“Holy shit that burns!" I crinkle my nose up at the fire the tequila leaves behind.

"Pussy." Quinn laughs, handing me a lemon and popping one in her mouth.

Flipping her off, I swivel in my seat, watching all the sweaty bodies fight for attention on the dance floor. Adam Levine's seductive voice croons through the speakers, and I sway to the beat.

My eyes wander over to the pool table, landing on Ty. Reaching up, he runs his fingers through his shaggy, brown hair and laughs at something someone says. His dimples take root, and his smile lights up his face. I tilt my head to the side, a deep sigh rushing from my lips. Ty.

We're friends.

Best friends.

That's it.

Tyson and I grew up together. Literally. Our mothers have been best friends since the day my family moved in next door. At the ripe age of twelve months, Tyson and I became friends. We not only learned how to walk together, we learned how to do every thing together.

He was my preschool buddy, the survivor of my driver's license prepping, and my co-conspirator in detention.

Tonight, we are celebrating. This morning, we graduated from college together. Me, with a degree in nursing, and Ty with his Bachelor's in biology, Pre-Med.

Quinn nudges my shoulder. "You love him. You need to tell him or you're going to regret it." She thinks she's helping, but she's not. Some things should just stay the way they are . . . I think.

"Quinn," I say, raising my glass to the server with a quick nod, letting her know I want another. "It's complicated."

She shakes her head with a sarcastic laugh. "Only because you're making it. Why you two are in the friend zone is beyond me."

The server sets down another round of shots. "Shut up and drink. To friends!" I raise my glass, tap it against hers, and down the shot. I stare at my empty shot glass. My head spins, signaling the beginning of a nice buzz. I wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but after the bomb Tyson dropped on me a couple of hours ago, I need this.

Tyson is standing in the doorway to my bedroom, his hands tucked deep in his pockets. He looks off to the side. "Harley, we need to talk." His voice is pained. He hasn't made a move to come in. I can tell I'm not going to like this. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach. I can feel it in my bones, something is off.

"Okaaaay, shoot." I train my eyes on the suitcase in front me and pull out clothes. He reaches for me, but I turn away and stuff some T-shirts in my drawer. "Moving back home is going to take some getting used to," I murmur.

"A lot can change when you go away to college for four years." He says, running his hand down the back of neck.

"Yes it does." Opening the closet door, I stare into the dark empty space. "I'm definitely finding a place of my own soon. Right after I find a job."

“Brit and I decided not to stay at Wash U for medical school." He blurts. " She wants to be closer to her family.” Ty wipes his hands on his jeans and fidgets as he sits on my bed. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Ty shifts toward me, reaching for my hand. This time, I don't pull away. "Please look at me Harley. I want you to understand what I'm saying."

I blow out the breath I didn't know I was holding and stare at my suitcase for a few more second before I look up. "Doesn't Brit's family live in New York?"

"They do." He nods. "As soon as she told me she wanted to be near them, we applied to the medical school at Columbia, and we've both been accepted. We ummm, we leave next week."

"What?" I gasp, jumping up, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. "You can't be serious." My voice rises with each word. "Just like that?" I shake my head, refusing to accept this. "You're just going to up and leave?" I shove a drawer closed harder than I intend, causing the mirror to shake violently. "One week? That's it?" Tears gather in my eyes, and I look away, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

“I’m sorry, Har." Tyson's voice cracks. " I didn’t know how to tell you." He sighs heavily, dropping his head. " I didn’t want to tell you.” His hands shake in his lap, and some of my anger dissipates. The magnetic pull we've always had draws me closer to him. My fingers itch to dive into his hair and pull him against me. To comfort him. To comfort me. Something . . . anything to slow down whatever storm he's battling . . . but . . . I don't.

“Wow." I whisper, sitting on the bed next to him. " I’m not really sure what to say." I look up, and our eyes meet in the mirror. “Is this what you want? I mean, she isn’t pressuring you to do this. Right?”

