Married to My Best Friend

“Bentley, clearly.” There was venom in his voice I wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“No, I don’t. I didn’t tell him. I don’t know how he knew, but he did. He kissed me first, and it felt right the way kissing girls never did.” I looked down, studied my hands as I wrung them together in my lap. “I was scared I would lose you.”

“I can’t believe you, dumbass.” He flicked my ear.

“Ouch.” I jerked away, but I was smiling.

“You’ll never lose me. How in the hell don’t you know that? We’re…us. Alex and Caden. That’s why I can’t believe you didn’t think you could tell me. I don’t care if you like dudes. I just need you to always be my best friend. To trust me. You can always trust me, A.”

My pulse was thudding again, but for a different reason. Because he was right. We were us. Alex and Caden. Best friends. Somehow, we were even more. Inevitable.

“I do. And I’ll always be your best friend, Caden.”

I turned to look at him, Caden’s gaze already on mine. We sat there, staring at each other, the streetlights casting shadows around us. Caden cocked his head. His dark brows furrowed like he was studying me, trying to see if anything was different about me. He ran a hand through his chocolate hair that matched his eyes.

“You like Bentley?” he finally asked.

I shrugged. “Don’t know. I liked kissing him. You like Abby?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. I liked kissing her.”

We laughed.

And then we talked for a little while longer, and he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone—that I’d come out on my terms. After that, he drove to my house and parked. I was nervous when we got to my room, but once we each took a turn in the bathroom, and I climbed into bed, Caden got in behind me.

I breathed out a sigh of relief.

Caden said softly, “Promise me something…that you won’t ever lie to me again, and that we’ll always be best friends, no matter what.” There was something sad in his voice that I didn’t understand. Caden was good at making jokes, but he wasn’t always good at telling people how he really felt. He was better with me than anyone, though, and this was always our spot. Over the years, he’d asked me numerous times to make him promises while we shared this bed.

“I won’t lie to you, and yeah, we’ll always be us.”

“Oh, and keep that big boner I saw earlier to yourself. Seriously, man, you had the biggest bulge in your pants. You’re really, really gay, aren’t you?”

I flicked his ear this time. “Fuck you. My boner doesn’t want anything to do with you, and you’re just jealous it’s bigger than yours. Also…yeah, I’m really, really gay.”

We dissolved into laughter, and when we settled down, Caden went right to sleep.

I lay awake, thinking about the truth, that I was still lying to Caden, because I was in love with him and I could never, ever tell him.

Chapter One

Alex

Twenty-eight years old

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Caden said, swishing his drink around in the glass. It was only nine in the morning, which was a little early to have whiskey, if you asked me, but Caden had been weird since we’d gotten to Vegas. Actually, that wasn’t the full truth. Caden had been weird for months now. Something was going on with him, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was. Every time I asked him, he said he was fine, just in a funk, or he’d tease me that I was getting married and was going to leave him so I could live a heteronormative life with my husband, and wasn’t I supposed to rebel against the system that said we had to get married, settle down, and have two point five kids and a white picket fence?

“Fuck that fairy-tale shit, A. It can just be us. We can stay single and have fun screwing our way through life.”

While I enjoyed fucking quite a lot, it wasn’t all I wanted in life. I’d always been the type who wanted to get married. I wasn’t sure about having kids, but I had time to figure that out.

I liked the idea of coming home to someone every night after work. Of fighting over the television, and telling someone they stole all the blankets at night, and being part of an us and not just an I.

Of course, I’d always wanted that with Caden, but at twenty-eight, it was past time I stopped holding out hope that he would one day figure out he was bisexual and madly in love with me. And even if he was, which he wasn’t, Caden didn’t want the marriage thing.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married either,” I finally replied. We were standing on the balcony of my hotel suite in Vegas, where Jack and I were getting hitched. Jack had his own room, which was maybe a little weird, but I didn’t let myself stress about the why of it too much.