The Friend Zone

by Abby Jimenez

  Every morning he’d patrol the yard for evidence of my creeper. It was seriously fucking hot. Then he’d make us eggs and we’d sit at the kitchen table talking until he had to get to work.

  He had just come back over for another two-day stretch. I sat on the steps of the garage talking to him. I wore a tie-dyed shirt I’d made at summer camp, like, nine years ago with Sloan. I also wore the matching scrunchie. I’d been digging deep to maintain my homeless-chic wardrobe. It was becoming more and more necessary.

  I liked him. I liked him a lot.

  He was fun. When he left for his two-day shift, I missed him. Big-time.

  This wasn’t good. I needed Tyler to come home.

  Josh was telling me about a call he went on, and I zoned out watching him carve an ornate design into the side of a step. I loved that he worked with his hands. It was beyond sexy. I wondered how those hands would feel on my bare skin. Strong and rough.

  I thought about that stupid piggyback ride so much you’d think it was foreplay. The press of those back muscles and the warmth of his skin against my breasts. The way he smelled. How easily he’d lifted me. I bet he could do push-ups with me sitting on his back. Then I imagined him doing push-ups over me while I lay on a bed under him.

  God. I’m going straight to hell.

  I stuck a finger in a tiny hole at the waist of my shirt and made a tear.

  Tyler called. Coincidence? Or did he feel the threat from halfway around the world?

  “I gotta take this,” I said.

  The phone call was like an emergency broadcast test breaking into one of my favorite shows. I’d sit through it because I had to, waiting impatiently for it to be over so I could go back to watching what I was before the interruption.

  It sucked that I felt that way.

  I liked talking to Tyler. I just didn’t like talking to Tyler when it meant it took away from talking to Josh. I knew this was wrong. I knew it was unhealthy. And I also couldn’t stop myself from feeling this way.

  I hit the Answer Call button and got up and went out to the sweltering sunbaked driveway, out of earshot. “Hey, babe.”

  “Hi, Kris. What are you doing?”

  “Hanging out with Josh in the garage. What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready to see you. Eight days.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  Yes. Eight days. Then it would be the Tyler Show I was watching.

  “I know. I can’t wait,” I said, forcing enthusiasm. I studied a crack in the driveway and rolled my foot over a dandelion growing from the crevice, smooshing it onto the concrete, bleeding yellow and green.

  “Have the cops gotten back to you? Any updates?”

  Once the danger had been neutralized by Josh’s presence in my guest room, I came clean to Tyler about the attempted break-in. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”

  “And Josh is keeping his hands to himself?” he asked.

  I gazed into the garage and Josh’s eyes flickered away from me like he’d been watching.

  I wondered if Josh ever thought of me the way I thought of him, or if my attempts to turn him off were successful. He seemed to enjoy my company, but he never crossed any lines with me. That was a good thing. Because if he ever did, I’d have to make him leave. Permanently.

  “Josh is very well behaved,” I said, telling the truth. “I mean, I wouldn’t have even agreed to this if he wasn’t Brandon’s best friend. He was prescreened.” All true.

  I left out the part that I had a major crush on him and was enjoying my time with him more than I should.

  “What does that guy look like anyway?” Tyler asked.

  “Josh? Hot fireman.” No point in lying to him. He’d see for himself soon enough. And Tyler was never shocked by my bluntness.

  “Not hotter than me, I hope.” He was giving me that cocky grin of his right through the phone. The guy knew he was gorgeous. He didn’t sound particularly worried.

  “It’s kind of a crapshoot, actually. The two of you would really rake it in at one of those ‘save the children’ fund-raisers where the guys get auctioned off.”

  I’d go broke at that fund-raiser. For the kids, of course.

  He laughed. “Well, tell him I appreciate him looking out for you until I get home.”

  “I will. So what’s going on over there?” I wanted to change the subject away from Josh.

  “Oh, I’ve got a story for you, actually.”

