Drew nursed his bloody mary, wincing as Avery slammed a cupboard door in the kitchen. When she came out of her little kitchen and caught his miserable expression, she gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Maybe it’s time you slow down on the drinking.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.” But she was right, and he knew it. That week he’d gone out harder than he had all year. He’d been hellbent on drinking away the pain he’d felt when Livvy had rejected him…again.

Avery fell onto the couch beside him. “Word on the street is that you and Liv are going to the wedding of the century together.”

He stared at his drink resolutely. He’d gone all week without talking about her, or that stupid wedding, or the glorious disaster of a kiss. “This ‘street’ you mention. It wouldn’t happen to go by the name Kimmie, would it?”

Avery pursed her lips, trying not to smile. Then she fell back against the pillows with a laugh. “Yeah, okay, fine. Camille told Kimmie, who told me and—”

“And you told the rest of the city,” he finished.

She punched his arm but didn’t try to deny it. One thing he loved about Avery, she owned her flaws. She was the first to admit that she was a shameless gossip. The petite brunette didn’t have a mean bone in her body but she would do anything for a good scoop. “Have you ever considered going into journalism?” he asked. “Celebrity news, possibly?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t try and distract me, Drew. You and me, we both suffer from unrequited love. It’s kinda our thing. So spill.”

Unrequited love. That was one way of putting it. Fucking hell was how he preferred to label his particular disease. A disease he’d thought he’d thoroughly expunged until it popped back up in his life like the Spanish influenza of feelings.

When he didn’t speak, Avery continued. “Seriously, Drew. I heard there was kissing. Am I the only one left in the friend zone?”

He flinched at the reminder of that kiss. Those kisses. Those were the memories he’d been actively trying to kill from his mind. He had a sort of twisted logic that if he killed enough brain cells with booze, surely those memories would be part of the massacre. Avery waited patiently. He ignored her for all of three seconds. But she was right. If there was anyone in the world who could understand this particular circle of hell, it was her.

He told her everything, including but not limited to Livvy’s lie that started the whole nightmare. He finished by telling her what he’d said before walking away. That he didn’t want to be her friend. What bullshit. He’d missed her friendship every day of every month over the past year. He wanted her friendship so badly it hurt. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Being in her life but not the love of her life would never be enough. Being her friend would be a slow, agonizing death for him. But Livvy wouldn’t understand that. She’d made the choice to stay friends with Jessie so she couldn’t possibly understand. But Avery…she got it.

After a moment of stunned silence, Avery whistled. “Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

He risked a glance and saw that she was giving a pitying look that made him cringe. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” He took a sip of the drink and awaited her verdict. Out of all his friends—the ones he had left, these days—Avery was the only one who truly understood his predicament. She should because she was in the same boat. The only difference was, she was pining over her best friend, Kimmie, who happened to be a girl and, unlike Avery, happened to be into boys.

“I guess that means you’re not in the friend zone.”

He could feel her eyes on him and tried not to give himself away again. The last thing he wanted was pity. “Nope. Not in the friend zone.” And then, because it needed to be said and he needed to hear himself say it, he added, “Not in her life, either.”

Avery’s silence was telling. She was rarely silent. For her to stop talking meant she either felt sorry for him and didn’t know what to say, or thought he was an idiot and didn’t know how to tell him.

Or maybe both.

He dropped his head back against the couch. Shit, it was probably both. He was a pitiful idiot.

“I’m proud of you.”

He brought his head up in surprise and turned to face her. She reached for her drink before giving him a sheepish smile. “You’ve done it, my friend. You’ve done what I’ve been way too much of a coward to do.”

He reached out for her hand and squeezed it. “Our situations aren’t exactly the same thing.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…” Her smile widened and looked far more genuine. “I’m proud of you. I honestly am.”

He shifted on the couch, uncomfortable at the praise, but also intrigued by it. Clearly she meant what she was saying, and it forced him to take a beat and think about what he’d done and not just her reaction.

Had it been the right move? It was stupid, really, because he was left with the same exact question he’d been asking himself all year. After he’d been a dick to her last year he’d questioned it. Wondered if maybe he should have laughed off the whole karaoke incident and gone on being her friend.

At least then she would have been in his life. But he hadn’t been able to do it. He’d spent three and a half years as her friend and he wouldn’t have traded a single minute. She’d been the best thing that had ever happened to him. She’d made him feel content and complete in a way he’d never known was possible. But then…then that stupid fucking song happened and his whole world changed.

