Page 2

CHAPTER 2

MONROE

My eyelids are heavy as I pull them back, blinking a few times to reorient myself with my surroundings.

My head rises and falls slightly, the warmth of a muscular chest beneath my cheek. I gently sit up, not wanting to disturb the sleeping Paxton who lies beneath me.

The reality of last night crashes over me, and I swear my entire being cringes at the memory.

Breaking up with Liam after one too many jokes about us riding off into the sunset together—after I continuously told him that wasn’t going to happen—and him abandoning me at that chaotic festival I hadn't even wanted to go to in the first place as a result, stings .

Paxton coming to pick me up with no questions asked and somehow finding me among a sea of faces, helping me come down from the panic that had gripped me, soothes that small hurt, just a little.

I must’ve fallen asleep in his arms last night after he brought me back to his place. I’m not entirely surprised. Paxton has always been a safe space for me.

Liam had tortured me for a week after yet another disagreement about our future, playing music at all hours of the night and having his friends knock on my door like high schoolers pulling pranks. Last night was the first decent sleep I've gotten in a while, and it was on a couch, with Paxton’s muscled body beneath me.

I look down at him, my heart expanding in my chest. Involuntary need flares through my veins. I smell like him—coriander and lavender with notes of orange blossom—and I really like it. It's not the first time we've fallen asleep together, but it’s the first time I needed him so badly, to cling to his solid safety in order to ground myself.

Our families have been friends for decades, so we’ve been on our fair share of camping trips and vacations where we were always tossed into our own hotel room, spending the midnight hours indulging in room service treats and laughing until our stomachs hurt.

Paxton has been a constant my entire life, a true friend I can be completely myself around and never fear reproach or judgment. We have a mile-long list of adventures our families have taken us on, and I’ve never once felt like our time together was too much .

Honestly, I can never get enough of him, and that always scares the shit out of me.

I look down at my best friend now, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips while my heart aches in a way that’s hard to describe. Paxton means everything to me. He’s my center of gravity when I’m threatening to spin right off the planet.

And I want more with him.

I have for so long, the ache is almost a permanent piece of me. And it’s gotten worse over the last few years. I don’t know how much longer I can go on denying it.

But just because I want him doesn’t change things.

I don’t want to get married. I never have.

Thanks to my mother being one of the most sought-after divorce lawyers in the country, I’ve witnessed enough of her cases to know marriage isn’t something I want to subject myself to. It doesn’t matter that my mom and dad have been happily married for decades…I’ve seen too many relationships fail to ever want to risk it.

And Paxton? He’s talked about wanting to get married and have kids someday since we were teenagers.

There’s no way I would mess with his dreams by asking him to be with me but not in a way that would eventually lead us down the aisle. It would be too painful on both ends.

And even with Liam, as not serious as things were him, he’d still found a way to hurt me. Of course, he didn’t know about my triggers or abandonment issues or my problems with crowds because he’d never taken a minute to ask me about anything beyond surface-level stuff. Which was ironic, since he constantly talked about marriage and kids and white picket fences.

Should I have waited until we'd gotten back to the safety of my apartment before breaking things off? Probably. But I honestly didn't believe he’d be so angry with me that he’d leave me stranded without a car. He probably assumed I’d call somebody to pick me up or grab a Lyft…he couldn't have known the panic attack he set off, but it doesn't exactly excuse his actions, either.

The memory of Paxton finding me, his eyes meeting mine, his hands on my face as he pulled me to him, rushes through me. A succession of warm tendrils spirals beneath my skin, making me feel all sorts of things.

Safe being one of them.

Just like I’d felt safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. He could’ve moved me off of him last night, he knows how deep of a sleeper I am. He could’ve gone to his bed in the middle of the night, but he didn't. And I hate that my mind lingers on the reasoning behind it, that nagging thought that's plagued me for so many years—does he feel the same way as I do? The need? The longing? The electricity whenever our bodies touch?

Even if he did, I’ll only let him down. Paxton deserves someone who will be just as excited for marriage and kids someday as he is, and that just isn’t me. Besides, he’s the one person in this entire world that I can’t lose, and if I tell him how I really feel, it’ll change things between us, quite possibly enough to end our friendship.

Paxton stretches, his muscles clenching and relaxing from the motion before he opens his eyes. He glances around before seeing me sitting there next to him, and the smile that spreads across his face is breathtaking. It makes my heart flip, and my breath catch.

I quickly stand up, flashing him an apologetic look. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night. I doubt you sleep on your couch often.”

“You didn't make me uncomfortable,” he says, chuckling softly as he stretches again.

