Tess always sees the best in people. It’s one reason I love her so much. I also know it’s her downfall. She trusts too easily; she’s going to get hurt one day. Again. It’s inevitable.

It’s true that Ian and I were once buds. The more he wanted to grow his music career, the more arrogant he became. His head grew with every offer he got from gigs, and he acted like he could get anything he wanted. Girls being the biggest thing.

And he wanted Tess.

“You seriously haven’t tapped that yet?” he asks, his eyes roaming over Tessa’s body.

It makes me sick. “No.”

He looks at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. He doesn’t have to tell me he wants her, it’s in his eyes. They’re practically undressing her.

And can I blame him? No. Tess … she’s changed. In a good way. A beautiful way. I’ve noticed, especially the way she dresses now. Her jeans got a little tighter, her shirts got a little shorter. But I’m with Sheri, and Tessa is supposed to be my friend. Off limits.

“Not into her?” His prying eyes scope out my expression. His head cocks to the side. “Or is it the other way around? Can’t imagine being just friends with a chick, dude. Especially one that looks like that.”

My hand closes into a fist. “Quit talking about her like that, man. She’s my best friend.”

He rolls his eyes. “You look at her like any guy would, but you talk about her like she’s your sister. Choose a side, Will. If you don’t claim her, somebody else will.”

I narrow my eyes. “And you think that’s you?”

He winks. “Might as well be. If you’re not going to do anything about it, somebody should.”

“I’m not going to let you use Tessa.”

“Who said anything about using her?” he questions, still grinning. He chuckles. “Plus, you can’t use the willing, buddy.”

My fists clench tight at my sides. “You have plenty of other girls that want you, Ian. Don’t be a dick and use Tess. She’s … not like them.”

His brow quirks up in interest. “How so?”

I don’t reply, giving him the answer silently.

He nods in understanding. “She’s a virgin, huh? Can’t say I’ve been with one of them, but I bet it’d be a good time. Imagine all the things I could teach her.”

I’m two seconds away from punching him in the face. Ian used to be cool, but now he’s just as asshole with an ego.

“Whoa, big guy,” he muses, seeing my nose flare. “Chill. I’ll back off.” It seems like there’s an addition to that sentence: for now.

And I hope for both my sake and Tessa’s that he does.

It’s my little brother who snaps me out of my thought. More like slaps me out of it, since he smacks my chest to get my attention. When I look at him—okay, scowl is more like it—he rolls his eyes.

He says, “Dad said we’re doing chores tonight. He and Mom are going out.”

I shrug. “Fine with me.”

He peers at me. “You sure about that? I seem to recall you bitching about some concert that Tess was making you go to.”

I shrug and finish making my sandwich. “That was yesterday. She’s doing her own thing tonight. I might go over after chores and watch a movie or something with her.”

He laughs. “More like you will,” he corrects. “You’re always up her ass. Why don’t you stop being a little bitch and ask her out?”

That earns him slap upside the head.

“Hey!” he whines.

“You know we’re friends.”

“Oh please,” he scoffs. “You follow her around like a lovesick puppy. I mean, it’s obvious considering you hate Ian Wells, yet you went to his concert with her. You also hate the movies she watches, yet you watch them.”

“I am not a lovesick puppy,” I gripe, slapping a second piece of bread on top of the fixings.

People give me shit all the time. I swear it’s my family’s hobby to joke around about Tess and me. They’ll ask when I’m going to make my move, or when we’ll start dating. Shit, I’m sure my mother has a scrapbook of what our wedding will look like someday.

The pressure from them never helps my mind decide what to do. It’s like their expectations are something I want to challenge—to prove wrong. It’s stupid, because there have been times over the past few years that I seriously considered asking Tessa out. But the more people expected it, the more I hunkered down on not doing it.

Plus, she closed herself off after freshman year. Understandably so, after what happened. How could I push her? Tell her I wanted to give us a try? She needed time to heal, to figure out when she was comfortable enough to open back up.

I see the old version of her peek out from the mask she wears from time to time. She thinks she can hide behind it with a smile, but only some of those smiles are genuine. I know the difference—when she’s putting on a show versus when she’s being sincere.

It’s gut-wrenching to see what damage was done to her.

What’s worse? Not being able to help.

I shake my head. “Friends suck it up and do shit they don’t like all the time. It’s about the company. Even if it means suffering through some cheesy ass romance.”