He shakes his head slowly. “No, she isn't." I reach over and grab his hand, entwining my fingers with his, and he squeezes his eyes shut with the contact. “She’s my future, Harley," he says, looking up. "This is my future. Please tell me you understand.” He clutches my hand, a silent plea for me to accept the path he’s chosen.

Don't go.

Stay.

Don't do this.

“Of course,” I whisper, my heart breaking at the lie. Unable to hold back the tears, I let them fall silently down my cheeks. My mind yells at me to say something, do something to make him stay.

"Earth to Harley," Quinn says, nudging me out of my trip down the minefield I walked through today.

I glance over at the pool table again. Tyson's arm hangs loosely around Brit's neck. Her arms are wrapped tightly around his body. Me. That should be me.

They had started dating our sophomore year in college. She is perfect in every way; she is everything I’m not.

I watch as he wraps her perfectly straight blonde hair around his hand and tugs hers beautifully sculpted face up to his. He leans down placing a gentle kiss on her pouty lips and when she smiles, I swear, I'm blinded by her sparkling blue eyes . . . I, on the other hand, was gifted with an unruly brown rat's nest on tops of my head and a pair of mossy green eyes with a tiny button nose. Side by side, we are the princess and the frog. I may be exaggerating a bit. I'm cute, or so I've been told. But she's every man's dream. She can have any guy she wants, but she wants Tyson--my Tyson.

I sigh as he pulls her in closer. And he wants her, too.

I hate her.

My relationship with Brit is rocky at best. She's frequently upset with the amount of time that Ty and I spend together. Despite our reassurances that we're just friends, she doesn't buy it. On more than one occasion, she has tried to convince him that I was harboring secret feelings for him. She went as far as to accuse me of using our friendship as an excuse to spend extra time with him.

Tyson never believed her, but she was right. I do have feelings for Ty. I’ve loved that boy since I was nine years old. The minute he punched Jimmy Tallen in the nose for calling me ugly, my heart belonged to him.

Telling him about my feelings never seemed like an option. He never seemed to be into me, and I wasn't willing to risk losing our friendship. So, I sat back, watching quietly as he dated girl after girl. I nursed his broken hearts and encouraged him to get back on the dating wagon, as any good friend would do. Then Brit literally stumbled into our lives, and everything changed. I didn’t like it at all.

Tyson use to know everything about me. He knew all of my secrets, lies, and insecurities. But that isn't the case anymore. He doesn't know my biggest secret. He doesn't know that I'm in love with him.

Something happened when he told me he was moving. I'm not sure what it was, but a puzzle piece was put into place and everything became crystal clear. I had to tell him. He can’t leave without knowing the truth. I've always been able to predict how Tyson will react to things, but I honestly have no idea how he is going to respond to this

“One more shot,” I say, raising my glass to Quinn.

Her lips curled in a devious smile. “Someone is getting brave.”

“ I need all the liquid courage I can get.” We tap and chug.

“It’s about damn time.” She has been trying to get me to confess my undying love for Ty for the past four years.

My head spins when I move to stand, but it’s not because I’m drunk. Confrontations were never my strong suit. Not that I’m going to confront Ty in a bad way, but still.

On unsteady legs, I make my way across the bar. Ty is playing pool with Levi and Cooper, his college roommates. This is the perfect time to approach him since Brit is standing at an adjacent table talking to some of her friends. I would prefer her not be present for this conversation.

Levi greets my intrusion with a hug. “Hello, gorgeous.” His hand roams down the small of my back, and I smack it away playfully.

Poking his chest I give him a firm look. "No ass grabbing tonight." I scold.

I lean against the back wall as Cooper sweeps the table and that's my cue. Wasting no time, I kick off the wall and approach Ty. “Hey, got a sec?”

He cocks his head to the side giving me a lopsided grin that makes my insides melt, and my knees wobble. “Anything for you, you know that.”

Taking a deep cleansing breath, I calm my nerves. “Can we step outside. Maybe somewhere a little more quiet?”

Tyson purses his lips, tilting his head to the side, but he doesn’t protest. Instead he places his hand at the small of my back and steers me toward the side door.