Because he’d sung to her. Drunkenly, stupidly, he’d let her see it all. He’d let everyone see everything that had been brewing inside of him for so long.

And she’d run away. She’d practically gone into hiding. How was this time any different?

“I laid it all out there again,” he said. “And what good did it do? Now I just have to deal with rejection a second time over.” He summoned up a small smile. “You’d think it would get easier to deal with at some point, right?”

Avery shifted so she was fully facing him, one of her legs tucked up under her sundress. “You told her everything?”

Uh oh. She’d gone into full-blown gossip mode. He could practically see the saliva at the edges of her mouth. “Well, yeah. Mostly.”

Her brows pulled down. “Mostly? What the hell does that mean? You either declared yourself or you didn’t.”

“Declared myself?” He repeated her outdated words with laughter in his tone but she was very clearly not laughing.

Avery straightened, her demeanor frighteningly serious. “Drew, it’s been a year. And you never really talked even back then. That girl has no clue how you feel.”

He stared at her with a partially open mouth, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to protest. She’d known how he’d felt back then. Hadn’t she? And if she hadn’t, why would she run? Why would she have avoided him for a solid week?

Because she was confused and her boyfriend had just broken up with her. A little voice of reason refused to be drowned out by the bloody mary. He shook his head. But surely she’d known last week when he’d kissed her. He turned to Avery. “I kissed her. I fucking kissed her, Avery.”

She raised one brow. “Uh, I hate to break this to you, bro, but you kiss a lot of girls. I mean a lot.”

He stared at her again. His brain was going a hundred miles a minute. He wanted to argue with her, but a little part of him wanted her to be right.

Oh shit. There was a hint of hope hovering beneath the surface. Hope was his enemy. Hope was what had kept him in the friend zone for all those years. He couldn’t let himself have hope again. But Avery looked so sure of herself. “You think she didn’t know what I meant?”

Avery shrugged. “I don’t know. What exactly did you say? I mean, did you say that you had feelings or did you just make it seem like you wanted to fuck? Because from what you told me, it sounds like you were a rude ass and then you kissed her to piss off Jessie and then you told her you wanted ‘more.’”

He blinked at her. That sounded…accurate. It also sounded like he was an ass. Relax, Livvy, I said wanted, as in past tense. He winced at the memory. But he hadn’t meant it like that. She’d just looked so shocked. Her expression was almost identical to how she’d looked during his disastrous song. He’d felt like he was reliving that initial rejection and had lashed out in self-defense.

But she didn’t know that.

She tilted her head, confusion written all over her face. “Did you ever explain to her exactly what you meant by more?”

He stopped. He thought. He replayed every word of their conversation. “No,” he said slowly, his voice going up at the end like it was a question.

When Avery gave him a questioning look, he said it again. “No, not…not exactly.”

She dropped her head back against the couch cushions. “Duuuude. What are you doing? If you’re going to declare yourself, you have to declare yourself.”

“What is this, medieval times? People don’t declare themselves, Avery.” But even as he spoke, he was recalling her expression. That kiss. The way they’d left things with no closure. Maybe she hadn’t known what he’d wanted from her.

He knew Livvy well enough to know her insecurities, and he could only imagine how they’d grown after Jessie, the man she’d loved, cheated on her with a friend. It was possible she would leap to the worst case scenario about any guy, even him.

Especially him.

He dropped his head into his hands with a groan as he replayed their last two interactions. He’d been an ass both times. A drunk ass, but that was no excuse. Maybe she’d been wrong to run away a year ago, but he hadn’t exactly been spotless in this scenario. Or the last one, come to think of it….

The ladies’ room is that way. She’d been right. He hadn’t fought back then, and he hadn’t fought last week. Maybe he couldn’t settle for friendship, but he hadn’t fought for her. He hadn’t even told her how he’d felt. Not in spoken word, anyway. And not sober. Not in any way that counted.

Last week at the club he hadn’t declared himself, as Avery put it. In his defense, he hadn’t been sure himself what he’d wanted out of the situation. His feelings toward Livvy had been clouded by all the other shit going on. He’d been hurt by the fact that she was using him to get back at Jessie, he’d been pissed at Jessie, he’d been distracted by Camille’s dog-whistle pitch every time she’d spoken.

There had been distractions, damn it. And confusion. But then he’d kissed her. And once his lips met hers, all those other emotions and complications had blown away like dust. They were meaningless in comparison to that kiss. More importantly, how that kiss had made him feel.

