LEXI

I wouldn’t consider it easy to get onto the roof. The route to get there involves some serious contortionist moves, a bit of danger, a wish, and a prayer. Luck is on our side this evening as we summit the building.

The view of the city glitters before us, the river sparkling in the distance. We’re alone, as we always have been up here, and despite the city sounds below us—cars backfiring, traffic whooshing, groups of friends whooping as they leave the bars—there’s a layer between all of that, and us. A silence up here, a peacefulness that makes it feel as if we’re contained in a snow globe.

“Why are we—”

He cuts me off mid-sentence. The kiss comes as a surprise, swallowing my words as his hands reach for my waist, the same spot he’d been holding before and grasping tight.

He guides our bodies together until we collide—my much shorter, softer one against his hard, strong frame. His lips, however, are gentle, hungry, demanding as he pulls a kiss from me. A surge of need follows, and a gasp of surprise.

One of his hands comes up, reaching behind my head, twining his fingers through my hair. He uses the leverage to tip my head back, chin up, and deepen the kiss.

Years, months, days, hours all well up in a rush of adrenaline, and my brain nearly short circuits with the excitement of it. I have daydreamed of this moment for years. Before every dance, every movie we’d gone to as just friends, every inadvertent brush of skin that’d turned into nothing.

My body is humming with pent up energy for this, for Bradley, for whatever he’s offering. I let my eyes close and lean into him. I have no control over this, nor do I desire to control it. What’s between us feels alive, a fire burning too wild to tame.

“Lexi.” He pauses, his forehead pressed to mine. His brown eyes are molten chocolate, and I drink him in with every breath. “I’ve waited almost two damn decades to do that.”

I tip my chin upward, desiring more. “Shut up, and do that again.”

“This changes things,” he says, holding back. “I’ve been friend-zoned this entire time, and I’m not interested in being your friend any longer.”

My core is trembling for him. I can barely understand what he’s saying. “Fine.”

“I want you, Lexi Monroe. As the friend you were before, but as more. I need more.”

“I said fine.”

“I need you...” He hesitates, his eyes brightening as my words sink in. “What?”

“I said fine.” My voice comes out scratchy, hoarse. “Now shut up and kiss me again.”

The sigh emerging from him has been pent up for years. I can feel it, practically touch it. Our lips crash together, hungry and violent as he pulls me toward him. His tongue slips into my mouth, roving and exploring, claiming me not as a friend, but as his. The rules of the game have not only changed, they’ve been thrown off the roof.

Then he lets his fingers slip through my hair, and his hands roam down my sides. They land on my lower back as I arch into him, my pelvis pressing to his. I can feel him against me, teasing me through the thin fabric of my pajamas.

There’s not much stopping us anymore. Which is fabulous, since I want it all. But Kitty and Sasha pop into my head, and I can’t help but think Kitty’s going to win this bet if I have anything to say about it. Over two months. Yeah right. We’re barely making it over two hours.

“What’s so funny?” he growls.

“Sorry, no. It’s not you, it’s just...” I shake my head not realizing my giggle had been aloud. “Forget it.”

“Lexi.”

“Kitty was just saying earlier tonight that she thought we’d end up together. Not end up married or anything, but you know.” I’m embarrassing myself, and it’s only getting worse. “Nevermind, okay? It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“She always thought we should hook up.”

“I have to agree with her.”

I blink. “But you always wanted to be friends.”

“I did?” For a moment, Bradley looks murderous. “You did.”

“I figured you weren’t interested.”

“Uh...what about this says not interested?” He gestures down at himself and in all ways appears very interested. “How could you have ever thought that?”

“But—”

“You’ve wanted...” He gestures between us. “This?”

“Forever,” I breathe.

“Dammit, Lexi.”

My legs wrap around him as his hands squeeze my rear end, lifting me off the ground. We’re connected by the lips, the hips. Everywhere we can touch.

When we climbed up here, he had papers in his hands. I’m not entirely sure where they went. I’m fifty percent sure that he left the pizza downstairs with the girls. All I know is that his hands are exploring and his tongue—his tongue is claiming me.

