“Cool. Hopefully I’ll see you there.” I give him a little wave and head out the front door.

On the surface, it seems like very little has changed between me and Jack, but underneath there’s this simmering awkwardness that’s about to boil over every time we talk. We never discussed our conversation under the stars on the beach, both of us pretending we were drunker than we actually were and feigning memory loss the next day.

But on the rare occasion he actually looks me in the eye now, all I hear is those words, on repeat in my head.

I would wreck you.

Jack and I have been living together for four months now, and I still have no idea what would make him think that. I still don’t know how his parents died. Or when. Other than his slip about being raised in Connecticut, all I know about my roommate is he likes video games and has perfect eyes.

Oh, and he does a really good job of taking care of me. Making my coffee in the morning. Picking up breakfast when he knows I worked a late shift at the bar. Reheating leftovers for dinner and practically shoving them in my face when I can’t force myself away from my email inbox.

I don’t deserve him. Our friendship is the perfect example of how much I take without bothering to give back. And because of that, we’ll never be more than friends. I can never let myself take further advantage of his supreme generosity.

And yet, when he pushes through the front door of the bar a couple of hours into my shift, my stomach does a round-off back handspring back tuck. I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. His answering smile sends my tummy into a full-on gold-medal-winning floor routine.

He finds a vacant table tucked back in the corner, close to the bar.

“Hey.” I toss a cardboard coaster on the table, leaning both elbows on the marble high-top. “Where’s Nick?”

“He’s with Harley.” Jack leans both of his arms on the table too, leaving just a few inches of space in between us.

“Oh, cool. Is everyone coming by, then? I think I owe you all a round.” I use this brief respite to stretch my aching calves. Running around all over Brooklyn and then coming straight to my bar shifts has been murder on my legs.

“I think they’re all staying in. So it’s just me tonight.” A soft smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

I stand up straight. “Oh.”

Jack hasn’t ever come here by himself before. He joins the rest of the group most nights when they come out, but this is his first solo venture.

“Well, what can I get you? The usual?”

“Sure.”