Second(22)

“I know you are,” he says, lip twitching. “That was never the issue.”

“What was the issue?” I ask him, holding my breath as I wait for his reply.

“That you were his,” he says, brow furrowing as if he can’t believe his own words. He takes a step back, my legs dropping, and leaves the kitchen, grabbing his bag and heading into the guest room. I sit there and think over the words he just said.

That I was his?

Ben’s?

And not… his?

I shake my head. No. Why did I push him just now? I’ve never done it before. I wish I hadn’t.

The thing about words, you can think them all you want, but once you say them you can’t take them back.

Those four words of his just changed everything.



*****



I want to hide in my room after that but I don’t. There’s no way we can avoid this now that it’s come about, and I feel like it’s my turn to be honest with him. I knock twice on his door. He tells me to come in, so I open the door and enter. He’s lying in bed on his back, shirtless, arms folded behind his head. Great, now I have to have this conversation trying not to look at his body? Why does everything feel different all of a sudden? Last time he was here I could be around him with no issues.

What has changed?

Is it because last time Ben was still standing between us, even though he wasn’t there? Does it even matter? Nothing can happen between us.

Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself here.

“I meant what I said before, but there’s more,” I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking down at my hands. “Last time you left, I missed you. I mean, more than I should have, and it scared me a little.”

We’re in a defining moment, caught between the truth and the reality of the situation. None of this makes sense.

“How the fuck did we get here?” I mutter, puffing out a breath and lifting my head. “You mean so much to me, Dean, and I don’t want to ruin it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

What if he does the typical male thing and starts avoiding me right now? Or ignoring me. I think that would kill me. I like knowing he’s always there if I need to reach out to him, and I like to think he knows that I’m here for him too.

“Nothing is going to ruin our friendship,” he assures me, patting the spot next to him. “Come here.”

I hesitantly scoot up the bed and lie back on a separate pillow. “How is this going to help the situation?”

“It’s not,” he says, then adds softer, “I just like having you near me.”

I open my mouth, and then close it. “So we’re just saying whatever we feel with no filter now, I guess.”

“Would you rather we didn’t?” he asks, turning to his side, facing me. “We can pretend today never existed if you want to, Sabina. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours or what you want from me.”

“Does it matter though?” I ask, laughing bitterly. “You’re his cousin, Dean. How am I meant to be okay with that? It’s like the ultimate betrayal to his memory.”

“He’s not here, but we are, Sabina. Are you going to give away your happiness over some misplaced guilt?”

“How is it misplaced?” I ask, turning my head to him, scanning his facial features. His eyes are soft and unguarded, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. He’s everything a man should be, strong yet yielding, protective and encouraging at the same time.

What do I want from him?





Chapter Eleven

Dean

I remember the first time I saw her, back in high school. She was sitting on the grass, her dark hair blowing in the wind, her bare legs folded beneath her.

“Who is that?” I ask Ben, frozen in my tracks at the sheer beauty of the girl. I don’t pay much attention to girls, to be honest. I’m usually lost in my music, and although I have several female friends, they are just that, friends. No one has ever caught my eye like this girl has, and it’s a new feeling. An exciting one.

“That’s Sabina,” Ben says, watching her. “She’s in my year. Why?”

I take a step toward her, like she is pulling me in her direction. If any girl is meant for me, she’s the one. I can feel it in my bones.

“Come on, we better get to practice,” Ben says, pulling me out of the Sabina haze.

And Sabina, what a beautiful name.

A week later, before I could work up the nerve to ask her out, she and Ben started dating.

My own cousin.

And she stayed with him. She married him.

And she asked me to sing at her fucking wedding. I couldn’t even say no, because it was her asking. She wanted me to, and so I did. For her. To see her smile. My feelings for her aren’t selfish, and never have been, so even though it killed me inside, I looked at her and sang.