“I think there are some tables outside in the back,” he says quietly.

I nod once and continue for the exit, Tyson opens the door and a warm rush of hot air greets us. I look around not finding any tables. Ty guides me to the right, and toward the back of the building and a group of picnic tables. We walk quietly side by side while I give myself a pep talk.

Breathe.

You can do it.

Breathe.

What’s the worse that could happen?

Don’t forget to breathe.

We come to a stop by the table. I grab Ty's arm, preventing him from sitting. “I think you’re going to want to stand for this.”

I know him all too well and I’m sure that within the next two minutes he’ll be pacing like a bull.

“Okay. You’re starting to make me nervous, Harley. Is everything okay?” He runs his hand through his hair, giving it that I-just-had-wild-monkey-sex look, and then he shoves them both into his pockets.

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. It’s now or never. “I love you.”

Smiling sweetly, he replies, “I love you, too.”

I shake my head, pinning him with my stare, trying to convey just how much my feelings have morphed from friendship into something more. “No. I love you, love you, Ty.”

At first he just looks at me, and I’m not completely sure he understands what I’m saying.

But then I see it.

Acceptance, relief, and fear flash quickly through his eyes, before they settle on me. Written all over his face is the one thing that makes this all worth it: Love. Pure love.

My body sags with relief. This was the right move.

My small bubble of hope is quickly popped as Tyson's expression changes. His face turns cold. His eyebrows narrow. He shakes his head slowly. He looks over at me, then stares at the ground, clenching his fists. When his eyes land back on mine, the love that I saw a second ago is gone. But it was there. I saw the adoration in his eyes. He can fight it all he wants but it was there.

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.” I beg. My voice is panicky. Desperation takes over. I cling to his arms, trying to get him to look at me, but he shrugs it away. “Stay. Please stay. Stay here with me. I love you.” My words rush out, tumbling over each other. I just can’t stop them. “I know you’re my best friend, but I love you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you Ty. Give me, give us a chance.” I reach slowly for his hand, needing to make some sort of contact, but he pushes me away. With his fingers tightly laced together, he placed his hands on his head and paces in circles.

"I know I'm asking a lot," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "I should have told you a long time ago, but I didn't, and I can't change that now."

Tyson keep walking in circles clenching and unclenching his fists.

I take a hesitant step toward him. "I know that this is incredibly selfish of me. I know I'm asking you to give up everything but---"

"I can't believe this is happening." He interrupts. I don't respond because I'm not given the chance. "How long Harley? How long have you felt like this?"

"Years."

"Years?" He asks incredulously, his eyebrows arched.

I nod my head, swallowing hard, suppressing the tears threatening to fall.

His head drops down. His voice is quiet but full of curiosity. "Why now, Harley? Why not a year ago, a month ago, or hell a week ago? Why now?"

"Because you're too important to me, Ty. I was scared." My voice cracks when I say his name and a fat tear streaks down my cheek. "I didn't want to risk our friendship. I didn't want to lose everything we have if you didn't feel the same way." I squeeze my eyes shut and hang my head in regret. I should have told him sooner, but I've come this far, and I'm sure as hell not giving up now. Wiping away the wetness under my eyes I step in Ty's path, preventing further pacing. "Would it have mattered? If I would have told you a year ago, a month ago, or a week ago . . . would it have mattered?"

His eyes are downcast, and his lips are tilted in a frown. My chest tightens. My hand twitches, wanting to touch him, but I don't.

"Yes," he whispers, looking up at me. "It would have mattered."

"Then it matters now!" I snap. "If it would have mattered then, then it matters now. We can do this Ty. You just have to take the chance. Please take the chance. Please," I beg.

His emotions shift once again as anger and resentment visibly overtake the sadness/ Reaching for his head, Ty grips his hair tightly, and a deep growl rips from his throat. "Damnit Harley." His voice is low and hard. My eyes widen in shock at the menacing glare he shoots at me. "What the fuck do you want me to say to that? You're doing this because I told you I'm leaving. Do you realize what you're asking? You're asking me to uproot my entire life. Do you know the work it took to transfer medical schools? And what about Brit?" His mouth parts and a look of horror overcomes his features. "Brit," he mumbles to himself. “Fuuuuuck. Brit was right.”

