyes instantly and curse myself for the fucking ridiculous thing I just said. I glance at Rowan, who is clearly suppressing a laugh.

“Cool as cucumbers?” he mouths.

I look back at Maggie. She shrugs and heads inside and I finally exhale the breath I’ve been holding. I rub a hand over my now-damp forehead, pieces of my hair sticking to my skin.

I look at Rowan again. He’s now got a stoic expression on his face, the weight of the situation we were in before Maggie broke it coming back full force. Gone is the look of embarrassment on his face, and in its place is this total detachment. It’s the look I’ve seen on his face countless times with other people when he’s not comfortable with something. I’ve never seen him give me that expression. It’s a look I sure as hell never want directed at me, the person who’s supposed to be his best friend.

There’s no doubt I probably humiliated him by not accepting his advances, but he took me by so much surprise that I didn’t know what to do but pull back. I know that Rowan isn’t used to getting turned down, and the truth is I haven’t seen him with a woman in a long time, a really long time if I’m being honest. But I can’t lie and say that doesn’t please me.

All during high school he was the “Big Man on Campus,” the guy all the girls wanted. I honestly don’t even know how we stayed friends, or why he wanted to hang out with me. I was the nerdy bookworm girl, the Plain Jane. I’d heard plenty of rumors from the popular girls while growing up that the only reason Rowan hung out with me was because he saw me as a charity case, that he felt bad for me.

Deep down, I always felt they said those things because they wanted to come between what Rowan and I had. They didn’t know the kind of friendship we had, how he was my best friend, the one person I could talk to anything about. Of course I’m close with Lila, have been for just as long as Rowan, but there was always this chemistry I felt between Rowan and me, even if it was one way.

I’ve loved Rowan for as long as I can remember.

But we have always been in the friend zone, never crossing that line. Hell, he never even acted like he liked me that way. And I always kept my emotions hidden from him, maybe even from myself the majority of the time. But it was hard as hell watching him date women, knowing that they got to feel his hands on them, his mouth on theirs.

And maybe if I was brave enough I could have told him long ago how I felt, could’ve seen where it all went.

But the fear of losing him, that our friendship would be over because I crossed borders that I shouldn’t have, always kept me in check, always kept that fear at the forefront.

I lift my hand and place my fingers on my lips again. They tingle, a reminder of his kiss. My heart is still racing, my palms still sweaty.

I’ve been waiting for a kiss from Rowan my whole life.

“What was that?” I finally ask, finding my voice. He doesn’t speak for long seconds, just stares at me, maybe trying to process what the hell happened, like I am. But I can tell his big body is tense.

I’ve always compared Rowan to other men. It’s inevitable, what with his broad shoulders and muscular physique, his tall height and witty charm. He is intelligent, but has a smart mouth. The latter is what got him in trouble more times than not while we were growing up, what gave him the bad boy reputation.

I think that’s what I love most about him, that his personality is so different than mine, that he can make me laugh without even trying.

“It was me kissing you,” he says in a tense, slightly sarcastic voice.

I’ve wounded his ego.

I feel my face getting hot. No doubt it’s red. Things are awkward now, and this is why I’ve always kept my emotions and feelings to myself.

“I’ve got work to do,” he suddenly says and turns to leave. I find myself taking a step toward him, but he’s striding away, his steps fast, his pace angry. I know he’s humiliated, and although I don’t know what prompted him to kiss me, I want things to be the way they were. I want us to be the way we were.

What I don’t want is to screw up what we have and cross lines. I don’t want our friendship to be ruined because of passion. And even though I’m in love with Rowan, I don’t know if he will ever feel the same for me.

Because if I can’t have Rowan as mine, only mine, then I’ll settle for being his best friend. I won’t be happy if he’s not in my life.