Like he’d come home for the first time ever. Like he’d found salvation and peace and happiness. That was when it had become achingly clear—he was still in love with his best friend.

His former best friend.

And he’d had no idea what to do about it except kiss her again and say a prayer that she didn’t rip his heart out for a second time.

Which she had. But maybe Avery was right. Maybe there was still a chance to make this right.

He turned to his friend as if she might be his only savior. He needed freakin’ guidance over here before he screwed this all up all over again. If he hadn’t ruined his second chance already.

And that’s what he was looking for. A second chance. He’d gone about it all wrong last year. The song? That had been a nightmare. Such a poor decision. And then the way he’d handled the aftermath? Talk about immature. He’d been too afraid of being hurt that he’d shut her out. He hadn’t stopped for one moment to empathize with his best friend. He, of all people, should have known that she was going through some epic, intense shit thanks to her breakup.

He could have been patient. He could have been understanding.

Instead, he’d been an ass. His pride had taken a massive blow and he’d done what any douchebag would do—he’d put up a wall around him and lashed out at the one who’d damaged his ego.

God, he really was an idiot sometimes.

“Help me, Avery. What do I do?”

Avery’s demeanor changed from exasperated to scheming in a heartbeat. Leaning forward on the couch, she clasped her hands together as she got down to business. “Right. Let’s regroup. What do we know so far?”

“That she hates me,” he said.

She made a buzzer sound. “Wrong answer. She doesn’t hate you. That’s obvious by the way she outright told you that she missed you—”

“As a friend.”

“—and how she kissed you back.” Avery gave him a “honey, please” look. “You and I both know Livvy doesn’t just go around making out with guys she doesn’t care about in public places.”

He felt his lips tugging up at that. Damn it, hope was a dangerous little devil.

“You know I’m right, so why do you think she hates you?”

He shrugged. Perhaps she had a point. Maybe he’d been indulging in too much self-pity these days. “Let’s assume she doesn’t hate me,” he said. Oh please, God, let that be true. “She made it clear she just wants to be my friend.”

“And you are not willing to go back to the friend zone,” Avery finished for him. She totally got it. Thank God somebody did.

“Never again. I want Livvy, I—” He almost said he loved her. And while he did love her, while he’d always known he’d loved her even during this past year when he’d tried to convince himself that he was over her, he wasn’t ready to say it out loud.

Certainly not to Avery.

When he said it, it would be to Livvy.

His mouth went dry at the thought of it and he took another sip of his drink before setting it aside. He’d been using alcohol as too much of a crutch this week. Hell, this year. He needed to have his head on straight if he was going to win this game.

The only problem was…

“So what exactly is our plan?” he asked.

Avery pursed her lips, her eyes filled with a look that made him slightly scared. “You’re going to win your girl.”

He grinned. Hell yeah, he was. His smile faltered as he tried to imagine how this would unfold. “And how exactly am I going to do that?”

“You’re going to give her what she wants,” Avery said.

He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to expound. When she didn’t, he let out a little sigh of annoyance. “But I can’t do that, Avery. I already told you. I won’t go back to being her friend, not even—”

She stopped him with a hand over his mouth. “From what you told me, your friendship isn’t the only thing she wanted.” As if she wasn’t being obvious enough, she wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

When her hand dropped, he said, “Oh.” That was all he could manage as he processed that idea. She had a point. She might not have said it with words, but there was no denying what Livvy’s body had told him.

She’d wanted him.

She’d felt it—the connection he’d always known was there. He’d spent the past week torturing himself with the memory of those little moans she made when he’d kissed her neck, of the way her hands had clasped onto him as if she’d never let go. Of the way her skin had felt beneath his hands, the way her lips had tasted, the way…

Ah hell, he’d give himself a hard-on if he kept up that line of thought. He had to figure there was an unspoken etiquette rule that said no erections at brunch.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I get what you’re saying. She’d be down with something physical.”

Avery nodded like he was a dimwit. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“But—” Where to start with his objections? “I don’t just want sex with Livvy. I mean I want sex with Livvy…” That was the understatement of the century. “But not just sex. I can’t settle for a hookup any more than I could a friendship.”

God, when had he become so needy?

“Of course you couldn’t,” Avery said. Again with the kindergarten teacher tone. Shit, was he really that hopeless when it came to romance?