“If I did,” I say, “I can give you free body work. If you have any cramps or anything. I know it's off-season, but the last thing I want is to mess you up in some way.”

Paxton sits up, his hands sliding into mine as he shakes his head. “You didn't hurt me,” he says. “I'm just glad you were able to get some sleep.”

“I feel like a new woman,” I admit, then motion to the guest bedroom where the bathroom inside is calling my name.

I hurry into it, brushing my teeth and washing my face, trying to get a hold of my racing thoughts. If I stood out there much longer, I would’ve been very tempted to fall right back into his arms and ask him to hold me until I felt completely solid again.

And he’d do it, too. I know he would. Paxton has never failed to help me, and I’ve always made sure I’m there for him, but he always seems so much more put together and solid in his life than I do. He’s always been that way, even when we were kids. Confident yet humble, chill yet perceptive. I think that's why he was drawn to me when we were younger, not because of the forced proximity due to our parents’ friendship, but because I brought the kind of chaos into his life that only an extrovert like myself could.

And now here I am, doing it again. Crashing in his house because I can’t live in my apartment anymore.

A sense of loss sweeps over me at that thought as I see to my needs and get dressed for the day. I loved that apartment. I’d worked my ass off for it. It was my first place after college, and now I’m going to lose it because I’m the foolish girl who dated a guy who lived next door.

Of course, I hadn't known he lived next to me in the beginning, but still. That’s on me. I should’ve known Liam wouldn't be okay with casual, but he'd been so different in the beginning. So kind and insightful and fun.

Now I don’t know where I’ll go. I hate this feeling.

I head out of the spare bedroom, following the smell of bacon all the way to Paxton’s kitchen. He sets two plates of food down on his small dining room table, smiling at me. “Thought you might be hungry,” he says as he takes a seat.

“I am,” I say, my heart warming at the gesture. Paxton has always been exceptionally good at reading me, and he knows food is one of my main love languages.

I scoop up my fork and dig into the eggs and bacon before biting a piece of the toast that he's covered with blackberry jam, my favorite. I take a dramatic sip of the coffee as well, sighing contently.

“Thank you,” I say. “For everything.” It's hard to encompass how much he's done for me in the last twenty-four hours, and this breakfast might just push me into tears. I do my best to force them back and give him a brave smile.

“Of course,” he says, taking a few bites. “So, what are your plans for the day?”

I blow out a breath, using the bite I've just taken as an excuse to think of the correct answer. He's already done so much for me, it's hard to think about dumping all my stress on him even more. But he's my best friend, and I'm never going to lie to him.

“I’ll need to spend the day apartment hunting,” I finally answer, shaking my head, still angry that I’m giving up my place just to regain my peace. “I highly doubt I’ll find something within a week, but I’ll do my best. I'll probably have to sacrifice a few things, but anything will be better than living next to..." I don't even bother saying his name. I wouldn’t even call him my ex since I never thought of us as a couple in the first place. Sure, we'd been dating, but we'd never reached the title stage, at least not on my end.

Paxton leaves the sentence hanging there, not asking me to divulge anything more, which I'm grateful for. Not that I wouldn’t explain if he asked, but my head is killing me, my to-do list growing exponentially in my mind.

“You know,” Paxton says after we've finished eating, pushing away from the table and grabbing our plates as he heads to the kitchen.

I quickly follow him, not wanting him to wait on me hand and foot.

“I might actually know a place,” he says as he puts the dishes into the sink.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my eyebrows raising as I playfully shove him away from the sink and start washing our plates. “Where is it?”

He settles next to me, a cup towel in one hand as he extends the other, taking the clean plate from me and drying it. “Here,” he says once he's dried the other plate and put them up in his cabinet.

I take the cup towel out of his hands, drying mine before I hang it up above the sink. “What?”

“Here,” he says again, motioning around the room. “I already put your stuff in the spare bedroom,” he continues. “The room is yours, if you want it. I have a ton of space, and you can stay here as long as you like. Give you the time to find an apartment that’s perfect for you instead of settling because of a time crunch.”

Elation soars through me. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he says. “It's not like we haven't sort of lived together before,” he teases.

I laugh. “Spending two weeks in a villa in Rome with our families doesn’t really equate to living together.”

“I mean, we slept in the same room and brushed our teeth at the same time. Had breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Pretty close.” He shrugs, an easy smile on his lips. It’s a simple gesture, but damn, he looks so good standing there like that, his light gray T-shirt stretching tight over his muscled chest.

“How much will rent be?” I ask. I know he bought this house outright with money from his Badger contract, but that doesn't mean I’ll stay here for free.