  I arched an eyebrow. Tyler’s stories were great. “Montgomery?”

  “Hansen,” he said.

  He had two buddies over there, Montgomery and Hansen, who never failed to produce good stories.

  “Hansen just got back from leave. You won’t believe what this guy did.”

  “Tell me,” I said.

  He launched into an animated story about Hansen’s exploits and I smiled, remembering why Tyler and I were able to make a two-year long-distance relationship work. He was great on the phone. I breathed a sigh of relief that I felt drawn in again and wasn’t impatient to hang up and get back to Josh.

  “He’s got three squad cars and a Bentley parked in front of his house at three in the morning,” he said.

  “Fucking Hansen.”

  “I know. He had pictures of the whole thing.” I could imagine him shaking his head, those piercing green eyes laughing. “The guy kills me.” He chuckled.

  I sighed. “What are you gonna do when you’re not hanging out with these guys anymore?” Both Hansen and Montgomery had reenlisted.

  He went quiet for a beat too long. “We’ll stay in touch. I’m not worried about it.” But something in his tone had flattened. “Hey, I was thinking we could take a trip to Spain when I get back. I’d love to show you where I lived when I was a kid.”

  We talked for a few minutes about Spain. Then the phone muffled, like he was talking to someone else. “Kris, I need to get going. I’ll give you a call in a few days.”

  “Tyler?”

  “What’s up?”

  I shot a look at Josh. “I really need you to come home. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Kris. Talk to you in a few days.”

  We hung up and I stood in the driveway for a moment, looking in at Josh.

  I did miss Tyler. The thing was, even though I missed him, I couldn’t really remember him.

  Tyler dimmed for me during these separations. It was like a dying fire. But it always blazed back up the second he was with me again. And I knew at least some of what I was feeling for Josh was because what I felt for Tyler had become fuzzy and hard to recall over so many miles and so much time.

  Josh was present and clear. Of course he felt more distracting to me. Right? Tyler was a season I hadn’t seen in eight months, and Josh was brighter than the sun at the moment. That’s all it was. It wasn’t that Josh was anything special. How could he be?

  Josh and I had a divide between us so large we might as well be a different species. He wanted an enormous family, and I…

  I just needed Tyler to come home. That’s it. I needed him to come back into my life and blot out the sun.

  I needed an eclipse.

  Josh looked over at me and gave me his stunning, dimpled smile, and I felt my disloyal heart reach out for him.

  Yes, I needed an eclipse.

  But then I’d just be in the dark, wouldn’t I?

  ELEVEN

  Josh

  Kristen and I never touched. Not since the piggyback ride almost two weeks ago.

  I wanted to touch her. Hell, I thought about it almost constantly. But her boundaries were well laid. She never sat too close. I never caught her looking at me. She never gave me even the smallest indication she was interested.

  And why would she? She had Tyler.

  The second day I’d stayed the night, he’d called, and I heard her tell him the entire situation about the prowler and me staying in the guest room. She was honest with him. He didn’t seem to get upset.

  He trusted her.

  He had every ri
ght to, at least as far as I was concerned. I clearly wasn’t a threat.

  How had I gotten myself into this? Falling for an unavailable woman. And that’s exactly what I’d done in the last two weeks. I’d fallen.

  I’d fucked up. I was going to pay for this when her boyfriend came back and it all ended. I should have been more careful, spent less time with her, said no sometimes when she wanted to hang out. I should have gone on dates, looked at other options.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  Even as I felt myself tumbling down this rabbit hole, I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even fucking want to.

  Today she’d taken off for a hair appointment at 10:00 in the morning and hadn’t been home all day. We had Sloan and Brandon’s wedding invitation thing later tonight.

  It was boring without her here. She’d left Stuntman Mike, wearing his DOGFATHER shirt, and he’d become my work buddy. He mostly slept, but once in a while he’d jump up barking at phantom sounds. It kept things interesting.

