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Tommy

“If this was a romantic comedy,”

I admitted to Owen, “Amos and I would’ve gotten together during our freshman year.”

Owen just shrugged and made a noncommittal sound, like he usually did when I griped about Amos not being that into me.

Unfortunately, for me, at least, we never even talked about us being anything but friends.

In fact, we fast-tracked to best friends.

Owen and I were close, of course but Amos and I… well, we were joined at the hip, as my grandma would say.

Amos gave so many mixed signals that I finally realized he must not like me or even guys at all.

I mean, he was honest about it, telling me he hadn’t come to terms with his sexuality.

He didn’t date anyone, male or female, although plenty of people, including me, were interested.

So I forced myself to keep Amos in the friendzone and began dating the dumbest men on the planet.

Unfortunately, Owen and Amos thought my run of bad dates was funny.

Screw them.

Owen wasn’t much better, although he was at least attracted to guys who weren’t total meatheads.

I swear some men I went out with were dumber than…well, rocks were smarter.

Amos was a drama major, which was strange for a football player, but by that point, I’d learned Amos was a contradiction.

He marched to the beat of his own drum— something I admired about him.

I became a journalism major in my sophomore year, so Amos and I ended up in several classes together.

In fact, we spent so much time together studying and hanging out that Amos suggested we should become roommates.

Before I could think better of the potential for disaster, I answered, “Sure, why not?”

I ignored the number one reason why not: I still massively lusted after him, thinking of him exclusively when I beat off in the shower.

Fuck, what was I doing?

Keeping your straight friend in the friend zone, I reminded myself.

I wish I could, but obviously my porn-centric mind hoped he would eventually put the moves on me.

Once we were roommates, he and I became even closer.

I figured we were as near to married as one could get without having sex.

He was the first guy I turned to when I needed support and the last guy I wanted to see before falling asleep.

I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t dream of those big beautiful arms wrapped around me, keeping me safe, or all the things I imagined doing to him.

But as time went by, I’d become so attached to him, I swore I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our friendship.