Now Ryder is belly laughing. “You’re such a liar. Or you’re in denial. Hell, maybe you’re just stupid.” He nods. “Yeah, stupid for sure. First off, nobody just watches romance movies because their friends want them to. Not unless you’re a chick, and the last I knew, you aren’t. You watch that shit because you know it makes her happy. Secondly, I see the way you look at her. It’s gross, by the way. It’s like you’re licking her with your eyes.”

The image makes me laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. I know what I see though. I may be younger than you, but I’m not completely moronic. I know what crushing looks like, and you’ve got it bad. Pretty soon you’ll be singing along to Disney movies she’ll make you watch, because you won’t say no or ask to watch some other movie instead.”

I don’t bother telling him that Tess wants us to watch Moana tonight. We’ve already seen it twice, and yeah … I know most of the songs. Even caught myself singing to The Rock’s song when it came on.

But he’s The Rock, so I tell myself that’s acceptable.

Finally, I say, “You’re seventeen, Ry. You don’t know shit, so just stay out of my business.”

He rolls his eyes, and steals my sandwich before I can even take a bite. “Suit yourself, but one day you’re going to finally decide to make a move and she’ll have moved on to bigger and better things.”

The little shit takes a bite of my lunch.

“I’ll see in the barn at four,” he says with a mouth full of food, walking out of the kitchen.

Shaking my head, I start making myself another one. Ryder has always been wise for his years, but that didn’t mean he was always right. As much as he wanted to be, he usually had it all wrong.

Tess and I … we’re friends. Good friends. Shit, we were best friends. What we had was great; it was all I could really ask for. So why screw it up with even a hint of feelings? I weighed the options, the pros and cons. The outcome is always the same, even when I let my mind wander the possibilities a little longer than I should. I want Tess in my life, even if just a friend, because without her, I’d be lost.

It may be cheesy, but it’s true.

But still … I was a guy. I noticed her in ways that most friends probably didn’t notice each other. She was attractive. Sexy, even. There really isn’t any way around that. She is a good foot shorter than me, and I’m only six three, but even with a petite frame she has killer curves. Her stomach is flat, her legs are long and lean, and she has a slight hour-glass figure, one that makes her hips a little wider from the curves, that she shows off only when she feels like it.

She knows she’s beautiful, and not in that arrogant kind of way. She sees the kind of beauty that so many other people see in her. She knows she has a killer body, but she doesn’t hand it out. She has way more self-respect than most girls with her body type do. Well, at least from the girls I meet.

It doesn’t matter though, because what I feel for Tess is attraction and nothing more. I feel obligated to make sure that she doesn’t get hurt, which means I get protective. Most people read into it more than they should, especially our families. We know the truth and that’s all that matters.

My conscious can’t help but wonder, Or does it?

After Ryder and me finish up with chores, I drop him off at the house and jump in the shower. I know damn well Tess won’t let me in her room if I still smell like cow shit. I have yet to figure out why it bothers her so much considering she grew up on her uncle’s farm.

But I know better than to question her. Her looks are lethal when she decides I say something stupid, which is usually all the time. Best not to piss her off.

“Let me guess,” Ry says. “You’re going to see your not-girlfriend, right?”

I just roll my eyes. “Jealous?”

He snorts and plops onto the couch. “Unlike you, I actually get laid. So no, I’m not jealous that you’re in the Bermuda Triangle of friend zones.”

I shake my head. “Not everything is about sex. That’s your hormones talking, dipshit.”

He grins. “Coming from the guy who hasn’t gotten any in how long? Since that redhead chick, Sheri … what, three years ago? No wonder your arms are so muscular with all that hand action you get from yourself.”

Grabbing a pillow from the chair, I throw it as his head. Because his reflexes suck, it hits him right in the face before he can catch it. He just laughs and picks up the TV remote.

“I left a twenty on the table so you can order pizza,” I tell him as I make my way toward the door. I’m convinced Ryder would starve without an outlet to food that’s not made by Mom or me.

“Hey, Will?” he calls.

I turn. “Yeah?”

“Nothing wrong with a little friends with benefits action,” he replies, winking, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

I sigh. “Just order your damn dinner.”

He calls something after me, but the door closing between us drowns it out. Knowing him, it’s probably about sex. I swear, he’s one of the horniest teenagers I know.

