People fall in love with their best friends all the time. But for me, the circumstances of this unrequited attraction are even more agonizing.
I am gay.
My best friend, Sawyer, is not.
Since we were fifteen, I've harbored this torturous crush. Now, as we both enter our thirties, it seems time to resign myself to the fact that nothing is going to come of it. Ever.
Or so I thought…
One night, a bottle of gin and a little uncharacteristic self-pity were all the inspiration I needed to launch into a ramble about being alone because I’m bad at everything - even kissing. Determined to prove me wrong, Sawyer decided to shut me up with a kiss.
I know he meant for it to be innocent.
Turns out it was anything but.