Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, it was pretty innocent. We sat on the bed and talked a lot, watched television and ragged on each other for our likes and dislikes. When I told him that I'd seen My Girl about a million times, he'd rolled his eyes so far back I was worried those pretty irises would stay there. When he told me he’d seen all of the Transformers movies in person at least six times, and even sat in line for twenty-four hours to catch the first showing of one, I stared at him blankly.

The thing that killed me the most about our friendship was that the more I learned about Sacha, the more I liked him. I liked that he volunteered at a pet shelter, that he knew how to play four different instruments, and that he had a pet turtle named Mercury that Julian’s brother babysat when he was on tour. I thought it was amazing that he worked at a studio as a session pianist and back-up singer when he was home. The bastard was sweet and thoughtful, and he laughed at my jokes and my embarrassing stories.

This huge, blinding forest fire of happiness filled my chest when I was around him. While it should have been a beautiful thing that I liked him as much as I did, it wasn't. I had no idea where things stood between us. We were definitely friends; that was blatantly obvious. I loved spending time with him because he had this way about him that always put me in a good mood but…

I wasn’t sure whether there was actually something more. Our joking could be considered flirting. He spent more time with me than he did with anyone else by multiples. When we were at the venues and he wasn't busy, he'd began coming to visit the merch table even if he had to wear a hoodie to avoid getting mobbed by fans.

This, us, was so complicated.

I didn't want to assume anything, so I didn't. After all, he'd mentioned Ronalda as his ex, but I couldn't help but remember that conversation that I'd overheard. Then there was his comment when we’d been in the car back in Philadelphia about how he’d told her something about it not being the right time to talk about whatever. Was there something else that could possibly be going on? I had no fucking idea, and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I skipped to my room and showered as quickly as possible so I could be ready for my nightly visitor. Was it a little desperate? Maybe. But I didn't care. It wasn’t like anyone saw me.

The knock on my door came just a couple minutes after I finished smothering lotion all over my skin. "What's the password?" I asked walking toward the door.

"Gaby is the princess of the universe."

I snorted. My hands paused on the deadbolt as I smiled to myself. "Anddddd…?" I asked, just to be a pest. Like what he said wasn’t enough.

There was a pause. "I have cookies."

"Bingo!" I unlocked the bolt and didn't even bother ushering Sacha in. He did his usual routine, kicking off shoes, peeling off his hoodie and plopping onto his side of the bed.

He tossed over a packet of cookies he had more than likely bought at the vending machine. "Save me half of one," he requested sweetly, wiggling his butt onto the mattress to try and get comfortable.

I nodded at him, already tearing the package open before jumping on the other side of the bed. I had to crawl with the cookies in my mouth over to a spot right by his chest, where I crossed my legs. He looked over and patted a spot slightly closer to him. “Come keep me warm.”

He could have put a jacket on, but I didn’t remind him of that.

The small part of my brain that still hadn’t recognized he was my friend and only my friend, wanted to say that if he wanted to, he could crawl under the sheets, but only someone with an IQ of 20 would say that to him.