“No rent,” he says, shaking his head as he straightens a few things on his kitchen counter next to where I stand. The action draws him closer and warm shivers skate across my skin. “Putting up with me will be enough of a payment for you,” he says.

“Oh, stop it,” I say, playfully nudging his chest. He doesn't budge an inch, so my hand just sort of lingers there for a moment. “You're the easiest person to be around.” I drop my hand, but we're still so close. It's not a new thing, this physical affection and comfortability with it, but it's been ramping up in tension for a while now.

Living with him would make that need inside me so much stronger.

He smiles down at me, pushing some stray hair away from my face. “I just want you to feel safe,” he says, and the sincerity in his words makes emotion clog my throat.

I take his hand, squeezing it. “I'm always safe with you.” My voice cracks on the admission. “I just don't want to be a burden for you.”

“That's not a possibility.”

I want to argue…want to explain a million ways I can be a pain in the ass—my midnight snacking habits, how much hot water I use, how I rarely make my bed—but I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

I want to throw my arms around him.

I want to cross the line I've thought about for years.

I want to know what his lips feel like against mine, his body, all of him.

I already know I love him, but I'm pretty sure I've been in love with him for a while.

But it would be selfish as hell to do any of that. Especially when I know what he wants out of life—a wife and kids and a couple of dogs. A pretty life, but not one I’ve ever truly entertained.

So, instead of being selfish, I drop his hand and pull away from him, offering him a soft and grateful smile.

“As long as you're sure it's okay,” I finally say as I walk out of the kitchen, lingering there as I look at him where he leans against the counter. “I'll take you up on your offer.”

“I'm sure,” he says confidently. “We'll clear out your place over the next few days.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I honestly don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Well, lucky for you, you're never going to have to find out,” he says.

“Sure I will,” I say before I can stop myself. A sense of dread spreading through me.

He furrows his brow.

“When you get serious with someone,” I clarify, hating the bitter taste it leaves in my mouth. I shrug. “Can’t have a girl friend getting in the way of a relationship.”

Paxton visibly swallows. “That’s not on my radar right now.”

I nod. Someday it will be. I’ve thought about it too many times to count. The minute he finds his match…our entire friendship will change. I do my best to bury the thought, drawing up a smile for him.

I jerk a thumb behind me, toward the spare bedroom. “I need to get ready for work.”

“That's right,” he says. “Do you have a lot of clients this off-season?”

I shrug. “A few,” I answer. “Definitely enough to cover me for the rest of the summer until the season starts back up again.”

During the off-season I take private clients, traveling to their houses and doing full body massages or specific muscle work, whatever the client needs. Some of them are athletes that need body work in the off-season, but most are people who found me by word of mouth. It’s an awesome gig and helps me pay the bills between seasons.

“Do you need me to pick up your table for you while you get ready?”

“No, I'm good, thanks,” I say. “But if you could drop me off at my place, I can get it and my car.”

“Of course,” he answers. “What if we run into Liam?”

“I don't care if we run into him.” I shake my head. “Especially since I'm in control of that situation. He can't leave me stranded because I'll never go anywhere with him again. And now that I don't have to worry about him keeping me up all night with his stupid antics, I can really just cut him out of my life in the way he deserves.”

Paxton crosses the distance between us, enveloping me in a hug, and I breathe so much easier inside of his arms. “All right,” he says, releasing me. “I’ll drop you off, but call me if you need anything. I'll have an extra set of keys made for you, but in the meantime just text me whenever you're coming home, and I'll make sure it's unlocked for you.”

Coming home.

The words clang through me, waking up something in my soul that feels a lot like hope.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for this,” I say.

“You'll never have to repay me,” he says. “This will be fun. Like in Rome. We practically destroyed that room with the shells we collected from the beach. I'm sure they're still getting sand out of the carpet.”

I laugh at the memory, warmth spreading through me. “One of my favorite summers,” I admit. “And with the way our parents just left us there to do whatever we wanted, you’re right, it was kind of like living together.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Now we're older and can have more fun.”

I can't stop the smile from shaping my lips as I look up at him. “Well, I'm glad you're excited about this,” I say. “We'll see if you still feel that way after you spend an entire week with me with no breaks.”

“Can't wait,” he says. “How long do you need before we head to your place?”

“An hour?” I ask instead of state the time. I’d like to take a long hot shower before I get my day officially started.

“Sounds good,” he says before moving past me and down the hallway, likely toward his in-home gym. It doesn't matter that it's off-season, Paxton won't let his workout routine slip.

And it takes all of the strength I possess to get ready for work instead of following him around like a lost puppy, grateful to have been rescued.