For the Love of Friends(79)

“I still might do it myself in a couple weeks. What does Tim see in him?”

“He’s—he’s fun in that bro way. Until he’s telling everyone he’s going to sleep with your best friend.”

I leaned back, surprised. “I’m your best friend?”

He looked at me carefully with an expression I hadn’t seen before. “Well. Yeah. I think you kind of are now.”

I didn’t respond immediately. Megan had been my official best friend since second grade, of course. Caryn, as much as I didn’t like her at the moment, had the title of “work best friend.” But Megan had been pretty MIA lately. And her requirement that I stay away from Tim’s friends romantically rankled me. No, I wasn’t demoting her, or Caryn for that matter, but maybe—maybe Alex had grown into a different type of best friend. I hadn’t even sent Megan a picture of my ridiculous bridesmaid getup. Or texted her all evening. And she wouldn’t have dropped everything to come help me with Amy.

I realized I hadn’t replied and needed to say something. “I—I hadn’t put a label on it. But yeah, I think you’re one of my best friends too.”

His shoulders loosened in relief. “Are we supposed to get those matching heart necklaces now? My sister always got those.”

“Tattoos,” I said sagely. “That’s how millennials say ‘I love you.’”

He started to say something, but stopped himself and took another sip of his beer. “I think they’re getting ready to close up.” He put some money down on the bar. “I’ll take you home.”

“Your place is closer. We can just share an Uber there, and I’ll take it the rest of the way.” He gave me a look. “Fine, I won’t argue.”

“That’s a first,” he said.

I nudged him with my shoulder. “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m a lawyer. I get paid to argue.”

“Calm down there, Atticus Finch. You get paid to help people copyright stuff.”

“Oh good, you are feeling okay.”

“Smart-ass.” He cocked his head toward the exit and I nodded. He held the door for me, and we waited under the hotel’s awning for the Uber to arrive as a cool mist began to dampen the pavement.



“Thank you for coming tonight,” I said as the Uber driver pulled up to my apartment building. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yes, you could have. You’re much less of a mess than you think.”

I huffed good-naturedly. “Who says I’m a mess?” He started to answer, but I cut him off. “Don’t. Even I can’t say that with a straight face.”

“I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t need to, it’s right here. And I’m not drunk.”

“I know, but I want to.”

I shrugged, and he told the Uber driver he would be right back.

We walked the few feet to the door. “Safe and sound,” I said.

“I know. I just needed to work up my nerve.”

“Your nerve? To do what?”

“This,” he said, leaning in and kissing me.

Deep down, I think I had known how I felt ever since Megan’s housewarming party. Somewhere, buried beneath layers and layers of denial and scar tissue from the wound I had created with David and my own hardheaded sense of self-preservation, I knew that Alex was more than a friend. Because that feeling didn’t just magically appear when he kissed me. It was more like it had been there since the beginning and had finally broken free.

And because it had always been there, it didn’t take long for me to get over my surprise and kiss him back. Hungrily. Greedily. Like he was the oxygen I needed to survive, because right then, he was.

He pulled back slightly—it must have been him, because I know it wasn’t me—and smiled, touching a finger to my cheek so gently that it sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

I opened my mouth to tell him to come upstairs. To get rid of the Uber driver and be mine. But Megan’s words came back to me. And while I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which I would stop liking Alex, there were a million where he stopped liking me. Like when he inevitably found out about Justin—which would probably happen at the wedding. I can’t deal with that drama at my wedding, Megan had said. But it wasn’t just her comment—I had ruined this one before it even began. And while I wasn’t exactly in the running to be named bridesmaid of the year, I had one thing within my control: I could avoid sleeping with a second groomsman in my best friend’s wedding.

“I can’t,” I said, my face contorting from the pain of admitting that. “I—I want to, but I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Alex said, taking my hands. “Lily, there’s nothing keeping us apart. I know Megan didn’t like it when she thought we were just sleeping together, but she’d get over it if we were serious.”

I shook my head and pulled my hands away, starting to cry. “I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t do this.”

Alex was saying my name, but I had to get away. I dug in my purse until I found my key fob and waved it blindly at the locking mechanism to open the door. I ran past him into the building, half praying he would follow me, half praying he wouldn’t. I turned, just in time to get a glimpse of his bewildered and hurt face as the door closed behind me, then I sank down on the tattered sofa in the lobby and cried until I had no tears left.