  At 5:00, Kristen still wasn’t home when I got in the shower in the guest bathroom to start getting ready for the party. But when I came out, dressed and ready to go, my breath caught the second I rounded the corner. She sat at the kitchen counter, looking at her phone.

  She was a fucking knockout.

  She’d been pretty before, even under her baggy T-shirts and sweatpants. But now? Dressed up? My God, she was sexy as hell.

  She wore a black fitted cocktail dress and red heels. Her hair was down and curled and she had her makeup on. Bright-red lipstick.

  When she glanced up, I tried to act like I hadn’t been frozen in the doorway.

  “Oh, hey. Will you zip me up?” she asked, sliding off the stool still texting. She didn’t even give me a second look.

  I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

  She turned and gave me her back, still looking at her screen. The zipper to her dress was all the way down and the lacy top of a light-blue G-string peeked out. Her perfume reached my nose, and I could almost taste the tart apples on my tongue.

  Fuck. This is torture.

  I pulled the zipper up, my eyes trailing the line of her spine. No bra. She was small on top. Perky. She didn’t need one. I stopped to move her hair and my fingers touched her neck as I gathered it to one side. I had the most incredible urge to put my lips to the spot behind her ear, slip my hands into the sides of her dress, around her waist, peeling it off her.

  She has a boyfriend. She’s not interested.

  I finished the job, dragging the zipper to the top. She’d looked at her phone the whole time, totally unaffected.

  Kristen wasn’t shy or conservative. That much I’d seen over the last few weeks. She probably didn’t even think twice about any of this. But I practically panted. I was getting a hard-on just standing there. I hoped she didn’t look down.

  She turned. “Okay, I got an Uber. He’ll be here in five minutes.” She looked up at me full-on for the first time since I’d come into the room. “You look nice.”

  I stared at her. “Thanks. You too.”

  My heart pounded so hard I thought she might be able to see it through my shirt. The tips of my fingers buzzed with the memory of touching her skin.

  Stuntman Mike strutted over to me and plopped at my feet. I reached down and scooped him up, happy to have something to distract me. “Hey, little guy.”

  Kristen beamed, dazzling bright-red lips over perfect, straight teeth. “God, he really likes you. I just can’t get over it.”

  “Yeah, we hung out all day today.” I kissed the top of his head. I liked him, but this was for her. I loved the way her eyes always sparkled when I was affectionate with her dog. I pressed him to my cheek, and she melted.

  She sighed. “He doesn’t like anyone. He hates Tyler.”

  Yeah. I get that. Because I’m starting to hate Tyler a little myself.

  TWELVE

  Kristen

  The party was at Luigi’s, under the stars. We had the entire outdoor patio of Sloan and Brandon’s favorite Italian restaurant for our night of activities. First we’d do dinner followed by a few hours of stuffing wedding invites into envelopes and putting together the favors—a hundred and fifty small jasmine-scented votive candles. Each one needed a label, a box, tissue paper, a hangtag, and a ribbon.

  The caprese salad, chicken marsala, and penne pasta were served buffet style beneath a white lattice dripping with grapevines and fairy lights. Frank Sinatra crooned over the speakers.

  The whole thing was so Sloan. She was doing her Pinterest obsession proud.

  We were all seated at a long wooden farm table with fresh flowers and flickering votive candles every few feet. Sloan and Brandon’s mom and his sister, Claudia, took the end of the table. Sloan’s cousin Hannah got stuck next to Shawn, where he’d probably hit on her the whole night. Josh sat by Brandon, and I ended up next to Sloan, across from the two of them.

  It was a perfect March night. The air was fragrant and warm.

  And the spot on my neck where Josh’s fingers touched me—that was still warm too.

  God, he looked incredible tonight. It took everything in me not to stare at him. The second I saw him, I think an entire ovary detached and floated down into my useless uterus to wait.

  I was done lying to myself. Over the last week I’d come to terms with the fact that I was more attracted to Josh than I was to Tyler. By a landslide. By a tsunami. And that was saying a lot because Tyler and I didn’t exactly lack chemistry.

