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“I’d basically been lying to Bryce for months, not telling him how bad it had gotten, but I think he knew. He’s always been able to tell when I’m not being honest with him. I basically crashed my first day there and Bryce let me get away with it. That night, we got drunk, and he took it as the opportunity it was and got me talking. I unloaded everything on him: how unhappy I was and how much I hated school. At that point, I was considering quitting the team just to make myself a little happier, but that’d mean giving up on the dream.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, seemingly needing to gather his emotions. “Bryce reminded me I didn’t have to stay at the school. That leaving Nashville wasn’t quitting or giving in to whatever was happening by leaving. When I decided what school I wanted to go to, I made the choice based on what campus would provide me with the best opportunity to reach my dream, and it ended up not being Nashville.”

“Those are extremely solid points for a drunk Bryce Clark.” I grin at him, hoping to ease some of the tension. It must have worked, because he gives me a small smile. “Especially at almost twenty.”

“Hold on, he doesn’t stay so eloquent,” Carter laughs. “We made the decision to talk to his coach the next morning to see about getting me transferred to Arizona, which had been my second choice. The rest of the night resulted in us getting drunker and drunker.”

“Unless you’re about to tell me Bryce has a secret talent as a tattoo artist, I don’t understand how this results in you getting a wave tattoo.” His laugh brings a smile to my face.

Even the picture of Bryce being a secret tattoo artist was also more than I could bear, and my giggle sputtered out of me.

It took the two of us a second to calm down before Carter could continue his story.

“We were really drunk, and Bryce started talking about how important our friendship is to him and I was agreeing with him because I knew, even back then, he’d do anything for me, and I’d do the same for him. He decided we needed something permanent, a reminder of what it means. It wasn’t hard to find a tattoo shop in a college town that would ink two drunk idiots, clearly under twenty-one.”

I had to bite back a laugh. “Okay, but why a wave?”

“I actually don’t remember,” he admits with a sheepish smile. “All I remember lying on the table as the artist got to work on mine while Bryce was in the next bed. One of them asked why we wanted waves; Bryce drunkenly declared our friendship is like the water, always flowing.”

I clap my hand over my mouth, trying to hold in the laugh, but it comes out sounding like a snort. “Oh, my god.”

He’s red now, blushing at the memory. “We were pretty wasted. One of the artists asked for clarification and all Bryce could say was, ‘water, man,’ and I nodded in agreement like it made total sense.”

I bite at the corner of my lip, tears stinging the corner of my eyes. “I mean, at least it’s something that’s relevant to your friendship.”

“True,” he agrees with a laugh. “Now you know the story of the wave tattoo.”

I’m barely able to contain my giggles. “I do, but does this mean Bryce has a matching one?” His cheeks turn redder. “Oh, my god, that’s so cute! Where’s his at?”

Carter is shaking his head before I can even get the question out. “I’m not telling you that. He will kill me if he finds out I told you. I’m not kidding, Kat, your boyfriend will be dead. Is that what you want?”

I pout, but he remains adamant about not telling me. “Fine. I’ll just ask Josie about it.”

If anyone knows where his secret bestie tattoo with Carter is, it’ll be Josie. Josie will absolutely be willing to give me something else to tease her boyfriend about.

“Do what you have to do,” Carter replies. “Just keep me out of it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about my best friend anymore.”

I look up to see him staring down at me, heat in his eyes. Warmth stirs in my stomach. “Oh, yeah, what do you want to talk about then?”

Carter doesn’t answer, and instead moves in a fluid motion until I’m lying on my back, staring up at him. He grins at me, my legs moving around his waist to pull him in closer as he leans down to kiss me. At first, it’s not much of a kiss since we’re both smiling too big for it to be more than grins pressing against grins. A few seconds later, we melt into something slow, languid, and deep.

I relax against it, content to stay in his arms for the rest of the night.

May2024

Groaning, I reach out a hand in search of the phone that’s being extra obnoxious. Before I reach it, though, the ringing stops. Both Kat and I sigh in relief. She snuggles closer, her palm resting flat on my bare chest as we both start to drift back to sleep.

The phone starts ringing again.

Groaning, Kat rolls away from me to bury her face in the pillow. “Who is it, and why do they hate me?”

“It’s Bryce,” I tell her, sitting up a bit to grab my phone from my nightstand. Sure enough, the name on the screen confirms it. “He’s the only one who will keep calling me until I answer.”

She whines in anger, or disgust, I’m not sure. “Why can’t he leave a voicemail like a normal fucking person?”

I laugh at the mere idea of Bryce being normal, but still answer the call. The quicker I get this over with, the quicker I can spoon my girlfriend. My girlfriend who’s only wearing my shirt and a pair of lacy boyshorts. “This better be good, man.”

“So, I might have done something drastic without talking to you.”