We stumble back until we crash into the wall at the center of the roof, a few pillars stacked there for the sole purpose of holding us up this evening. Brad raises a hand, presses it to the wall over my head, and cups my bottom with the other hand.

I’m still wrapped around his body, suctioned to him like an overzealous octopus, or maybe a squid. And I don’t plan on letting go.

He whispers my name again, a bright sprinkle against the black sky. I shift, grinding into him, my hands wrapped around his neck, fingers curled into his gorgeous hair.

I’m kissing Bradley Hamilton.

Holy smokes.

The man has been my best friend for years, a professional hockey player, a hunk written about in newspapers. The hunk who never once in over twenty years gave me any sort of sign that he was interested in being more than my brother’s best friend. More than a buddy to me. More, more, more.

This is more, every inch of it. His body is somehow familiar to me. We’ve touched, hugged, cried together. We’ve danced and laughed and played. We’ve experienced everything together. So much, in fact, that I thought we’d been through it all.

I had been wrong.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” he groans, pulling back just far enough to look over my face. “Hold you, touch you, taste you.”

“Why didn’t you give me a hint?”

“It’s not obvious how I feel?”

I can feel his very obvious affection pressing against my stomach at the moment, teasing me there, and I fight back a blush. “I meant before.”

“If you talk about the past, it’s only going to piss me off that we wasted so much time,” he says. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop wasting a second more.”

I nod, struggling to formulate a witty comeback. My brain doesn’t work that way on a good day, let alone one charged with other priorities. Priorities like savoring every taste I can get of Bradley Hamilton, basking under every touch. Absorbing every moment so that someday, in the future, I’ll have these memories to look upon fondly should this not work out.

“What are you thinking?” he murmurs, nuzzling against me. “You went distant on me.”

“How could you tell?”

“I know you better than anyone.”

As soon as he says this, I know it’s true. Deep within me, deep in my core, it resonates. Rings like a bell. I’ve never doubted it, not really. Not even with our time apart.

Sure, my brothers and my parents know me well—they’re family—but I haven’t shared everything with them. Not like I have with Brad.

I inhale, the movement shaky as I offer a controlled nod. This moment might be the most intensely personal of any before. Bradley has his hands on me as we hunker chest to chest against the wall. He’s pressed into me hard, teasing with friction against my silky pajamas.

But it’s not his gaze, it’s not his smoking hot looks that have me off-kilter. It’s not even his rock-solid body or the delicious tease of what’s to come should I let him take me to bed.

It’s none of that. Whatever it is goes deeper, far deeper. A thread that’s been running, twisting, weaving together almost our whole lives and has now suddenly become unraveled. We’d existed in this safe, platonic world that has now burst open with opportunities.

Where safety used to exist, now there’s a crater, a gigantic hole in my heart. I only hope that Bradley will be the one to patch it—and me—back up again.

“I wish...” Bradley’s hand reaches for me, moves to push my hair from my cheek. He stills, however, his fingers holding my chin, tilting my face toward his. “I wish so many things had turned out differently.”

“Like?”

“Us. You and me. If only, if maybe I’d said something sooner.”

“Prom would’ve been a good time.”

“What would it be like now?”

I struggle to breathe correctly. Though I have the same wishes as him, I also have a theory that things happen for a reason. I focus on that as my hand reaches for Bradley’s face, his cheek slipping smoothly against my palm.

“I think we understood each other at just the right time,” I whisper, my words fading to the black behind us. “Who knows? Any sooner, and maybe we would’ve ruined things.”

“So much wasted time.”

“No. None of it was wasted.” I press my lips to his forehead. Light and gentle, a hint possessive. “Without years of getting to know each other, we wouldn’t be here. We weren’t ready before.”

“Are we now?”

I can’t hide a smirk as he grinds against me. Then he does it again, pressing me to him until my head comes back and my smile morphs into a groan of pleasure. His lips, hot and demanding, trickle down to my neck and send shivers striking through my body.