  And it wasn’t just Josh’s body. It was him. There wasn’t anything about him I didn’t like. I wished there were.

  He was easygoing and funny. My moods didn’t scare him. He just kind of shrugged them off. He was down for anything. We hated all the same stuff—artsy indie movies with endings that didn’t have any closure, pineapple on pizza, daylight savings time. Sometimes he said something right as I was going to say it, like our brains worked on the same wavelength.

  Every day I searched for some fatal flaw so I could stop having these feelings. Sometimes I purposely grilled him on things, just to see if his answers would irritate me.

  It never worked.

  I felt good today. I wasn’t cramping or bleeding for once. My nineteen-day period was finally gone, and I’d spent the afternoon getting waxed and polished at the salon. I did it because I knew I was going to this thing with Josh tonight. I was supposed to be dressed up, and for once looking half-decent wouldn’t betray my feelings for him. I wanted him to think I was beautiful, just one time.

  Even if I was just teasing him, just to see if I could.

  Josh and Brandon were deep in conversation across the table, going on about duck hunting, and Sloan leaned in and whispered over her tiramisu. “Josh has been looking at you all night.”

  I picked up my sangria and took a sip. As if he intended to prove her claims, Josh glanced at me and smiled.

  If I was a woman who blushed, I would have.

  I hadn’t talked to Tyler in days. He’d called yesterday and I didn’t answer because I was watching Casino with Josh and didn’t want to stop hanging out with him to talk to the man I should be talking to.

  It was shameful.

  But I only had two more days until Tyler came home. That was it. And then Josh would vanish back into the garage. An imaginary clock had been ticking in my mind for days, and I was panicking again that Tyler was moving in. Only this time it had more to do with losing Josh than worrying Tyler and I wouldn’t work out.

  I nudged Sloan. “Bathroom.” I slid my chair out and set down my wineglass. Sloan got up and followed, the red petticoat swishing under her polka-dot dress.

  Once in the safety of the ladies’ room, she cornered me in front of the sink, grinning. “That guy is so into you.”

  Her pause dared me to deny it. Maybe he was a little into me. It didn’t matter though.

  Unchallenged, she went on, her eyes twinkling. “And you know what else? Brandon won’t talk about it. You know wh
at that means? It means Josh is saying stuff to him that he doesn’t want to tell me.” She looked positively thrilled at this bit of information.

  I couldn’t look her in the eye. I stared at the colorful collection of tattoos on her arm. “I like him, Sloan. Like, a lot. I haven’t felt this way in a really long time.” Maybe ever. I glanced back to her.

  She broke into one of her dazzling beauty-queen smiles. “Are you going to break up with Tyler?”

  And there it was.

  I shook my head. “No. Josh and I are never going to be a thing.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “Why not? It would be awesome. Me and Brandon, you and Josh. The Ramirezes and Copelands could buy houses next door to each other, raise our kids together…”

  I scoffed. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

  As if I hadn’t thought about how easy it would be. How perfect. But it was impossible because I was no different than his last girlfriend.

  I needed to tell her. I couldn’t keep this from her anymore. Not now that Josh played into it.

  I should have told her weeks ago, but Sloan couldn’t compartmentalize like I could. It would upset her. I mean, it upset me too, but I was able to accept it as one of the shitty things that happens in life that you can’t change, and go on with my day. But I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t be with Josh without coming clean. And I really needed to be able to talk to her about this.

  “Sloan, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Her beautiful expression fell. She knew my tone. She knew this was bad.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “You know I’ve had to give up a lot because of my periods.”

  She knew. We’d been friends since the sixth grade. She was well aware of my three-week-long menstruation nightmares. I got an ulcer junior year from taking too much ibuprofen for the pain. I’d missed prom because my cramps were so bad I couldn’t even stand up. She’d driven me to the ER more times than I could count.