“Friendsgiving” is a tradition that Riley started our freshmen year of college and always took place the first Saturday of December. It began as a way to break up the final stretch of classes and the soul-sucking week of exams before winter break.

Even though I no longer attended school, as Riley’s best friend, I’m always on the guest list. Hell, I helped her organize most of the party. I chose the toppings for the pizza, picked up the beer, selected the party game (Cards Against Humanity, always), and listened to three different playlists before she decided on the perfect one. Riley and I are a team. What I don’t understand is why she invited Dave.

Maybe because he’s her boyfriend, asshole, my mind supplies.

My stomach sours at the thought. I still can’t believe, at nearly twenty-two years old, Riley and I are still playing this cat and mouse game. Christ, we got off together on the phone—and can I just say, holy fuck, was it hot—three weeks ago, but neither of us has yet to mention it. I suspect it will be the same as our other “near hookups.” To be filed away in the “Never to be Discussed” folder.

Hell, I was half-tempted to bring it up, if only to ask if (and when) we could do it again. Because the way she softly moaned as she came? Yeah, that gets me rock-hard just thinking about it.

“Anyone want another slice?” Riley asks, as she tips open the lid of the pizza box on the living room table.

“I’ll take another one.” Dave hands her his plate.

“Me, too,” Liza chimes in.

I look at Shelly—what? I had to bring her; this was a couples’ night if I ever saw one―me and Shelly, Riley and Dave, Liza and Scott—but she shakes her head no. I’m surprised Shelly even ate one slice. When we go out she normally pushes the lettuce around on her plate, claiming after two bites she’s “stuffed.”

“I’m so glad you guys are here.” Riley smiles around a mouthful of cheese. “My first holiday in my new apartment.”

Liza narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I know.” She laughs and tosses a throw pillow at Riley. “Thanks again for abandoning me!”

“I did not.” Riley whips the pillow back at her but misses and hits Shelly in the head.

“Hey!” Shelly whines and knocks the pillow to the floor. I look at Riley and watch as she catches her bottom lip with her teeth in an attempt to not laugh. It was kinda funny.

“Besides,” Riley continues. “I don’t think Scott is complaining, now that you’ve scored yourself a single room.” She waggles her eyebrows. “I bet he’s sleeping over every night.”

“Not every night.” Liza giggles. “Are you, Scottie boy?”

Scott’s eyes widen and he looks at me as though to say “Dude, help!” But what he really says is, “Want another beer?” He pushes himself to stand, and I follow him to the kitchen.

Scott and I have formed somewhat of a friendship over the past three years, mostly based on our shared desire to not get embroiled in the girls’ in-depth discussions on shopping and make-up. Also, I think Scott knows how I feel about Riley. He’s never asked me or said anything specifically, but it’s this vibe I get from him. That, and this weird chin-tip thing he does whenever he sees us together.

“Thanks, man,” I say, as he hands me a bottle. “I can’t wait for that guy to leave.”

“That guy?” He scrunches his nose. “You mean Dave? Riley’s boyfriend?”

I tip the bottle to my lips and swallow, the cold liquid sliding down my throat and burning slightly. I nod. “He has his hands all over her tonight. Did you see the way he grabbed her ass?”

Okay, maybe this is the real reason why Scott knows I have feelings for Riley. Because I can’t seem to stop myself from seething every single time I see her and Dave together. And the worst part is I don’t think Riley even likes him. Yet she keeps him around for God only knows what reason—Jesus, I pray it’s not for sex. Though, based on our phone conversation a few weeks ago, I’m guessing sex with Dave isn’t all that great.

Scott continues, “I think I heard Liza say he’s staying over tonight.”

What the fuck?

“And aren’t you with Shelly?”

I shrug. It’s complicated.

I met Shelly several months ago at Ho-Ho’s, an upscale version of Hooters, for lack of a better comparison. It’s a Christmas-themed bar where all the waitresses dress as sexy Santa elves and work for tips. They’re not nude, but they might as well be.

Shelly’s job doesn’t bother me. I knew what I was getting into. Hell, I met her during one of her shifts. A few guys from work suggested we go out for some beers and we ended up there. I was lonely and horny, and Riley had just got back together with Dave even though he fucked her over… One thing led to another, and three months later, here we are.

Shelly and I aren’t officially “together,” but we hook up now and then, a sort of mutual arrangement. Things are changing, though. I sense that Shelley wants more. More than I’m willing—or want— to give. I have to end it soon.

“She’s hot.” Scott takes a swig of beer as he leans back against the counter. “I could get lost in those tits.”

Here’s how I know I don’t love Shelly, that I have zero feelings for her: because if Scott, or any man for that matter, made a comment about Riley the way he just did Shelly, I’d rip his fucking throat out. My lack of reaction confirms what I already know to be true. Shelly’s temporary. Riley’s my forever.

I grunt my agreement. Shelly flaunts her shit for everyone to see. Scott’s a guy. He notices. That’s the whole point, right?

“What are you two doing in here?” Liza peeks her head around the corner.

Scott whispers conspiratorially, “Girl talk.”

I raise my beer. “Yep.”

“Come on.” She loops an arm through Scott’s, then through mine. “The game’s about to start.”

Scott groans, and I grab the remaining beers from the fridge. “We’re gonna need these.”