The closer I get to Tessa’s, I start to consider just climbing up to her window again when I see the light on in her bedroom. Instead, I opt for the front door to make her mother happy.

“Hi, Will,” Claire says from the living room as soon as I walk into the entryway.

“Hi, Claire.”

“I appreciate you actually coming in the front door this time,” she muses, walking over to me and patting my shoulder. “Tess is in her room, although I’m sure you know that already. She ordered pizza a while ago for you two.”

I tell her thanks, then make it upstairs. Before I enter her room, her satanic cat pops out of nowhere and trips me. I almost fall on my face, but manage to catch myself on the wall.

“Dammit, Tess!” I yell, glaring at her cat.

Her head sticks out of her room.

“I hate your damn cat.”

Gasping, she picks up Ollie. “Don’t be mean to him! You know he’s sensitive.”

I roll my eyes and straighten myself out. “I don’t give a shit if he’s sensitive. That cat is an asshole and we both know it.”

She goes to argue, but she stops herself. She sighs. “Okay, he’s an asshole. But he’s adorable, so that makes it okay.”

I scoff. “You’re demented.”

“I am awesome,” she corrects me. “And you know you love it, or else you wouldn’t stick around.”

I sigh inwardly, because she’s right.

“Your mom mentioned there was pizza,” I say, walking past her into her room. I spy the pizza box on her desk, and the aroma of my favorite meat lovers caresses my nose.

She walks in with Ollie draped in her arms. She sits on her bed, putting her cat next to her. I can hear him purr from across the room, but I know damn well it’ll only be seconds before—

“Ow!” she yelps. “The bastard bit me!”

I chuckle to myself. She should have called him Lucifer like she originally wanted to. Ollie doesn’t really fit him, considering he’s so damn violent. But around the time she got him, she discovered the show Arrow on Netflix, and soon became a hermit until she binge-watched all the available episodes. As soon as Doug gave her the cat, she named him Oliver Queen. It’s no wonder he’s a dick, he’s got the word Queen in his name.

“Asshole,” she mutters.

Rolling my eyes, I pick up a slice of pizza. I can’t call the cat an asshole, but she does all the time. Although, she usually calls him much more colorful names. Cock waffle being my favorite one.

I see Moana paused at the beginning of the movie, ready for us to watch it. Putting a second piece of pizza on a paper plate, I walk over and pass it to her. I settle next to her in bed, my back against her hideous DIY decorated headboard.

Seriously, it’s like some pink fur shit.

“So how was the rest of your day?” I ask, taking another bite of my pizza.

She shrugs. “Pretty uneventful. I did go through the pictures I took from yesterday. They came out great. Want to see?”

I want to tell her no, but I nod. Seeing her weightless from worry is great, but the fact that it’s because of the Relentless concert makes me uneasy. I tell myself to let it go, because Tessa is a talented photographer—that the pictures, even of somebody as egotistical as Ian, are going to be awesome.

She grabs her camera from her nightstand and scrolls through the photos. Sure enough, they’re everything I expect. Some of them are darker from the lights, giving off a mysterious feel. Others are light, quirky, fun. Of course, it doesn’t surprise me. Tess has a talent for anything creative: photography, writing, painting. I envy her for that. She dragged me to a painting class at the town rec hall once and laughed when she saw the stick figure I painted. I am no artist.

“They look good.”

“Just good?” She frowns, like good is an insult. Maybe it is to the creative. Hell if I know.

“They’re amazing,” I concede. I notice the picture she stops at was the selfie of her and Ian. My eye twitches involuntarily, like seeing them close again builds an old fire in the pit of my stomach. On further inspection, I notice that the smile doesn’t reach her eyes—the blue tone of her hues not flickering with the same amount of anticipation that makes them an icy color.

She stares at the picture, a small smile on her face. I can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I like this one,” she admits, clearing her throat. She scrolls to the next one, where it’s focused on the crowd. “But this is my favorite. It’s just amazing to see so many people there to support the band, you know? Like he started here, and now that he’s back he’s just so much bigger.”

I fight off rolling my eyes. “I guess. Don’t tell Ian that, he doesn’t need his ego stroked.”

She laughs. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Thank fuck she doesn’t make some stupid joke about how something else needs to be stroked. If Ryder was here, he would have jumped on the opportunity to make that joke.