Yes. The answer was so obvious it went without saying. If there was any doubt, he could just take a look at his miserable track record. A few flings in high school, then off to college where he’d promptly fell in love with his best friend, who was dating his other best friend. Follow that with a long list of unmemorable hookups and passionless flirtations and it was quite the pathetic track record, really.

“Okay.” He leaned forward as well so he and Avery had their heads together and their hands clasped before them. Never before had he felt so much like a military commander. “What’s our strategy then? Assuming you’re not advising me to go from the friend zone to the hookup zone, because that is not a viable solution here.”

She nodded, her expression grim. “Understood. But let’s take this one step at a time, shall we?” She ticked off a list on her fingers. “First, we need to get you firmly outside the friend zone. You need to be so far outside that zone, you’d need a passport to get back in.”

He gave a short nod. “Agreed.”

“Second, you need to make her see how great it could be between you. Right now, she’s clinging to this idea of you as her best friend. She can’t imagine things any other way.”

He nodded again. “That makes sense.”

Avery sat up straight and fixed him with a look that was slightly intimidating. “I’m going to brutally honest with you here, Drew, because I’m your friend and you need to hear this.”

He met her gaze with an unblinking stare. “Hit me.”

She took a deep breath. “You are a man whore.”

His mouth opened automatically to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. “You and I both know that your heart has only ever been with one woman, but she doesn’t know that. As far as Olivia and the rest of our friends are concerned, you’re a player.”

He fell back against the cushions of the couch as he absorbed that. A player. Huh. He’d never seen it that way. But now, looking at his extensive backlist of women who were not girlfriends, he could see that maybe she had a point. “Everybody thinks that?”

Avery nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Oh yeah. It’s widely known that you have the romantic attention span of a goldfish and that you’ll screw anything with legs.”

He stared at her in horror and some of her enthusiasm faded. “Sorry,” she muttered. “But it’s true.”

“Fuck.” He fell forward onto his knees again.

“Exactly.” Avery shifted so she could see his face. “My guess is Olivia can only see you in two ways, as the best friend or the player. You need to show her that those aren’t the only options. You need to show her that you’re capable and willing to commit for the right woman.”

“For her,” he said, as if there was any doubt. He hated what she was saying, but he recognized it as the truth. “So why don’t I just tell her? I could explain the way I’ve always felt. Tell her that I can commit.”

But even as he spoke he watched Avery shaking her head. “You can’t just change someone’s view of you with a few words. Especially not with someone who knows you well.”

“That’s the thing, Avery. Livvy knows me better than anyone. How could she not see that it’s been her and only her?”

Avery lifted one shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I ask myself the same thing about Kimmie every day.”

They shared a moment of commiserating silence. Avery broke the silence first. “Think of it this way. You and I exerted a good amount of time and energy trying to keep the depth of our feelings hidden from our girls, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So now it’s up to us to undo all that hard work and show them what they really mean to us. But it’s not going to happen overnight and it’s going to take more than some words. We have to show them.”

He stared at Avery, partly because he was struck by her brilliance, but also… “Did I hear a ‘we’ in there, lady? Are you telling me that you’re finally going to come out to Kimmie?”

He watched his sweet, outgoing, courageous friend pale at the thought. She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know…maybe? I’m thinking about it.”

For one moment he was acutely aware of how lucky he was. At least he just had to convince Livvy that she wanted him, and not men in general. He’d been so busy wallowing in his own little pity party that he’d been a shitty friend. He pulled her in for a side hug that left them both off balance on the couch. “Let me know how I can help, yeah?”

She peeked up to give him a small smile. “Yeah. I will.” Shoving him off her, she got back to business. “But for now, let’s focus on you. When are you going to see Liv again?”

He shook his head. “No idea.”

Avery grinned. “Wrong answer. You’re going to see her tomorrow at the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party, also know as the bach party.”

For a second he thought about protesting. The idea of seeing Jessie again made him want to hit something, and having him around while he made his move was far from ideal.

But then again, Livvy had given him the perfect opportunity to be by her side. Whether she wanted to spend time with him or not, she’d provided an excuse that would make it nearly impossible to get away from him. She’d be stuck at his side if he were her plus one for the wedding.

Leaning back, he felt his lips curve up in the first genuine smile all week. Hell, he might just burst into song if he wasn’t careful—not Rick Springfield, though. He’d learned his lesson.

For the first time since he’d met Olivia way back in psych class, he had a plan to win her.

And his plan? Well, it involved sleeping with the woman he wanted more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.

Really, this might be the best idea anyone anywhere had ever had.

Ever.