Chapter One
Melanie
I slammed back the shot and breathed through the burn of the alcohol going down my throat and into my stomach. The college party was in full swing, with music blasting, people grinding up on each other, and keg stands being down a few feet from me. But most importantly the one person I loved more than anything close was enough I could have run my fingers through his hair.
I stared at Marcus as he laughed at something my twin brother, Zack, said. He was my Zack’s best friend, a guy who’d hung out at our house more then he was at his own. I grew up watching my tin and Marcus get into trouble, break bones because they were too rowdy, and all through that I knew he’d be my one and only. Maybe cheesy in every sense of the word, but it was the truth and I couldn’t help but shake my emotions for him.
He was gorgeous and strong, with a six-foot-three height frame and a muscular body from playing football. He never dated, was respectful, and even though he was popular he befriended everyone. I loved that the most about him, that given his status around campus he was still down to earth and sweet with anyone.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler that was conveniently located right beside me, and chugged half of it. I’d had two shots, felt pretty good, but wasn’t drunk enough that I didn’t know what I was about to do. I might be crossing lines, but hell, if I didn’t I’d never know the “what ifs”.
Tonight I’d finally tell Marcus that I loved them, that I’d never wanted anyone else but him. It was risky opening myself up like that, but the truth was I’d much rather face the nightmare of losing him as a friend then never knowing what would happen if I kept my mouth shut.
* * *
I’d left the party and headed upstairs, only because the drunken guys deciding practicing their wrestling moves in the middle of the living room was a good idea.
But getting away to think was a good idea anyway. I needed to think about how I’d come clean with Marcus, needed to tell him that I loved him. I didn’t even know if tonight was a good time to do it, but the two shots I’d had did loosen me up some, and I knew if I didn’t have a little bit of liquid courage I’d probably chicken out.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the music so loud downstairs the pictures on the wall shook. There was a lock on the door, but I hadn’t bothered bolting it, not when I doubted anyone would come up here. There were a few passed out guys blocking the stairs, and I’d had to maneuver around them. Anyone drunker than me would have probably looked at that as if it were the hardest obstacle imaginable.
Falling back on the bed, I stared at the ceiling. The stucco design was slightly mesmerizing, but it was thought of Marcus and how this would all play out that consumed my thoughts. The light was turned off, but there was a glow coming form the window outside, the streetlamp casting this muted, washed out yellow hue throughout the room.
And then the bedroom door was pushed open. I sat up, expecting a drunken asshole to come barreling in, an equally intoxicating girl hanging form his grasp, sex permitting form them, but to my surprise there stood Marcus. He didn’t look inebriated at al. In fact it he wore this serous expression on his face .My heart thundered, pounding hard against my ribs as I stared at him.
“Everything okay?” I finally asked. “Zack okay?” That’s the first thing that came to mind, that maybe my brother had gotten hurt. I knew he’d been tossing back the booze since we arrived, and he was known to start fights for the sheer enjoyment of kicking someone’s ass.
“He’s fine. Everything’s fine,” Marcus said. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” I nodded without realizing I’d been doing it. He shut the door and made his way to me. Once he sat on the edge of the bed I wondered if he could hear my heart thundering. It was certainly loud in my ears, powerful in my throat.
I glanced over at him, saw he already watched me, and felt everything in me tighten. His dark, short hair was slightly tussled, and my fingers itched to touch those locks. I could smell the cologne he wore, this spicy, masculine aroma that had me so damn wet my pantie were getting soaked.
“I saw you come up here and thought it was the perfect time to talk.”
“To talk?” I asked, feeling more confused than ever.
He nods and looks out the window, his throat working as he swallows.
“What did you want to talk about?” I feel the air become thick and hot, and it’s hard for me to breathe, not just because he’s sitting right next to me, but because the vibe he’s giving off makes me feel like something heavy is about to be brought up.
For long moments he didn’t respond, just stares out the window at that lone streetlamp that can be seen. Finally he glances at me and I feel my heart jump into my throat.
“We’ve known each other for a long time,” he says and I find myself nodding. “And we’re friends, right?” I nod again, not sure where this is going but feeling all kinds of nervous right now.
“Of course we are. You’re one of my best friends.” The guy I am in love with. “But I’m starting to get a little worried on what you want to talk about.” I sit up straighter and shift my body so I can see him better. “But you know you can talk to me about anything.” Just like I want to talk to you about so much.
He stares at me, the light from the streetlamp casting shadows along his face.
“It’s just,” he exhales and lowers his head, staring at his hands, which are in his lap. He looks at me again. “If you wanted to be with someone, loved them even, but never said anything, afraid that it would ruin what you had, what would you do?”
My heart was thundering, the idea of him wanting someone like a hot knife to my chest But a small part of me hoped maybe he was talking about me, that maybe this was one of those situations where he was telling me how he felt without actually doing it.
Or maybe that was my fantasy.
I looked out then window, thinking about his words. I could pretend like I was just his friend right now, tell him what I thought, or I could actually just be honest with him and tell him I loved him.
I stared at him once more, knowing what I needed to do. I’d wasted so much time already, and if this crossed lines then so be it.
“I—” When I looked into his eyes I saw the boy I’d grown up around, the one person I knew I’d compare all others too. I have to do this for me. “I love you, Marcus,” I blurted out, needing to get the words out before he says something I won’t want to hear and I’ll be too afraid to admit my feelings. Maybe this was a stupid move, or maybe I should have said this long ago. Either way the words were out there, I wasn’t able to take them back, and I knew that I had to keep going. “I’ve loved you for so long it almost seemed like a dream now.” I couldn’t speak very loud, my nerves clamping down on me, telling me to run far and fast.
He just stares at me, not speaking, not even showing emotion. I don’t know what to say, how to react. Should I apologize and leave, bury my head in the san and hope that form this point on it’s not so damn awkward to be around him that I just … can’t?
The very thought of never having Marcus in my life again is just too painful to even think about. No, no matter what happens, how he reacts, I’m glad I told him. I’m glad the words were finally out and no longer strangling me, keeping me prisoner. No matter what I’d done the right thing.
I hope.