“Wherever the fuck you wanted.”

I shift, my body heating up from the thought of being able to explore his glorious body. Tracing my fingers over each muscle, each divot and perfectly sculpted part of his body, of every inked inch of his skin. My mind then falls to the idea of peeling his briefs down, exposing his cock, running my finger over the head, and then curving down the underside to his balls . . .

“Hell, Kinny, what are you thinking about?”

My eyes flash to him as my face heats up. “It’s too embarrassing.”

“Tell me.”

I shake my head. “No way, I still don’t know what any of this is. What this means. Is this a fling to you? An itch you needed to scratch?”

His brows narrow. “Are you serious? Do you really think I’d risk our friendship, the single most important thing in my life, for a fling?”

“Well . . . no, but, our friendship is kind of at risk.”

“Which is why I’ve battled with what to do for a while. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to even tempt fate, but I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Every time you walk in a room, Kinsley, I need to touch you somehow. I realized pretty quickly that the feeling wasn’t simply friendship, it was more. I want more with you. I feel it deep in my soul that we’re supposed to be more than just friends, that you’re in my life for a bigger reason. I’ve been fighting with that reason, hoping it wasn’t the need pulsing through me every time I thought of you, but no matter how hard I tried to ignore the obvious, I couldn’t. These feelings aren’t going away, and I don’t want them to. I want you to be with me.”

“I . . . I . . .” Hell, I’ve never had a romantic interest talk to me like this before. So open, so honest. But I shouldn’t expect anything less from Maddox. It’s how he was created. “I don’t know what to say.” I look away and try to gather my words. “I’m scared, Maddox.”

“Scared in a good way or bad way? Because I’m scared too, babe. I’m terrified of the way I feel for you. It’s so strong. It feels like I can actually taste my need for you.”

Gaining the courage I need, I look at him again and say, “I feel the same way. Like if I don’t see you in the morning, walking around in your boxer briefs, I might pass out from anticipation. If I don’t hold your hand at least once in a day, my day isn’t complete. If I don’t hear you tell me good night, I can’t get any sleep. With each day, I’ve become more and more dependent on our connection, of having you near me. And that’s what’s terrifying, because what if you realize you don’t want me to be around me anymore?”

“That’s never going to happen,” he says with conviction. “Look at me.” My eyes snap up to him as he slowly repeats, “That’s never going to happen.”

I nod but don’t answer right away. He says it’s never going to happen, but after one night of holding my hand, another of holding me close to his whole body, something changed and he didn’t touch me at all. I wouldn’t recover if he shut me out after we were in a relationship. But I can’t say that to him. I don’t know how. I study the sleekness of my phone, the eco-friendly, biodegradable phone case I purchased from an Instagram ad, never focusing on the face in the screen. This all seems too much, unreal, like a dream. Maddox wants more with me, an actual relationship. I never considered a romantic relationship with my best friend as an option, but slowly the thought of one has crept up on me.

The fantasies I had about him are shameful.

The staring I partook in, embarrassing.

The love I fell in, unstoppable.

And now that he’s telling me he feels the same way, it all feels like too much, like my life is about to explode and I’m going to lose everything.

“Kinsley, look at me.”

Another tear slips past my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away before I look at him. He’s sitting up, so intently focused on me that it feels like he’s sitting across from me rather than in another state.

“Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours. I can see you thinking, processing. I want to be a part of it. Talk out loud. I don’t want you shrinking in on yourself and in return, shutting me out.”

Giving myself something to do while I voice my concerns, I pet Herman, stroke his long ear, focus on the soft feel of his fur.

“It feels like too much. These feelings I have, the reality that I could actually act on them, it doesn’t feel right.” I wet the corner of my lip that feels so dry. “Like at any minute, things are about to combust and explode, leaving me with nothing but a broken heart.”

“Kinny, babe, that’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” I reply quickly, with such fear in my voice that I feel it vibrate through my chest. This is totally unbelievable. Overwhelming. “You have no idea what the future holds. This could all blow up and—”

“Or it could be the greatest thing to ever happen to you, to us. This relationship between us, this connection . . . it’s meant to be. I think we could grow it into something life-changing, but we need to give it a chance. Don’t give up before you even get started, because you could be giving up on your future.” I look away, tears streaming down my face from the emotions clogging my mind. “Kinsley.” I look back at him. “I love you.”

I nod. “I love you, too.”

“Then take a deep breath.” He waits for me and when I have my tears wiped away, I take a shaky breath. “Another one.” I repeat the breath. “Again.” I keep indulging in deep breaths until he finally says, “How’s Herman?”

I laugh and snot bubbles out of my nose. It’s the least attractive thing I could possibly do at this moment, but I’m pretty sure Maddox has seen worse when it comes to me.

“He’s moving in on your territory.”

Maddox smiles as he leans back against his hotel bed. “Tell the old man he can have you for now, but when I get home, he better step aside.”

“You might have to fight him for me.”

“I’d fight anything, anybody if it means I get to have you.”

My heart tightens, his words weirdly not taking me by surprise but instead making me feel comforted.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

“I would be much better if you were actually here.”

“Tell me about it.” He huffs out in frustration. “But hey, at least I can see your beautiful face. I’m happy with just talking, staring.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Have you . . .” I pause, feeling like a teenager asking this question. But I’m curious. “Have you always had these feelings for me?”

He doesn’t answer right away but plays with the strands of his hair as he considers his next words. “I think I have, but I never allowed myself to acknowledge them, if that makes sense.”

“It does, because I’m thinking I’m the same way. I was thinking yesterday about how troublesome it was, being around you but not being able to actually feel you the way I want—”

“And how’s that?”

“Skin on skin,” I answer shyly. “Not just sex, because that feels more carnal to me. What I want to do with you, but on an intimate level, is feel your skin against mine. I want to know what it’s like to have you hold me through the night, not one barrier between us. I want to be able to sit on your lap and not worry if I’m crossing a line but allowed to enjoy you instead.”

“Same, babe. Fucking same. I’m dying to get you naked, not just to bury myself between your legs in every fucking way possible, because I want to know how our bodies imprint on each other. I want to feel the slight swell of your hips without pants blocking the silky slope of your skin. I want to explore your curves, the intricate muscles that line your spine, play with your back dimples, and run my fingers over them. I want to slide my hand down your leg and then back up, spending time memorizing each curve and divot. And your tits, fuck, I want to worship them. Not just to turn you on, but to learn them. I want to draw you, naked, so fucking bad. I can see it in my mind, but I’ve never been able to translate it through paper—”

“You draw me?”

He pauses and then chuckles, pulling his hand down his face. “Kinsley, you see the notebook on the coffee table?” I glance down at the wood surface and spot one of his sketchbooks under a magazine—a magazine that he’s on the cover of. “Look through it.”