He begins to mumble. I’m not sure if he is talking to himself or to me, but his words are like a punch to the gut. “Brit told me you had feelings for me. I didn’t listen. I defended you. I mean . . . I had hoped you did, but I didn't know. I told her she was wrong and that she was just jealous.” He looks up at me, eyes wide with shock. “But she was right. My god! All those times I left her to spend time with you . . .” His words drop off but quickly resume. “I told her there was no way you felt that way about me because you're my best friend.” He stops pacing and turns to face me, but his eyes are trained on the ground.

Silence consumes us. Tension fills the air.

“Ty, say something please,” I whisper. “Please tell me what you’re thinking. You’re my best friend, and I know you feel like I’m just throwing this at—"

“But you are,” he interrupts loudly. “You are just throwing this at me, Harley!” I grip my hands tightly in front of me, wringing my fingers together in pure desperation. My heart slams in my chest. I know he feels the same way. He loves me. I saw it in his eyes. I just have to convince him that this is right. I wait patiently for him to continue, but when his hard gaze lands on me, my hope vanishes into thin air. My heart plummets to the ground. His lips are set in a firm line, and his eyebrows are dipped low in disappointment.

“I’m with Brit,” He states firmly. “And I’m not going to hurt her; I can’t." He shakes his head. "She hasn’t done anything to deserve that, to deserve this," He says, waving his hand between the two of us. The pacing continues, back and forth in front of me until he finally removes his hands from his hair and places them on his hips. He turns to face me. There is a finality in his eyes that causes my resolve to crumble. I throw a hand up to my mouth, but I can't stop the sob that slips out.

“Harley . . .” He trails off; his eyes are searching mine, for what, I’m not sure. “Harley, I can't do this. I'm sorry, but I just can't.” He pauses again, taking a second to sit down on the table. Placing his elbows on his knees, he bends forward and lowers his head. His voice is so soft that I almost don’t hear his final words. “We need to step back and take a break. From our friendship Harley . . . We need to take a step back from our friendship.”

I cry, and my body trembles. "No." My hands shake, and my mind works furiously to find a way to fix this. "No," I repeat desperately. "We don't need to take a step back. We need to move forward." I crouch down in front of Ty and grip his fisted hands in mine. "Please give me a chance. I know you're scared, but I promise, you won't regret it; you won't regret me." My eye flicker across his face, pleading with him to take this leap.

He exhales loudly and raises his face. “I can’t believe you're doing this to me. To Brit. Now. When I’m suppose to be moving to New York in a week. A fucking week, Harley!” Standing abruptly his eyes locks on something over my left shoulder, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him to find out what it is. “I can’t do this. I won't do it.” There is finality in his words, and a cold shiver of realization trembles through me. “I’m leaving next week for New York. With Brit. It's best for my relationship with her if you and I don’t talk . . . at least not until I can sort through all of this in my head.”

His words hit me like a knife to the chest. He can't mean that. He's just shocked. "We can't be friends?" I hiccup, gripping my chest where I'm sure there's a gaping whole from his words. “Please don’t do this. Please Ty! I’m sorry.” I grab his arm, forcing him to face me. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, forget I said anything. I can’t lose you, I won’t lose you.” My tears fall freely. I’ve stopped wiping them away; there’s just no point.

I startle when I hear someone behind me clear their voice. I turn slowly and come face to face with Brit. I’m not sure how long she's been standing there, but based on the look on her face, I’d say she pretty much knows what’s going on.

Ty moves to walk around me, and I quickly grab his wrist. “Please Ty,” I whisper. Gently removing my hand, he reaches for Brit, entwining his fingers with hers. Without a glance back, they walk in the door.

Slumping down onto the picnic table, I close my eyes, praying that this was all a bad dream, and I just have to wake up. Realistically, I know it’s not, but there is always that small window of time right after something horrible happens that you feel like if you hope and pray hard enough you can actually rewind time and undo it.

