“You should have heard Grant when the doctor told him six weeks with no sex.” Jessa giggles, holding her daughter close to her body.

“Are you sure that wasn’t you crying?” Sam jokes, and Jessa throws a death glare only sisters cannot be offended by.

“I’m not a nympho like you,” Jessa teases back, and Sam shrugs her shoulders.

“You’re missing out.” Sam’s indifference makes me wonder why she’s with Dex to begin with. “I mean guys like Dex—” She stops and the table silences. Trying to appear unfazed, I smile through the constriction in my chest.

“Grant asked the doctor if it was a suggestion or a necessity.” Jessa tries to veer the conversation back to her and Grant.

It reminds me again, one isn’t the same as the others. It’s me, so I excuse myself from the table. Walking through the house, I bypass the kitchen where Jessa’s parents are busying themselves with the food. Through the living room and out the front door, taking a seat on the front step. Staring out to the street, I admire where Jessa and Grant picked to raise their daughter. Well-kept houses with parents outside with their kids, tossing balls and riding bikes. The same I wish for my own future: to be a mom, who shuttles her kids to and from an array of activities, until my husband comes home, and we eat dinner together at the table. Ending the day with a bedtime story. I guess it’s the classic dream every girl imagines from an early age.

The screen door closes, and I peer up to Sam. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she asks, and I scoot over, silently permitting her. “Can we talk?”

Unconsciously, my legs pull up against myself. It’s been a defense mechanism for so long. As if I can protect my body from the hurtful things people spout.

She stares out to the streets I was admiring moments ago. “This is awkward,” she starts. “I didn’t know who you were … I never would have.”

I place my hand on her arm. “Sam, I’m not with Dex,” I inform her. “We’re only friends.”

“I think you’re wrong, Chrissy. I’ve been a part of Dex’s life for a few months, and he’s never mentioned you.” She stabs me right in the heart. Noticing my despair, she quickly tries to change her words. “But,” she bends down to meet my eyes, “he’s never, ever looked at me the same way he does you. When your eyes meet, whether it’s two feet or twenty yards, no one else is around.”

Every vibe I’ve gotten this past week says she’s right. Something shifted between Dex and me, and I’m not sure how long I can claim ignorance to it. “Thank you, Sam.” I decide on not doubting her words but thanking her for them instead.

“I’m not sure this will make it better or worse but you deserve to know. Dex and I have only ever been—sexual.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

“I mean … there’s no feelings there.” She stands up, and a relief she’s leaving me alone is all I feel in the moment.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome.” I wait to hear her shut the screen door before I relax my legs, stretching them out.

Contemplating my own life decisions in my head, I stay out there for close to a half hour. Not sure what Dex prefers me to do, but the last thing I want is to throw myself at him. Anger starts slowly wrapping around me like layers of Saran Wrap. Anger that he watches my every move, his eyes finding me from across the room in every instance. The intense stares and pinning glances packed with so many emotions you’d need a wheel barrel to haul them away. If he wants me, why won’t he confess? Or why would he screw Sam last night? I need to embrace this time in my life. Save the money, get my own place, and secure myself a future.

When the screen opens again, I deny the drive to turn around and scream at whoever it is. Then the large pair of sandals rest on the ground to my right, and I can’t help but look up, finding my favorite set of blue eyes.

“We’re leaving,” he says, venturing down the sidewalk. Not about to follow his commands, he peeks over his shoulder. “I said we.” I stay seated. “Please,” he relents, and I stand up. “Stubborn,” he mumbles, though the smirk he’s hiding is clear.

A half hour and a stop at a drive-thru later, I have an idea of where he’s taking me. The signs read closed at dusk on the metal gates as his truck turns into the drive. Parking in the angled spots, I wait for him to open my door this time, and he links his hand with mine, while carrying the white and red bag that contains my favorite food.

Finding our usual spot on the rocks, the glowing orange sun is quickly fading from the sky, hiding behind the tree line. He organizes the food just like six years prior.

“It always seems like I’m apologizing to you up here, but I brought you here because I am sorry. I should have never let the line blur between us.” I’m thankful he’s the one who begins talking.

“Dex, I’m not sorry,” I say, and his head pops up.

“What do you mean?”

The sun dips lower, and I throw my head back to admire the sky, wondering if I’m about to make the worst mistake in my life. “I’ve wanted to erase that line between friendship and more for a long time. I don’t regret that at all.” I inhale a deep breath and a slow smile appears on his face before it vanishes too fast.

“We can’t, Chrissy.” He violently shakes his head. “I’ll be your rock, your best friend, but it ends there. You’re way too important of a person.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I grab a chicken nugget and hold it in my hand.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your relationship with Sam?” A loud and steady stream of air exhales from his lungs while his palms incase his head.

“Friends … with some benefits mixed in,” he admits, and while the admission stings me, I’m elated he hasn’t given his heart away yet.

“So, last night was part of the usual benefits?” I ask, not even positive I can handle the answer. From the corner of my eye, I see him glance up and release another breath of air. Here we go, I tell myself. It’s not like you thought he was a virgin.

“No,” he answers and brings his knees up to rest his elbows on.

“No?” I question again to double check I’m not hearing things.

“No. We didn’t,” he further clarifies, and I struggle to not allow my lips to show how happy I am inside.

“Why?”

“Nothing, Chrissy. Can we please talk about something else?” He runs his hand through his hair.

“Don’t you feel it?” I whisper.

“It doesn’t matter.” He gazes out at the horizon.

“Dex,” I sigh, but he shakes his head.

“Just stop!” he yells.

I slide closer to him, pushing the food to the side. Kneeling on the hard rock in front of him, I place my hands on either side of his cheeks, and he looks at me with scared and frightened eyes. “I want you, Dex. Why should we continue to deny our feelings for one another?”

“Because, if it goes south, it’s over. We’ll have no relationship, instead of a friendship that drives to the core like we have now.”

“That won’t work for me.” I sit back and cross my arms. Since the kind act didn’t work, I figure I’ll go for the pouty teenager one.

“It has to. It’s the only option we have.” He continues his argument while leaning back on his hands.

Climbing up on his lap, I allow either side of my legs to encase his waist, pressing my body against his. “Tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now.”

He shifts his head away. “I don’t want to kiss you,” he says straight-faced.

Inching forward, my lips only mere millimeters away. “Are you sure?” I ask, pushing my chest against him, enticing him. His chest rises and falls in rapid breaths.

“Yes.” He gulps deeply, and I giggle at his attempt to be so disregarding to my advances.

I move my mouth closer to his ear and whisper, “So, you’re telling me if I pressed my lips to yours right now, you wouldn’t reciprocate?”

“That’s right. I’m telling you, Chrissy,” he argues, and sick of the back and forth bullshit, I place my hands on either side of his face and smash my lips to his.