It’s insane. I’m wearing clothes, yet this is the most turned on I’ve ever been in my life. My stomach is quivering, my arms and legs shaking. I’m holding onto him just to stay afloat as he does wondrous things with his hands, his tongue, his flesh against mine.

“Can I take you to my apartment?” His meaning is clear as he adjusts again, shifts me so there’s no misunderstanding his intentions. “I need you, Lexi. Us. So badly.”

“No, not now. I have friends over, and—”

“Here.”

“You have a condom in your pocket?” I raise an eyebrow. “Was this your plan all along?”

“No, but—”

“Bradley. We’ve waited this long, we can wait a little longer. We haven’t even had a date yet.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot.”

“About the date?”

He eases me down. “Where did those papers go?”

I feel void without him pressed against me, which is ridiculous. I’m the one who stopped this whole thing. I’m the one who told him no, when all I wanted was to feel him, all of him, taking all of me. Ravishing me. Whatever people did when they fell madly, passionately in love.

Love?

As Bradley hunts around for his stray papers, I’m caught up in the surprise appearance of the word love. If you’d asked me years ago whether I’d loved him, I’d have said yes—then qualified it shortly after with the phrase like a brother.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth today. I don’t know if this is love tonight, but it’s intense and it’s new, and I can say now with certainty that I’ve never felt anything like it before.

The love of a best friend meshed with the joys of romance. The attraction, the trust, the history—all of it. It’s startling to realize how much I’ve missed Bradley and how much I need him. And I’ve been ignoring all of that for too long.

“I know we’re still in the middle of an argument.” Bradley must have found what he was looking for because he straightens and shuffles the newly found papers against his stomach. “But I came to your door to apologize earlier this evening.”

“You—apologize? Get out of town.”

He doesn’t offer a smile, and that’s the only true sign this isn’t a joking matter. Sure, whatever just happened between us might’ve been incredible, but we still have lingering issues. They’re real and now impossible to ignore.

“I came to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“For?”

He inhales, gives a shake of his head before leaning against the pillar. “For everything.”

“Everything.”

“I’m sorry about how I acted after my accident. I’m sorry for pushing you away, and I’m sorry that I nearly ruined our friendship.”

“Nearly?”

“Nearly,” he repeats with finality. “Because I hope we can recover whatever’s left of it.”

“Of course we can. You never lost it—I was always here for you; I just didn’t think you wanted me anymore. As a friend. Like a friend,” I stutter. “The friendship.”

“I’m most sorry about one thing in particular.”

“What?”

“That you ever had any doubt how I felt—and still feel—about you.” He looks down at the papers he’s gathered in his hands. “Here. You almost saw them earlier when you stormed my apartment, but I was embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?”

“Just look.”

I accept the sheaf of papers and study them, surprised to find my name scrawled across the top in clearly male handwriting. It’s barely legible, but it’s there, shining in black ink above a list of printed out restaurants, reviews, and menus. Multiple sheets of them.

“Are you writing a guidebook to the Twin Cities?” I look up, giving him a crooked smile. “What am I looking at?”

“I’ve always wanted to take you on a date. You thought I forgot this past month, but...” A complicated look crosses his face. “I just can’t find anything that’s good enough for you.”

“Good enough for me? You’re joking. You know me, Bradley...Brad,” I correct, and he smiles at this. “I’m fine with pizza and a five-dollar bottle of wine.”

“That’s how things used to be.”

“No, that’s how things are. I’m still the same person I was before.”

“I’m not.” He states this firmly. A pained look crosses his face, his lips tightening into a thin line. “I’m not the same as I was before.”

I stay quiet because this is the crux of what’s been bothering him. I can feel it. The core to everything that’s gone wrong.

“When my knee went out and they told me that night, in the hospital, that I could never play hockey again, something died. A part of me died.”

“I’m so sorry, Brad.” I reach for him, but he gives the slightest shake of his head.

He’s staring into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. “No, that’s how I felt. Sorry. Angry. Annoyed. Pitied. Those words aren’t strong enough to describe what went through my head in those weeks, but it’s a start.”

