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Please, no.

It only takes a single second to plunge everything back into uncertainty again, and I felt my bubble of happy drifting away.

Warm tingly feeling with Miguel. Not okay. Not okay at all.
This hadn’t happened before, not since the night we slept together when I’d welcomed those feelings,
any
feelings, and let him wrap me up in his affection and given him the same in return.

Well. Maybe it had happened since then. Once or twice when I let my guard down because feeling nothing was almost as unbearable as the pain. But just a moment ago, we could have… kissed. We could have made a tiny move and nothing would have been the same again. Not for me, not for Miguel, not for anyone.

“Freya.”

Staying upright on my skates meant keeping my focus straight ahead, and I was grateful because tears swam in my eyes. I didn’t want to look at him.

“Relax,” he said, his voice soft. “Please. Nothing happened, everything’s the same.”

I gave a single nod, willing myself to believe him, but if he believed it was true he wouldn’t have mentioned it. Wouldn’t have
felt
it.

“I need a break,” I told him.

We skated to the edge of the rink together but as soon as we stepped off, I left Miguel behind and skated towards the doors.

“Freya!”

It wasn’t Miguel’s voice but Bree’s, and I stopped and swivelled around to face her. Bree actually
had
dressed as Madonna; she wore a white wedding dress similar to the one from the
Like A Virgin
video and she looked stunning, as if this was something from her normal, everyday - or night - wardrobe.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” she asked. “I wanna skate with you!”

She did that thing with her eyes that nobody could ever resist; sweetness radiated from them so I couldn’t say no.

I was still shaky from my moment with Miguel, but if anyone could take my mind off it, it was Bree so I agreed and we rolled back to the rink. Miguel must have gone to the bar because he was nowhere in sight and I tried to relax again.

With her arm linked through mine, Bree said, “Why don’t we come here more often? This place is awesome and you’re a great skater! Why didn’t I know this about you before?”

“Well, I guess because we’ve never been skating before!” I laughed. “I came to places like this a lot when I was a teenager but I’m a little old to do this so often now.”

Bree laughed. “You’re not old, and you seem like you’re having fun.”

I was. Before the weirdness.

Aloud, I said, “I am. I didn’t expect so many people to come along tonight.”

“I know, right? Oh my God, did you meet Isabelle yet? She’s so cute!”

“I saw her but I haven’t met her yet. Miguel and I didn’t want to crowd her.”

Miguel and I. Why did that suddenly sound so traitorous coming from my lips?
Miguel and I
did lots of things together, it wasn’t unusual for our names to be linked but after what had just almost occurred between us, the connection unsettled me.

So much for Bree taking my mind off things.

Bree’s pace slowed and I glanced at her. Her smile had faded, thoughtfulness replacing it.

“What’s wrong?” Without a word she steered us to the barriers. “Bree?”

Still not speaking, she studied me for a moment, her eyes searching mine.

“Bree, seriously.” I had no idea what she was looking at. Maybe my make-up had smudged. I put my hand up to my face to feel for any abnormalities but everything felt fine.

She shook her head. “Your make-up’s great. That’s not what I was looking at. I wasn’t looking at anything really, I just…”

“What is it?”

“Are you and Miguel fighting?”

Her question threw me and started the dramatic pounding in my chest again. “What makes you ask that?”

“I don’t know. You just looked a little uncomfortable together when you were skating.”

Oh God. How much did she see? Did she see how close we’d gotten? Did she think there was something happening between us? The questions whizzed through my mind and I had to remind myself to calm down because she hadn’t implied any of those things.

But she
had
noticed the awkwardness.

“We’re not fighting,” I told her, forcing a smile.

“Something’s up though. Do you need space from him again? You two have been getting along so much better lately.”

I needed space. From everyone who might have seen something I didn’t understand yet. What vibes were we giving off that Bree saw them from across the room?

“Everything’s fine. I promise.” Bree smiled but I wasn’t sure she bought my lie. “I need some fresh air. I’ll talk to you later.”

After a quick word with the doormen to let them know I’d be returning, I paused to remove my skates before heading outside.

The music quietened as the doors closed behind me and I leaned against the wall, letting out a deep breath. The parking lot was quiet, most people already inside enjoying themselves, so I took a few more long breaths in and out to calm myself.

The year had thrown me two enormous curveballs, changing the journey I thought I was on and leaving me lost in my own life.

I re-wound my memories back to the night I spent with Miguel. We were insane to think it wouldn’t change anything.

It changed
everything
.

We slept together when we’d reached our lowest points and we’d used sex like some kind of magic tool to fix the bits of us that were broken. That’s not what sex is for; I’d never used it that way before but it had done the thing I wanted it to do. It made me feel. But what I felt now was confusion.

It wasn’t Miguel I wanted, it was closeness and he had provided it.

If that were true, what the hell just happened in there?

For the three weeks we’d been back in each other’s lives, Miguel and I had grown closer. We’d gone out for dinner, hung out with the rest of our friends, had late night talks on the phone, and spent the occasional evening at my place wearing our most casual clothes and playing video games. He’d brought laughter back into my life with his chilled out ways and he’d started to creep into my thoughts when he wasn’t around.

“You can tell me to go away if you want to.”

Miguel’s voice made my breath catch again. I knew he’d follow me, but I wasn’t ready yet. Hadn’t figured out what to do or say. I raised my head. He stood close to the doorway, barefoot just like me, hands in his pockets and his head tilted slightly to one side.

