THE BOYFRIEND WHO NEEDED A GIRLFRIEND… AS A FRIEND

Darren had a talent.

He could make me feel wanted without actually doing anything about it.

He’d stare at me a little too long, pull me closer, whisper things that made my stomach flip—and just when the tension was finally perfect…

He’d pull away.

“Let’s take it slow.”

Slow?

We had been taking it slow for so long I was beginning to think we were walking.

Still, he made me feel special.

“I don’t really notice other girls,” he’d tell me.

“You’re different.”

And stupidly, I loved hearing it.

Until I started noticing something.

Darren did notice people.

Just… not the people I expected.

We could be at a restaurant and I’d catch him watching some handsome guy across the room with the same dreamy expression he used on me.

I’d nudge him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He’d look at me innocently.

“I’m looking at the menu.”

“The menu is behind you.”

I brushed it off.

Maybe I was being paranoid.

Maybe I was just insecure.

Then one evening, I decided to surprise him.

I dressed up specifically for him.

Hair done. Perfume. Outfit carefully selected. The whole production.

I arrived at his place without telling him.

I opened the door with the spare key he’d given me.

“Surprise!”

Nothing.

Then I heard voices from the living room.

I walked in.

And froze.

Darren was sitting on the couch, holding another man in his arms.

The man’s head was buried against his chest.

Darren was gently rubbing his back.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

They looked… intimate.

Not friends intimate.

Not brothers intimate.

Something else.

I stood there in my dress, holding the little gift I’d brought him.

Darren looked up.

His face went completely blank.

I looked at the man.

Then at him.

Then back at the man.

“So…”

My voice cracked.

“Is this why you’ve been taking things slow?”

Neither of them spoke.

I dropped the gift onto the table.

And suddenly, every strange moment came rushing back.

The way he’d stare at men.

The way he’d never actually pursued me.

The way he’d tell me I was beautiful but never seem desperate to have me.

The way every romantic moment somehow ended with him creating distance.

I looked at Darren.

“You know what?”

He swallowed.

“I think I finally understand.”

He didn’t deny it.

He just whispered:

“I wanted to tell you.”

I laughed, because apparently my dignity had already left the building.

“All this time I thought you were playing hard to get.”

He looked down.

“I wasn’t.”

I nodded slowly.

“Clearly.”

Then I looked at the man beside him.

And finally understood the cruelest part.

Darren wasn’t afraid of getting too close to me.

He was afraid I’d get close enough to figure him out.

Read About:His Touch, My Undoing