Shaking my head, I turn around and leave the room. Once in the hallway, my breathing returns back to normal slightly after having made a decision one way or the other. Finding the comfort of our old-ass couch in the family room, I click on the television and wait until the infomercials bore me enough to sleep.

“DEX,” I’M SHAKEN awake by Sam.

“Yeah,” I half coherently answer.

“I need you to take me to Jessa and Grant’s.” I pry one eye open and find an already made up Sam in front of me. Seriously, her make-up is already on and her hair done up. What the fuck time is it?

“What time is it?” I ask, and she laughs.

“Eleven,” she says. It’s Sunday, so I guess everyone is sleeping in. “Jessa’s coming home today.”

“Okay—give me a sec.” I sit up and place my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. Blinking a few times, I give an internal pep talk to get up. I stand up and dig in my pockets for my keys.

“You could have slept with me last night, I don’t bite,” she jokes, and I give her a little laugh to show her I heard it, but I know I made the right decision.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” I lie.

Her eyes focus on mine, and then she turns away. “Well, let’s go.” She walks into the kitchen, and I notice her bag is already placed by the back door. Being the gentleman, I pick it up and we leave the house.

We’re about three minutes from Jessa and Grant’s when Sam reaches over and turns down the music. “Who is she?” she asks.

A groan escapes my lips. Why does everyone think Chrissy and I are their business? “A friend.” I keep up my usual reference to Chrissy.

“Are you sure there isn’t something more?” she presses, and I bring the heel of my palm to my eye, wishing this conversation could end.

“I’m not sure,” I honestly answer because Sam and I have always been truthful. Our agreement was that if we were serious about someone else, this ended between us. I probably should have put an end to it when Chrissy returned and definitely yesterday when I picked Sam up. I pull along the curb and place the truck in park. The lift of my chest to finally admit to someone my feelings for Chrissy is liberating.

“That’s what I thought.” She unclicks her seatbelt and faces me. “You could have told me. I’d have understood.” She nicely lets me off the hook.

“I’m not quite sure it matters now. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Oh, Dex. Don’t apologize for falling in love with someone.” She places her hand on the door handle ready to flee the truck.

“No one said anything about love,” I remind her, and she smirks over to me and then steps down from truck. Before shutting the door, she leans in, bending over the seat.

“Nothing has to be said. Anyone can see it when the two of you are in the same space.” She shuts the door, and I sit there wondering what the fuck is wrong with people. First Rob, and now Sam. Chrissy and I have a deep friendship and maybe her return has caused some feelings to resurface. But I’m not sure we could ever cross the invisible line due to the fear it would ruin everything we have.

My mind drowns in doubt as I drive back to the house until my phone rings in the center console.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Hey, Edge. You available to come on over?” my dad asks, “I have some news.” “Come to the house, though.” He hangs up without an answer, and I place it back down, wishing I had showered before I left this morning.

Twenty minutes later, I’m circling around the driveway of my dad’s house. The place I spent two weekends out of a month. The place I spent the most time with Chrissy. Walking in, silence fills the living room. “Dad?” I scream.

“Out here, Edge,” he calls out from the patio, and I follow the path of discolored carpeting.

My dad sits outside with the newspaper in his hands, sports section of course. I wonder if he even toys with the thought of checking the front page for more important news. “Heard you won big last night.” He dips the corner of the newspaper down and arches his eyebrows, questioning why I didn’t share my tip with him.

“Sorry,” I mumble, “it was last minute.” The chair scraps along the concrete as I pull it out to join him.

“Next time, share with your dad,” he kids.

“Will do. So, what’s up?”

“I found Zeke. It’s bad.” He places the newspaper down on the table and grabs his coffee mug. “Man, you look like shit.”

Throwing my hands up in the air as though saying what-the-fuck, I shake my head in disbelief. Is it everyone against Dex day? “Thanks. Anyway, back to the topic. What do we do now?”

“Nothing,” he deadpans, and I wait for more, but he offers nothing.

“And?”

“Nothing. He can’t be saved, and Chrissy sure as hell doesn’t need him in her life.”

“Wait—”

“Edge, I know it sucks, but it’s the way it needs to be. She’s better off without him. Look what he’s done to her. She leaves town and then comes back, and the asshole puts up her body to pay a debt he can’t make good on.”

“Fucker,” I counter, sulking down in the chair. I can’t imagine being so alone in the world. I have my friends, my mom, my dad, Ted. All people that would rally around me if something happened. Who does Chrissy have? I wish I could hunt her dad down and beat the shit out of him for everything he’s put her through. But hell if he’d even care. If he gave two shits about her, he wouldn’t have been an asshole to her all her life.

“She has you … and me. Just because blood connects two people doesn’t mean they’re better for you than friends. That’s what’s so great about marriage. You can pick your family.” He shocks me actually supporting marriage.

“Should I tell her about her dad?”

“Absolutely not. You know Chrissy, Edge. She’ll want to fix it somehow, nurse him back. She’s done it long enough. I wish she would have never surfaced again.” His wish would have been my worst nightmare. I was out of my mind those summer months when she wouldn’t answer her phone. “Keep her as far away as you can from anywhere he might be.”

“Okay,” I agree.

Leaving ten minutes later, I drive around as my mind fills with thoughts of Chrissy and what I want compared to what she needs. Unfortunately, they don’t match. She needs my friendship instead of any half-hearted love. What kind of boyfriend would I be, anyway? What if I get her, only to fuck it up somehow? Remembering she has no one else besides me in her life sobers me. At least no one that cares about her close to the amount I do.

When my truck tires hit the asphalt of our driveway, my mind is made up. I’ll continue to be her friend and never cross the line. In order to do that, though, girls coming back to the house are off limits as well. If Rob’s right and she does want more from me, those actions will only hurt her.

I’m disrupted from my thoughts to find Brady, Sadie and Chrissy shuffling food containers to and from the house. Peering through my windshield, Chrissy exits with a tray as if I had conjured her up. Stopping for a second to reposition her hands, she blows a stream of air from her mouth to move the lose strand of hair from her face. Her long, lean legs look longer if it’s possible, and her shirt contours to the curves of her body. She smiles, handing the tray to Brady, who positions it in the trunk. When she looks up, she sees me staring and maintains eye contact with me. Her lust, hurt, love, and disappointment revealed from that one lone stare. She breaks the eye lock, and I shuffle out of the truck to help.

“What’s all the food for?” I ask Brady, and he stands up, peering over to me. Showing his own apparent displeasure with me, or my actions. Same difference.

“Grant’s. Bar-B-Que. Sam didn’t tell you?” He crosses his arms across his chest and leans against his car.