Chapter 1

Alex Carter, my childhood best friend, had just been confessed to by one of his buddies.

Hours had passed, and he still couldn't shake it off.

Alex shuddered. "I thought we were bros, and he's out here catching feelings for me? That's insane!"

He shuddered and added, "Two guys dating? Don't you think that's gross?"

I didn't dare tell him the truth. Every dream I'd had since I turned eighteen, every single one, had been about him.

*****

I was there when Alex got confessed to.

The guy's eyes went red when Alex turned him down, and he lunged forward, grabbing Alex by the neck and trying to force a kiss.

Alex couldn't hold it together anymore. He shoved the guy to the ground, and the disgust in his eyes was impossible to hide.

The moment we got home, Alex blocked and deleted every single one of the guy's contacts.

I couldn't help asking, "Weren't you two close? You're really cutting him off?"

He was still shaken, and the goosebumps on his arms hadn't faded.

Alex blurted out, "Of course I am. I treated him like a brother, and he had feelings for me this whole time? That's insane."

He shuddered and added, "Two guys dating? Don't you think that's gross?"

I didn't say a word.

I forced down a couple of bites, but after that, I couldn't eat anymore.

Alex's face changed right away, and he reached over to press the back of his hand against my forehead.

He frowned and asked, "How come you barely touched your plate? You feeling okay?"

I shook my head and told him I didn't sleep well last night.

Alex took my plate without a second thought and scooped up a bite with a fork, holding it right up to my lips. Then he softened his voice the way he always did, like he was coaxing a little kid.

He smiled and said, "Come on, just a couple more bites. I'll grab you a cupcake on the way home tonight."

I had told him a million times that I was grown up and didn't need to be babied like this, but Alex could never break the habit.

After dinner, I went back to my room early.

I wanted some time alone to sort through the mess in my head, but the very next second, Alex followed me right in.

I turned around and asked, "What are you doing?"

He looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world and said, "What do you think? I'm sleeping here with you."

Before I could respond, he wrapped his arm around my waist and lay down beside me like it was nothing.

The apartment we lived in belonged to Alex.

After I graduated from college and landed a job, he flat-out refused to let me stay in the company dorms.

He said I was too picky and too much of a neat freak to survive living with a bunch of sweaty guys.

And before I could even argue, he went ahead and bought this place outright in one of the best neighborhoods near my office.

The apartment had two bedrooms, but Alex never slept in his. Every single night, he ended up in mine, squeezing into bed with me.

I used to let it slide, but ever since he said those words, I couldn't look at him without feeling a knot of guilt in my chest.

So I pushed his shoulder gently and said, "Go sleep in your own room."

He didn't budge. He just looked at me and asked, "Why would I? You're right here."

The thing about Alex was that he kept everyone else at arm's length.

He was cold and distant toward others, and he always knew exactly where the line was.

But with me, he never held back.

He had no problem sharing a bed with me or eating off the same plate, and things like holding hands or hugging were just part of our daily routine.

That was exactly why I thought he might feel the same way about me.

But before I could ever confess, reality hit me like a truck.

Alex was deeply homophobic.

If he ever found out how I really felt about him, we wouldn't even be friends anymore.