Page 15 of Best Friends

“Who’s texting you?” Malcolm asks, pulling on his jeans.

“It’s Cheyenne,” I murmur.

He laughs. “What does she want?”

“I’ll check.” I open the message app to read her text.

Cheyenne: Where are you? The charity marathon starts in twenty minutes! Your car is out front so I know you’re home. Open the door, Carrick or we’re going to be late.

“Oh fuck,” I grate out, panic rolling through me. “It’s Cheyenne at the door.”

Malcolm widens his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Shit. I forgot. I… I agreed to run in a charity marathon for abused dogs. She asked me a month ago, and I completely spaced.” With trembling hands, I yank on my jeans and rush into the adjoining bathroom to brush my teeth and slap on deodorant. “God, she can’t find you here.”

He followed me into the bathroom, and in the mirror over the sink his face hardens. “Calm down. I took an Uber here, remember? My car isn’t out front so she doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s right.” I blow out a relieved breath.

“You know, I’ve spent the night before when I’ve had too much to drink.” His eyes are dark with annoyance. To make a point, he grabs the toothbrush he keeps here from the drawer.

“Yeah, I… I know. But this is different. After what we just did with each other all night and this morning—” I swallow roughly. “She’s going to see right through us if she sees us together, Malc. I… I just know she’ll take one look at us and she’ll know we’re sleeping together.”

“Would that really be so bad?”

I bug my eyes. “Yes. You know I’m not ready for that.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” He throws up his hands. “Should I sneak out the back?”

“No, I’ll just go meet her out front.” As I speak, I shoot a quick text to Cheyenne, telling her I’ll be out in a minute. Then I glance up and meet his disappointed gaze. “I’m sorry. I’d rather spend the day with you.”

“Yeah right,” he says, starting to brush his teeth.

I frown. “I’m serious.”

He spits toothpaste in the sink, then rinses his mouth. Once he’s wiped his face dry, he grates, “Then just tell her you’re not feeling well and blow off the marathon.” He leaves the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed, scowling.

“I can’t. It’s too late, and besides, that wouldn’t be nice,” I mumble as I go to dig my running shoes out of the closet. I sift through the pile until I finally find the pair I need.

He laughs. “It’s not nice? But kicking me out of your house is?”

“I’m not kicking you out.” I sit on the bed next to him, and put on my shoes. “Please try and understand, Malc. I…I can’t just blow her off. She’s my friend and I made a commitment. She’s my partner too. I don’t want her mad at me. Riding around all day with a partner who’s pissed off isn’t fun.”

“Neither is spending my day off alone,” he grumbles. “If you’d told me about this marathon I’d have joined you guys.”

“How could I tell you about it when I forgot?” Guilt nudges me, and I put my hand on his arm. “I’ll make it up to you. How about when I get back we watch a movie and order a pizza?”

His gaze softens slightly. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely. I really want to see you later. I’m disappointed too that our day was interrupted. I still can’t believe I forgot about the marathon.”

He sighs. “Okay, I guess that would work. I’ve really missed just hanging out with you.”

“I miss that too. I’m really sorry I ruined our day,” I say softly, leaning in to kiss him.

He responds to my kiss, but when the doorbell starts ringing again, I pull away and get off the bed. “Shit. I’ve gotta go.” I head to the bedroom door. “Look, stay as long as you like. Make yourself at home until I get back.”

“I’m not going to hang around in your house all day without you here.” He stands, his expression resigned. “I’ll probably shower, but then take off. I’ll just come by later and we can do the movie and pizza thing.”

I’m relieved he seems less resentful. “I’m really, really sorry, Malc.”

He shrugs. “This kind of shit is going to happen if we’re hiding. If people knew about us, I could have run with you guys. Instead I have to stay behind like some loser.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I say nothing. Hesitating, I go to him. I lean in and kiss him, and then say, “It would have been ten times more fun if you were coming.” I mean that too. I love Cheyenne, but Malcolm is my favorite person in the world.

“Yep. But that isn’t going to happen because I’m your dirty little secret.”

I grit my teeth. “Come on Malcolm. I already feel really awful about this.”

He sighs. “Sorry. You’d better go. Have fun and be safe.”

I touch his arm. “Can’t wait to see you later.”

“Same.” His smile is strained.

I hurry out of the room, and run downstairs to open the door. I pray I don’t stink like sex. I’m sure I do since I didn’t even have time to shower. I’m kicking myself for agreeing to run in the marathon. I don’t even like running.