My phone buzzes on the mattress in between us, and Ryder’s name pops up on the screen. It’s like he knows when I’m thinking about him. Creepy.

Before I have a chance to grab it, Tess sees the message scrawled across the screen.

Remember. FWB.

My eyes widen as I snatch the phone.

Tess clears her throat. “You’ve got a friends with benefits?”

Well if this isn’t awkward …

I blow out a breath. “Nope. But this douche canoe is insistent that I get one. You know how he is, always thinking about sex and shit.”

She giggles. “Typical boy,” she teases. Her face transforms to seriousness. “Are you going to get one?”

One of my brows raise. “I don’t think so. Besides you, I’m only friends with a few other people, and they’re all guys. Not really my thing. Plus, I think it could get … messy.”

She considers it. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“What about you?”

Her eyes widen.

I clarify, “You ever wanted one?”

Relief floods her expression. She shrugs. “I guess I never thought about it too much,” she confesses quietly. “I think you’re right about things getting messy. Feelings get in the way. Maybe it’s just in the books I’ve read or movies I’ve seen, but it seems like at least one of the friends gets feelings. Then what? Your friendship is ruined.”

She has a point, a point that I repeated to myself a thousand times over. “Yeah, it’d be messy. Anyway, Ryder is just being an idiot. He claims he’s getting laid, and thinks I’m lame for not sleeping around. Honestly though, I doubt he’s getting any.”

“He could be,” she replies. “He’s a decent looking kid.”

I scrunch my face up. “You think my little brother is attractive.”

Rolling her eyes, she swats my arm. “You know that isn’t what I mean. Sure, he’s a handsome guy. All I’m saying is that I’m sure he’s a heartbreaker. The girls at school probably all swoon.”

I snort. “He wishes.”

“You just don’t want your little brother to get more action than you,” she says, laughing.

I give her the eye. “Not you, too. Geez, you guys make me feel like I don’t have any game.”

She presses her lips together.

My eyes narrow. “What?”

She draws in her bottom lip, sucking on it.

“You don’t think I have game, do you?” I accuse, suddenly insulted.

“It’s not that …” She sighs. “You just don’t ever date. You do have game, I’ve seen the way girls look at you. They totally check you out. It’s totally the muscles and country boy thing you’ve got going.”

“But?”

She toys with the toppings on her pizza, picking off some pepperoni. “You never pay attention to them. It’s like you don’t even notice all the girls practically breaking their necks to stare at you. I mean, when was the last time you went after a girl? Unless I’m remembering different, it was Sheri in high school.”

Not true, I want to say. Directly after my relationship ended with Sheri, I let my mind take over my body. I was going to find Tessa, tell her I liked her. Tell her a lot of things, just like Sheri always feared when we dated.

You can’t just be friends with a girl, Will. It never ends well.

I don’t believe that’s true. I think there’s plenty of people capable of keeping things platonic. I see it all the time, where no feelings are involved. But with Tess and me? We’re on the border, at least I am. Always teetering on the high of possibility, and the low of epic failure.

“I guess I’ve never been interested in anything,” I tell her instead, biting down on my pizza.

“But why?” she questions.

I look at her curiously. “I don’t know. I’ve never been much into the hook up thing.”

“Any of those girls would be into more than that,” she insists casually. “They’d be crazy not to. You’re a total catch.”

I playfully nudge her. “Yeah, okay.”

She smiles at me. “Seriously, Will.”

I smile back. “Well thanks. I guess.”

She rolls her eyes.

“What about you?” I return, trying to turn our focus around. “Guys are always checking you out, but you never talk about dating. How come?”

She doesn’t answer right away. “The idea of dating makes me feel weird. It’s like I get bad anxiety when I think about being in a relationship. I don’t like losing control to someone.”

I stare at her in awe. “Why?”

She glances down at her uneaten pizza. “It’s stupid, right? You’d think I have a bad view of relationships because of it, but I don’t. My parents are disgustingly cute together after over twenty-five years of marriage. Even my older brother seems to have a decent relationship. I guess …” Her face pales. “I think it’s because of that one time …”

She doesn’t have to continue. I squeeze her hand in comfort. “Shit, Tess. That makes sense. Relationships usually lead to more intimate stuff. I can see why that freaks you out.”

She closes her eyes. I can’t help but notice how her breathing becomes unsteady. Thanks to me, she’s reliving her worst memories.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Don’t think about it. It’s in the past, right? You’re not there anymore. You’re safe.”

