Bex perched on the edge of her desk, watching Henny pace the closet-sized office.

“You’re not saying anything,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at her. Wasn’t touching her. The flames he’d stoked to life only minutes ago had been snuffed out by the interruption.

Bex didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Everything inside her still ached for his touch, the hot pulse between her thighs an inescapable reminder of his effect on her. Despite the sudden chill between them, she still longed for him.

“Neither are you,” she said.

“Don’t know what else to tell you.”

Bex’s eyes glazed with tears. The gulf between them had never felt so wide.

Somewhere along the twisty path of friends to lovers, they’d taken a wrong turn. The more she tried to get back on course, the more confused she felt. Now she was alone in the woods, no map, no gear, no compass. Totally lost.

And for the first time in her life, her best friend wasn’t there to help her find her way again.

“What are we doing, Hen?” she asked.

“Fuck if I know.” He still hadn’t looked at her, not since they’d left the bathroom.

Hope leaked out of her body, one breath at a time.

Henny turned toward the door, his back to her, his hand reaching for the doorknob, and in that moment she knew exactly what he was thinking. Henny was the most loyal friend she knew, but he didn’t do drama. Didn’t do entanglements or messy, confusing, friends-with-whatever-the-hell-they’d-become disasters.

Bex didn’t blame him. In his own way, he needed stability, too.

Just as he’d been her beacon, she’d been his rock. But she was unmoored, his light had gone dim, and neither of them seemed to have a clue how to fix it.

“Henny, wait,” she said, hoping the right words would come. The magic answer that would make all of this okay again.

They didn’t.

Henny stopped anyway. Turned around. Crossed the small space between them in a heartbeat. His hands were on her face, in her hair, his mouth devouring hers, hungry and demanding, raw and passionate. Angry, too. Afraid. It was like he poured every last emotion into that kiss, a punishment and a promise all in one.

“Leave with me,” he demanded. He was breathless now, his eyes wild and desperate and intense and oh God, she wanted it to be real. So, so badly.

“Where?” she breathed.

“Does it matter?” He fingered one of her curls, tucking it behind her ear as he brushed his lips along her jawline. “We can travel around, see the country. Camp at every national park, just like we used to talk about.”

She smiled, remembering their summer after junior year. Henny had saved up money from odd jobs to buy her a telescope and a star map for her birthday, and while the rest of their friends were out partying and hooking up and trying to get into skeezy dive bars with fake IDs, she and Henny had spent the summer learning the constellations, falling asleep under the stars almost every night. She used to dream about taking an epic road trip with him, visiting the parks in every state, wondering if the stars looked the same at the Grand Canyon, in Death Valley, in Yellowstone as they did in Buffalo.

Decades later, she still hadn’t taken that trip. She’d never wanted to do it with anyone but Henny.

“I haven’t camped since an earth science overnighter in college,” she said. “I don’t even own a sleeping bag anymore.”

“Fine, we’ll stay in five-star hotels. I don’t care, Bex. Let’s just… let’s just go. Right now. Tonight.”

“What about the league?” she asked. “The bar? Everything? We can’t just leave. We have—”

“Forget the NHL. Forget the bar. Forget Buffalo and the guys and all the bullshit. That ends now, Bex. Let your mom sell the place like she’d planned. Walk out that door with me and start over. You and me against the world, just like always.”

Hell, he was serious. One word from her, and they’d be out of there. On the road to some faraway fantasy.

But that’s all it was. A fantasy. They weren’t children camped out in the backyard anymore, fenced in from danger, ten steps away from her mother’s safe embrace. And no matter how simple and fun he’d made it sound, Bex knew bailing on Buffalo wouldn’t solve anything. Not for either of them.

“Where’s my wild girl?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. Slowly, his hands drifted to her thighs, hiking up her skirt up again, his fingers stroking the bare skin of her legs. “The one who made a hundred bucks on a dare to drink hot sauce. The one who jumped off the waterfall at Letchworth when none of the boys would.”

“You gave me hell for that after,” she reminded him.