Cheyenne looks annoyed as I step out onto the porch. She’s generally good-natured so her scowl makes me feel extra awful. “Did you forget you signed up for this?” Her tone is accusing. “You did forget, didn’t you? I can’t believe you’d do that, Carrick.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, following her to her SUV.

“That’s not like you.” She presses her key-fob and the vehicle unlocks. “If you didn’t want to do it, you could have just said no.”

“But I did want to do it. I still do. It just slipped my mind.” I climb into the car and buckle my seatbelt, glancing longingly at my house.

It kills me to leave when Malcolm is in there.

When I agreed to run the marathon, it seemed like a good cause, and I always enjoy hanging out with Cheyenne.

But now, of course, I wish I could have just spent the day with Malcolm.

A bike ride and a big breakfast with my bestie would have been amazing.

Instead, I have to run a marathon while starving and frazzled.

The drive to downtown Whispering Pines takes twenty minutes, and Cheyenne doesn’t say much. I keep glancing at her, trying to gauge just how pissed she is. Her jaw is tight, and she’s gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary. The silence is killing me.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” I try again, watching the trees blur past the window as we drive.

Cheyenne doesn’t respond right away. She tightens her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles going pale. “It’s not like you to forget things,” she says finally, her voice quieter than before. “But that’s not really what’s bothering me.”

“No?” I glance over at her, frowning.

“There’s something going on with you, but you won’t talk about it.” She keeps her eyes on the road, blinking against the morning sun peeking through the windshield. “It hurts my feelings, if I’m honest. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends.” I shift in my seat, the seatbelt tugging awkwardly against my shoulder.

She shrugs. “Doesn’t feel like it. Not if you’re keeping secrets from me.”

My stomach twists with guilt.

“Is it something with your mom? I know her and your stepdad have been fighting a lot lately.” She gives me a quick look.

I laugh gruffly. “When are they not fighting?”

“Well, if it’s not family drama, what’s going on with you that has you avoiding your friends and forgetting things?”

I shift toward her. “I really feel like you’re making too much of this. It just slipped my mind, that’s all.”

“I don’t know, Carrick.” Her profile is stern. “It feels like there’s more going on. You’ve been distracted at work too.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” I stare out the window at the familiar streets of our small Texas town.

It’s not that I don’t trust Cheyenne. It’s more that I’m still coming to terms with what has happened between Malcolm and me.

I’m not ready to face people’s opinions on the matter.

Whether that’s because I’m a private person or because I’m secretly ashamed of being bisexual, I’m not sure.

“I’m not the only one who’s noticed a change in you. Malcolm’s been really upset that you won’t hang out with us lately,” she says, shooting me a chiding glance.

I keep my face blank. “I’ll have you know Malcolm and I hung out last night.”

“Did you?” She sounds pleased. “That’s great. What did you guys do?”

My face heats and I’m glad she’s driving so she probably won’t notice if my cheeks are pink. “We had a double date with some girls.”

“Really?” She squeaks. “That’s terrific. Just like old times, right? I’ll bet Malcolm was happy.”

“He was.” I force a smile. “That’s one reason I was late today. We stayed up really late partying with those chicks.” I feel bad lying, but I have to say something to throw her off the scent.

“While I’m glad you hung out with Malcolm, that wasn’t the smartest thing to do the night before you run a marathon.” She grimaces. “You’re just asking for trouble. You’re going to suffer during the race, dude.”

“I agree. If I’d remembered today was the marathon, I never would have hung out last night. But what’s done is done.”

“I guess that’s true.” She shrugs. “Now you’ll have to suffer the consequences.”

“I know.” I sigh. “It was dumb.”

When we turn onto Main Street, it’s already chaos.

Cars are parked everywhere, and people are walking toward the town square wearing bright running gear and numbers pinned to their shirts.

The Whispering Pines Community Center has transformed into marathon headquarters, with colorful banners stretched between the oak trees and volunteers setting up water stations.

There are signs with photos of dogs and “Paws for a Cause” written in bright letters.

“Jesus,” I mutter, taking in the crowds. “How many people signed up for this thing?”

“Not sure, but I’m not surprised so many people are here,” Cheyenne says, pulling into a parking spot two blocks away. “It’s for the Sunshine Paws Animal Shelter, remember? They take in some of the worst abused dogs. There were posters all over town.”