Her hand squeezes mine tightly, which I take comfort in. I tug her toward me, putting my arm around her shoulder. She leans her cheek on my shoulder, and takes a few deep breaths.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I should have known that had something to do with it.”

After a moment, she says, “It’s not your fault that I’m screwed up.”

I all but growl, “You are not screwed up. What that mother fucker did was not your fault. Don’t even think that for a second.”

“I forgot to lock my door.” Her voice is cracked, defeated by memory.

That night isn’t one I’ll ever forget. I was out late with a few buddies I met in one of my classes, spending time at the Fishtail Bar across town. I canceled my movie plans with Tess, something that guilt holds onto. If I hadn’t canceled, I would have been there …

When I got back to our building, I felt off. Like my gut was telling me something was wrong. Then I heard her cry out. I saw the door wedged open. It was almost one in the morning, and Tess texted me saying goodnight nearly an hour earlier.

I wouldn’t change one single thing about what I did to that fucker. Seeing him—what he was doing—I went postal. If the RA hadn’t come in with his football buddies, I would have probably bashed the dude’s skull in. And with any regrets? Not a damn one.

I pull her away so I can look her in the eyes. It breaks my heart when I see tears streaming down her face. I want nothing more than to go back two years ago and beat his face in all over again. Shit, to go back and make sure it never happened.

“Look at me,” I plead desperately. I gently tilt her chin up so we’re eye-to-eye. I’m hesitant, unsure of where my limits are when it comes to touching when she’s like this. It took her months, a solid year, before she was as playful with me as she used to be. Personal space became something she cherished, and I didn’t push her on it.

“Tessa, I need you to understand that nothing about that night is your fault. That fucktard didn’t have to go in your room just because your door was unlocked; it was closed, there was no reason to. He sure as shit didn’t have any reason to put his hands on you without your permission. Everything that he did is entirely his fault. I don’t give a shit if he was drunk or not, or what excuse he used. He hurt you, and he deserves everything he got. Please, please don’t think that makes you screwed up. He’s the fucker who is screwed up. Worse, even.”

Her eyes were nothing more than blank slabs of blue, coated with a glassy shine from her slowing tears. I wanted to take away the pain, the memories, the emotions tying her to that event. If I hadn’t come in when I did, things could have been a lot worse.

I would never forgive myself then.

I wrapped her in a giant hug, ignoring the sound of my pizza hitting the floor. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I breathe in the green apple scent of her favorite shampoo. When she starts crying into my shirt, I rub circles with my palm on her back. I try to comfort her, to hold her, to do anything it takes to know that she’s safe, and she always will be around me.

Because she always is. Always has been.

“It’s going to be okay, Tess,” I promise, lips pressed against the top of her head. I hold her until her sobs stop, and mumble the lyrics to one of her favorite songs: “Stand” by Rascal Flatts.

After a long time, she mumbles, “I love you, Will. Thanks for everything.”

I brush my fingers through her hair. “You have nothing to thank me for, Tess. I’ve got your back no matter what.”

She hiccups, and pulls away. “I know, but that night …” She shakes. “You could have gone to jail. What happened could have ruined your whole scholarship. And—”

“I’d do it again,” I tell her firmly. “I would beat that sick asshole’s face into the ground ten times over for you, Tess. Even if the repercussions were bad.”

My grades in school are decent enough to get half my tuition paid. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to afford college. Hell, when things got rough at home, I took a year and a half off to help my parents, which is the only reason I’m still in school with Tess. I’m lucky the scholarship is still active now that I’m back.

She sighs heavily. “You’re too good to me.”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”

If anything, it’s the other way around.

She lets it go. “I’m sorry for ruining your night. I know you weren’t looking forward to watching Disney movies in the first place, but then I made it depressing.”

Wiping her damp cheeks off with the pads of my thumbs, I give her a warm, sincere smile. “I promise you didn’t ruin my night. You need to let it out sometimes, Tess. I know you stayed quiet for a long time over what happened, and that wasn’t healthy.”

She grumbles, “You sound like my therapist.”

I chuckle. “Well it’s true.” I shrug, adjusting her so she’s tucked into my side. “How about we watch the movie now and stuff our faces? Sound good?”

Her stomach rumbles.

She laughs lightly. “I guess so.”