I nod, a whisper of a breeze running through his hair, standing it on end. He doesn’t notice.

“I don’t expect you to know what it’s like, but—”

“If someone took away my diner, I would understand,” I interrupt. “It’s what I’ve worked toward my whole life. I’ve put all my money into it, and spent the last few years trying to make it grow. I love it.”

His eyes flick toward me, size me up. “Yes.”

“And if it was taken away, and I was left with no job, no passion project, it would suck.”

“I’ve never been good enough for you, Lexi. Your brother made sure that I knew that, but he didn’t have to make it so clear.” He rubs his jaw, and I can picture my brother’s fist making its way there. “I’d always known you were too good for me even without Lucas’s help.”

“He shouldn’t have interfered—”

“Then, after my hockey career ended...” He raises his hands, offers a wry shrug. “What did I have left to give?”

I’m stunned, gaping like a fish. I can’t do much except stare at him.

“So, I did what any idiotic man would do, and I pushed you away. I’m not proud of it, I’m not saying it’s right, but there you have it. I’m sorry.”

“Wait. Backtrack for a second.” I gesture with my finger. “What did Lucas say to you?”

“Lucas?”

“You said he made sure you knew that you weren’t good enough for me.”

“I once mentioned that I was interested in you. He punched my lights out.”

My mouth opens and shuts a few times. “I’m going to kill him! I will strangle the man in his sleep!”

“This isn’t about him!” Brad reaches for me, holds my arms to my sides. “Don’t blame Lucas. It’s nothing I didn’t already know.”

“Well, then you knew wrong. Because that’s bullshit.”

“No—”

“And my brother has no say on my romantic interests! Wait until I throttle that man. He won’t even know what hit him.”

“Stop! Breathe. Lexi, calm down.”

“No! He ruined what could’ve started between us years ago. How old were you?”

“I don’t know...” He looks beyond me into the distance, a shy smile creeping over his face. “When do boys first start thinking girls are gorgeous?”

I roll my eyes to the sky. “You never asked me out again because some horny thirteen-year-old boy protected his sister from some other horny thirteen-year-old boy?” I throw my hands in the air. “Did you ever consider it might’ve been hormones talking at that age? You’ve had about fifteen years to try again.”

“That’s what I’m saying! At first it was the hormones talking, and frankly, your brother had every right to sock me for even asking. My thoughts were, uh... not about how intelligent and lovely your personality was.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. He looks almost miserable with embarrassment, and I give him credit for not backing down from the conversation.

“Then later, when I got a better handle on the hormones, I realized he’d been right,” Brad continues. “Maybe for the wrong reasons, but the end result was the same.”

“Which end result? Because whatever you thought was the end result clearly isn’t the end. At least, if we’re going by what happened here tonight.”

“You were all those things, Lexi. Beautiful and smart and funny. You were, and still are, the whole package. You’re the everything girl.”

“The everything girl?”

“You know, the girl in high school that could make any guy happy. I mean, what’s there not to like about you? Nothing! Not a damn thing.” He’s talking a little bit faster now, a bit of color to his cheeks as if he’s remembering high school like it was yesterday. “Why the hell do you think I asked you to every dance?”

“That’s a great question.” My voice is starting to rise now. “I’ve always wondered the same thing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is it, then?”

“I was looking out for you.”

“Out of pity.”

“Protectiveness.”

“And instead, you ruined me finding another date because you thought you needed to protect me from them!” I shake my head in disbelief. “Did it ever pop into your mind that I can take care of myself? Even back then? I didn’t have sex until I was twenty-two, Bradley. I know how to say no.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Twenty-two?”

“And now you know why!” I poke my finger at his chest. “Because you cock-blocked me all my life.”

“For your best interests.”

“It’s not up to you to decide my best interests. That’s a choice only I can make.”

“Fine, then dammit that’s not why.”

We’re both breathing heavy, nose to nose. We’d been making out minutes before, and I can’t decide if we’re about to do it again, or if he’s about to storm out of my life for good. Talk about volatile emotions.