I grip my hair tightly at the scalp and watch as my tears cascade off of my face and hit the table below. I'm not sure how long I sit, but eventually I get up and pace the alley behind the bar, trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened.

What on earth have I done?

He can’t seriously end our friendship,

He can’t really walk away.

There is way too much history for him to do that. Right?

A gravelly slurred voice interrupts my thoughts. "Harley? That you?" The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I squint through my tears, trying to see who the drunken voice belongs to. Relief washes over me at the familiar face. I try to respond, but a deep sob comes out instead. He moves to my side quickly. "You're crying," he says, putting a comforting hand to my back. "Please don't cry."

I normally wouldn't get this close to someone who isn't Tyson or Quinn, but right now, I need the familiarity. I need the comfort that he offers, and in a desperate move, I wrap my arms around his middle, bury my face in his chest, and cry like I've never done before.

The stench of smoke deeply rooted in his shirt fills my nostrils and the stale odor of liquor makes me sick as he whispers calming words in my ear. I should be worried. I've heard that he's gotten into some heavier drugs recently, but I know I'm safe.

We stand there for several minutes, neither of us saying a word. His body sways slightly to the left. I grip him tightly to steady his balance and raise my face to his. "Are you okay?"

His red rimmed , glossy eyes lock onto mine, but he doesn't respond. I watch his expression change. A shiver runs up my spine as goose bumps take over my body. "Are you okay?" I repeat, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. Loosening my grip, I attempt to step back, but his arms tightens around me.

"You always smelled so good," he slurs, eyes roaming my face. His hand slides up my back and to my neck. He wraps his fingers around my hair and tugs, forcing my head to snap back. Leaning into me, he runs his nose up the side of my neck, and my stomach churns. "I would have given you anything. But I wasn't good enough for you was I?" I don't respond and he yanks my hair again , arching my back. "Was I?" He seethes.

I’ve never been in a situation where I feel legitimately uncomfortable in the presence of another human being, but right here . . . in this second . . . I am terrified. Adrenalin courses through my body. My heart slams violently in my chest and my muscles tense as the terror washes through me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. A sharp pain rips through my scalp. My face smacks the ground, and a metallic taste fills my mouth.

Please God. Please let me survive this.

Tyson

My hand grips Brit’s so tightly I let go in fear of actually hurting her. She follows behind me quietly, across the dance floor, past Levi and Cooper at the pool tables, and up to the bar. Flagging down the bartender, I order a drink, “Bud Light bottle.” I turn to Brit, raising my eyebrows and cocking my head toward the bar.

“I’m good” she replies quietly.

The bartender grabs a beer from behind the bar, pops the top, and slides it to me. I raise the bottle and begin to drink, my eyes landing on the door across the bar we just walked through.

Brit stands there, absently rubbing my arm. She is giving me time and space, but her stare begs me to say something. To be completely honest, I am absolutely dumbfounded at what just happened. When Harley asked to talk to me, I was expecting her to tell me she is going to miss me but supports me regardless. I was not expecting her to tell me she loves me and beg me to stay here to give her and me a chance. She completely caught me off guard. At first, all I felt was relief. She had said the words I've wanted to hear for so long.

I made the right choice . . . right? I mean . . . I've worked so hard to get where I am. It took a lot of work to switch medical schools. I just can't veer off course right now and then there's Brit. I love Brit. Am I ready to just walk away from her?

No. No more second guessing myself. I made the right choice.

I shouldn't have gotten mad that she didn't tell me sooner. That just makes me a hypocrite because I never told her how I felt either. I didn't mean to yell at her, and her tears were almost my undoing.

I've never yelled at Harley. Ever. And I hate that I made her cry. The other part of me feels horrible for Brit. I was ready to tell Harley I loved her too. I itched to pull her into me, bury my face in her thick brown hair, and tell her how happy she'd just made me. But that split second thought quickly vanished when Brit's face popped in my head.