“Only because I was completely intimidated by you.” He palmed her ass, fingers dipping beneath the fabric of her panties, His touch was warm, melting her inside and out. “You were so wild, then. Reckless,” he whispered. “I know that girl is still in there, beautiful.”

He kissed her full on, testing the last of her resolve. His touch was electric, her whole body shivering, trembling, aching for it. She was losing herself again, drifting away into the now-familiar comforts of his kiss, his breath, his promises that seemed to transport her to another world.

But they lived in this world. Reality. And now it came crashing between them once again, cold and unforgiving.

She pushed away. They were going in circles.

“You can’t keep kissing away every argument,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Earlier today you wanted me to move in with you. Now you want to leave Buffalo, see the country? You’re making me dizzy.”

“Think of the possibilities for your magnet collection.” Henny grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and soon his smile vanished entirely. “Jesus, Bex. I can’t make you happy tonight.”

“You need to make yourself happy. That’s the problem.”

“You think?” He met her gaze again, all the tenderness and excitement gone from his eyes. He was shutting down, pushing her away bit by bit, but as much as she wanted to comfort him, to give him what he wanted, to fix this for him, she couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Got any tips?” he snapped. “Secret formula? Twelve steps? Maybe an audiobook?”

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Maybe start by figuring out what you want to do with your career. You can’t keep jerking your team around like—”

“My career.” He laughed, but in it was a bitterness that chilled her to the core. “That’s pretty good advice coming from someone who keeps dropping the ball on her own business plans.”

“By dropping the ball, I assume you mean not taking your money?”

“For one thing, yeah.”

“I told you it was super important to me that I handle the bar on my own terms, no matter how long it took me, no matter what the outcome. Remember?”

“Even if you lose the whole thing? Do you think I can stand by and watch you do that to yourself? All because you’re too damn stubborn to—”

“It’s not your call. And we’re talking about you and the Tempest, not me. Stop changing the subject.”

“Oh, I’m changing it, baby. You think you can criticize my career fuck-ups and not take it on the chin yourself? Wrong.” He pulled out his cell, his thumbs flying across the screen. Seconds later, her phone buzzed with a text. “That’s contact info for Miguel, my guy at Bluepoint. Call him. He’s been expecting you.”

“What?”

“I told him about you weeks ago,” he said. “First time you showed me that little bird sketch.”

“You had no—”

“The minute I saw that sketch, I could picture it on the new sign. I could picture all of it, every last idea you ever told me about, all the stuff I saw on your spreadsheets. But I also knew you wouldn’t call him on your own. You’re stubborn and too damn proud for your own good. You needed the push. Still do.”

“Yet two minutes ago you were ready to whisk me away from this place.”

“Now who’s changing the subject?”

Bex pinched the bridge of her nose, her head throbbing. “I told you I’d think about Bluepoint. Not that you should call your man and tell him my life story”

“But you didn’t think about it, did you?”

“No,” she admitted.

“It’s not like I told him all your secrets, Bex. Just that you were a friend with a small business and some kickass ideas that just needed a little startup cash.”

“And?”

“And what? He said he’d look forward to your call. But obviously he never got it.” Henny sighed. “Look, I know you want to do everything on your own, but sometimes you gotta set aside your pride and—”

“Oh, it’s that simple?” Rage bubbled up inside, making her tremble in ways that had nothing to do with his earlier kisses. “I set aside my so-called pride, call your buddy Miguel, drop your name, and the bank magically sends me a check? What, as a favor to their star customer?”

“You worked your ass off.” Henny grabbed the stack of papers on her desk, the ever-expanding folder of ideas and research she’d been wasting her time on for months. “Once they see all these plans, I know they’ll—”

“They’ll run my credit and show me the door.”

He tossed the folder back onto the desk, papers spilling across it, colored pie charts catching her eye and making her insides hurt. She really had done a lot of work. Put her whole heart into it, actually.

“You’ve already figured it out, huh?” he asked. “Already ruled out your options before you’ve even given yourself a fair shot?” Henny shoved a hand through his hair, narrowly missing his bandage. “What the hell, Bex? What happened to you out there?”

She knew at once he was talking about California. Her ex. Her personal shame.

And this time, he wasn’t backing down.