“Tell me why, then,” I practically hiss.

“I wanted to be close to you.” He leans in closer, closer still. The threat of a kiss hovers on the edge like a thundercloud. “I knew I could never have you, and in my idiotic teenage brain, that meant I didn’t want anyone else to have you, either.”

“You were always close to me. We were best friends.”

“I wanted an excuse to touch you.” To punctuate his words, he reaches for me. His hands grasp my hips, possessive and firm, and drag me to him. “I wanted to hold you. I wanted everyone else to think you were mine. To know that it was me who you talked to, me who you cried to, me who you loved.”

“Yet you didn’t take a chance and tell me any of this.”

“No.”

His fingers slide around, pressing into my lower back. His thumbs rest on the sensitive stomach zone just above my shorts. When he curls his fingers tight, digging his nails into my skin, the sensation is so startlingly erotic that I’m forced to reach out and hold onto him.

My own fingernails dig into his shoulders as we stand still, inches apart. Our eyes are locked, our breathing mixing. The tension between us crackles. One wrong move and we’ll burst into flames. One right move, and we’ll crumble into one another.

“I never wanted to go to a dance with anyone except you,” I find myself whispering. The confession slides out, unhindered. I can’t push the papers out of my mind, still clutched in my grasp against his back. “I’ve always wanted to be yours.”

I lean on my tiptoes, my heart thudding with nerves. I’d never thought there’d be a chance for me to confess how I truly feel to Brad. If I let the moment pass, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

“I was pissed earlier when I stormed into your house,” I continue. “I thought you’d forgotten about our date. I tried to forget it, too, but I couldn’t. I wanted it so desperately I made a fool out of myself.”

“No, Lex, I did that a long time ago. His hands slide the rest of the way around my waist as he envelopes me into a hug. “I think it’s pretty clear I want to take you on a date, too.”

I laugh, pulling the papers back around between us. “This, here, is ridiculous.”

“I didn’t want to blow my chance with you.”

“No, I mean the fact that you printed things out. You know that’s what the internet is for, right?”

He groans.

“What is this talk about one chance?” I let my fingers trace along his collarbone. I’ve been dreaming of this for years. Aching for it, even. “There’s no such thing as one chance.”

“There was a lot of pressure when we hadn’t talked in three years, and it was all my fault. I had to make it up to you.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” I let my arms circle his neck, and for a moment, it’s like we’re slow dancing at prom. Sensual, fun, forbidden. The knowledge that nothing will happen—not yet—allows us to push the boundaries, knowing we both want something to happen eventually.

“Does it involve spending the night at my place?” he whispers against my ear.

Shivers skitter down my spine, the thought a tempting one. Based on the way he’s made me feel with a few kisses, those caresses, I have no doubt that my mind would explode if we progressed to the bedroom tonight.

“Maybe it’s best to ease into things,” I tell him. “Build up the anticipation.”

“I’ve been anticipating having you my whole life,” he groans. “I’m so full of anticipation it’s unhealthy.”

We spin under the moon, smiling as we both sigh. We both know it’s right. We both know it’s best to wait.

“Let’s take things slow over the next couple of months and see how things go.”

“Slow?” Another slice of agony moves through his eyes.

“If we sleep together, things will change. Inevitably.” My arms sneak tighter around his neck. “Before we do, let’s make sure things are working.”

“I know they’ll work. Do you remember our kiss?”

“I have no doubt that part of things will go just fine.” I shake my head, stifling a smile. “It’s the rest I’m worried about. How can we go back to being just friends once we’ve been more?”

His eyes ice over. “No matter what happens over the next few months, promise me that we’ll end up as friends.”

“That’s the plan,” I say. “As long as you don’t quit talking to me again.”

“I promise.”

“You can start tomorrow,” I offer. “Come visit me at my diner. It’s long overdue.”

“I want to discuss one more point,” he says. “If these next few months go well, and we can’t keep our hands off each other...”

I lean up, certain my eyes have darkened with desire. I rest my forehead against his, my words whispering across his lips. “Then, finally, we can have each other.”