“I can’t do this, Miguel.”

“I didn’t ask you for anything.”

“I know, I know. But this… I don’t know, our friendship, it’s all messed up and-”

Miguel stepped towards me and wrapped his fingers around the tops of my arms. Calm spread through me from his touch. Light. Gentle.

“I don’t know what just happened in there but I do know that being around you has been the best thing for me, and I think you feel the same way. I think we need each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

I shook my head. “There’s something very wrong about us almost kissing.”

“We slept together, Freya. We’ve done the kissing thing.”

“That was different.” I shrugged out of his hold and turned my back on him, pacing. “That night was weird, and we were mad at each other and we-” I gave up, not knowing what else to say. We’d done this. Had this conversation over and over, and we’d both accepted the reasons. Both knew they weren’t good enough. Both knew we wanted to cling to each other and heal each other’s pain. But that didn’t make it okay. Far from it.

“I don’t know what to do here.” Miguel sighed. “I feel like I can’t win no matter what. I’m not gonna tell you I didn’t want to kiss you in there, because I did, and it kills me. It kills me because I shouldn’t want this, and I don’t know why I want it now when all we ever were was friends. Something’s changed and I hate it because I know it’s wrong.”

I tilted my head back, casting my eyes skyward as if an answer might come to me from above. Hell, if anyone could have used a miracle, it was me.

The truth was, the answers had to be come from me. I’d relied on so many people for so many things but nobody could solve this for me. Nobody knew my feelings, and how would I have begun to explain them? Couldn’t I just slip back into the land of denial and pretend none of this mattered? That sleeping with Miguel was a perfectly acceptable part of grieving and that we’d move on from it without any emotional scars?

“Maybe we should stay away from each other for a while,” I whispered, my gaze still on the dark sky above.

Silence. The longest silence I could remember.

“Miguel.”

“If that’s what you want, we’ll do it. We’ll see each other less. We’ll just be colleagues.”

Except we won’t because we have this enormous thing between us!
I let out a growl, and spun to face him again.

“What other choice is there?” I asked, my eyes filling with tears as I stared at him. “Tell me what other choice we have.”

Miguel’s deep brown eyes glistened, forcing my own tears to spill. “Well, the other choice is that we don’t change anything. We keep seeing each other whenever we want to and just let this play out.”

I shook my head again. “We have to fight it.”

“Why?”

“You know why!”

Miguel ate up the distance between us in a couple of long strides and cupped my face in his hands, his fingers firm but gentle on my cheeks. “And you know it doesn’t work that way. You try to fight something, it gets stronger. You fight harder, and it starts to take over every part of your life until you’re hiding from something that might not be as scary as you made it.
This
scares me, Freya. The way I’ve been feeling about you scares me. It makes me hate myself. I know every reason this is wrong, but I can’t stop it. I’m tired of trying.”

The pain in his eyes told me he was every bit as confused and scared and conflicted as I was and I leaned my forehead against his. His hands slid from my cheeks down to my shoulders and his thumbs linked behind my neck.

“I can’t date you,” I whispered. “I can’t.”

“I’m not asking for that. I’m just asking you to be honest. I’m asking you to let this be whatever it is.”

“What are we supposed to do about the guilt?”

He gave me a small smile. “I never said I had all the answers.”

I closed my eyes, trying to slow my thoughts so I could focus on what he was saying. What he offered, what we were potentially offering each other, sounded like a friends with benefits deal. That wasn’t us though. That wasn’t what he meant or what we wanted, and it wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it would be.

“Stop. Thinking. Just for now. Please.”

My hands moved almost involuntarily to his back, and I leaned into him. “Okay. Just for now.”

His mouth met mine in an instant; everything I’d tried not to feel freed, pouring out of me into a kiss that felt as right as it did wrong. The softness of his lips, the tenderness of his touch and the way his tongue gently probed for entry forced my worries aside. My body sagged against his and I let his warmth fill me up and block out a little more of the chill inside me.

“Holy shit.”

The spell was broken with those words and Miguel and I broke apart to find Ethan and Tommy Salinger, staring at us.

This is what I get for living in the moment.

The horror on Tommy’s face stabbed at my insides and I pushed past Miguel and ran back inside, away from the looks of judgment. If I’d had shoes on, I’d have run straight to my car and driven home, but instead I had to go back to the party I’d only just left and try to act as if nothing had happened.

Hard as I’d tried to fight it, something
had
happened. I’d let Miguel kiss me, I’d kissed him back. Not because we were emotional and needed each other; because we wanted to.

On my way inside, I scooped up my skates, trying to blink away tears, because crying did not fall into the category of “acting normal”.

Everyone would know about this by the end of the night, and I hadn’t even figured out what “this” was.

“Freya, wait!”

I barely heard it over the sound of the music. Ethan. I whirled around to face him.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t say anything.”

Ethan’s eyes were softer than I’d expected. Of course, he’d never met Will so maybe he wouldn’t judge me so harshly, but he didn’t know me well enough to be the one chasing after me. He was a good guy, but we weren’t friends. Not yet.

“Slow down,” he said, taking my arm and pulling me over to the side of the room, a little way from the doors where the doormen eyed me suspiciously. “Are you okay?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Why is that the only question people ask me these days? I’m not okay, Ethan. I’m fucked up.”

He flinched, probably because cussing wasn’t my thing. He’d never heard me speak that way before.