I'm not sure when I started looking at Harley differently, but by the time I realized that I harbored some feelings for her, I was in college and the last thing I wanted to do was tie myself down. It makes me a prick, but it's the truth. I didn't want to be shackled to the girl next door. The girl who had naked pictures of my butt and took baths with me when I was growing up. I'm a guy. I wanted to drink beer with my friends and fuck hot girls.

I wasn't expecting to meet Brit. In fact she literally stumbled into my life when she tripped on the sidewalk and landed conveniently in my lap, and I sure as hell wasn't complaining. She was new and exciting, and she looked at me like I was a shiny toy that she couldn't wait to play with. And I wanted to be played with.

It was nice being around someone that didn't already know everything about me. I enjoyed telling her stories and having her ask me things rather than just knowing them like Harley.

Brit rests her hand on my forearm, pulling me from my thoughts, and I turn to meet her eyes. “You okay?” she whispers.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

She links her fingers around mine, and her next words absolutely floor me. “Do you.” She hesitates; her eyes frantically search mine. “Do you want to stay? Here? With Harley?” Her eyes drop to the floor.

Gripping her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I lift her gaze back to mine. “No. Absolutely not. I love you, Brit." I say, brushing my lips gently against hers.

She nods, accepting my answer. “We still need to talk about what happened. If you choose me, then you need to choose me one hundred percent.” Exhaling loudly, she shakes her head. Lifting her hand, she runs her fingers behind my ear into my hair, rubbing my cheek with her thumb. Rising up onto her toes, her lips meet mine, and then with absolute resolve, she says, “I’m sorry about what just happened, but I’m done sharing. I will not share you with her anymore; we’ll never make it if I have to.”

Taking a long swig of my beer, I sit the bottle down and wrap her in my arms, pulling her close. I need to comfort her. I need her to comfort me.

“I know.” I whisper into her ear.

Making our way over to Levi and Cooper, we quietly join in the camaraderie. Brit starts up a conversation with one of her friends while I stand there and pretend that my life didn’t just completely change.

I can’t help it. I continue to stare at the back door of the bar, waiting for Harley to come back in. I just need to see her and make sure she’s okay. I just practically tossed her out of my life, and I feel like a complete asshole for that. Right now, though, I would give anything to rewind time a few minutes and change my wording a little bit--something less harsh, something to ease the blow, if that would’ve even been possible.

The thought of not talking to Harley everyday scares the shit out of me. It’s an indescribable feeling, but if I had to try I’d say that the thought of her not being a part of my life leaves me feeling . . . lost.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but Brit and I sit with Levi and Cooper while I nurse another beer and lose another game of pool. A part of me is concerned that I still haven’t seen Harley come back in, but I also don’t see Quinn anywhere, so it’s possible that Quinn met her outside, and they left. I want so bad to go search for her and talk this out, but Brit deserves better than that.

“Come on Brit.” I grab her hand “Let's go home”. Halfway through the bar, she tugs on my arm, and I turn to her, raising my eyebrows in silent questioning.

“Do you want to go find her? You know, to umm, to make sure she’s okay?” I tighten my grip around her hand and pull her in for a tight hug. “You are amazing do you know that?” I mumble into her hair.

She looks up at me and smiles sadly. I kiss her nose and whisper, “Let’s go home. I can talk to Harley later. Tonight I need to be with you.”

Proceeding through the bar, we exit out into the warm summer heat. I open the passenger door to my truck, allowing Brit to slide in. Shutting her door, I jog around the front, anxious to get home to show and reassure Brit how much she means to me.

My truck roars to life, and I reach over with my right hand and grab onto Brit’s, entwining our fingers and bringing them to rest on my thigh. She smiles sweetly. I know Brit feels bad for what happened with Harley tonight; she knows how much Harley means to me, but I also know that Brit will have plenty to say about it when we get home. She’s never really cared for Harley, and I’m sure that this just pushed her over the edge.

Pulling up to the road, I signal a left turn, and for no particular reason, I glance into my rear-view mirror. My gaze catches on Harley's red Mustang, and I furrow my brow in confusion.

She’s still there?