I saw her first.
Blonde. Gorgeous. Feisty.
I was captivated.

But it didn’t matter because when she walks out of my best friend’s bedroom half-naked, I know I’ve lost my chance.

Now we’re roommates and constantly fighting about our living arrangements. Though we argue about everything, I can’t stop thinking about her in all the wrong ways. I should move out so I can finally get over her, but the selfish part of me can’t let go.

When tragedy strikes, we’re left to deal with it together. Instead of pushing her away, I pull her closer.

Just as we come to terms with our new reality, she reveals a life-changing event that affects us both.
And I’m left to make the hardest decision of my life—remain friends or confess my feelings and risk it all.


After an hour of messing around in my room, I decide to try to sleep. I stare into the darkness for at least an hour when I hear Lennon’s quiet sobs in the other room. I thank the paper-thin walls for that. 

I close my eyes tight, knowing I should let her be, but I can’t. I throw the blanket off and walk into the hallway, then stand outside her door and listen. I shouldn’t knock on the door. I should give her privacy. I need to go back into my room and leave her be. Instead of doing those things, though, I go against all my senses and slowly open the door. 

“You okay?” I ask softly. 

“No,” she whispers, curled up into a ball facing away from the door. “I just need to be held,” she answers truthfully. 

Regardless of what my head says, I follow my heart and go to her. I can’t let her cry in here all alone. 

I push the sheet back and slide under it. Feeling how cold her skin is, I wrap my arm over her petite frame and pull her body to mine. 

I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to hide my truths from her. Even though I want to say so many words at this moment, I allow the silence to speak. Regardless of how much this hurts, how much I’m beating myself up inside, I’ll do anything to comfort her and to help her heal, even if it means I’m destroyed in the process. 

Lennon’s quiet sobs diminish, and I know she’s finally asleep by how her breathing changes. 

I should slip out of here now that she’s asleep, but I’m a selfish man who can’t give up the opportunity to hold her like this while imagining we’re two different people than who we truly are. 

In another life, she and the baby are mine. As my eyes grow heavy, I’m smothered by the truth of our situation but force myself to fall asleep anyway.