Page 114 of The Billionaires' Gamble

“What I want could ruin everything, and I’m no longer willing to risk it,” I fire back.

“It?”

“Our friendship, Alex. I missed you these last few days. I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”

“I feel the same way.”

I scoff and shake my head. “No, you don’t.”

“You don’t think I’ve missed you? That our fight didn’t shred me? Fuck, Gabe. I’ve been sitting here wondering if you’re buying this place”—he throws up his hands, swirling a fingertip at the ceiling—“to move Katherine and Kingston in and start a happy little family. Will there still be a place for me?”

Alarm explodes through my gut. “Of course there’s a place for you here. What the hell, man?”

His chin dips toward that massive chest, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know.”

The alarm turns to frustration. My mind races in three hundred and sixty different directions, yet all the thoughts circle back to one thing: I should walk away before I say something I’ll regret. The words just don’t seem to make sense today. Emotions fire between us like cannons, the iron balls bouncing all around.

“Let’s take a breather, okay?” I say, wanting some time to think this through. I’m not sure he knows what he wants, and I’m not about to ask for something he’s not ready for.

The soft vulnerability drips right off him and puddles on the floor. After a nod, his chin lifts, shoulders tug down and back, and my tall, strong, frustratingly stoic best friend is back. Those moments where he showed me a different side of himself disappear like they never were.

And now I’m split in two.

He’s not mad about it. Not disappointed. Nothing. Just resigned.

Back in his space as my best friend. Always there. Always.

My insides feel like they’re caving in on themselves. I want to run and hide, and, at the same time, I want to grab him and shake him.

Or kiss him.