But on Saturday, he’d known real jealousy. There was nothing gentle or subtle about the ache that came from his bones, from his very soul. The need to stake his claim, to remind the other guy and Audrey that she was his. Except she wasn’t. Not in the way he’d wanted her to be in that minute. The way he’d wanted her to be a lot, lately. He couldn’t remember the last day—the last hour—that he hadn’t grappled with the uncomfortable realization that the way he felt about Audrey was shifting with every kiss, with every smile, hell, with every glance.

But that was for him to deal with, on his own. In the meantime, he had something more important to do than get over the fact that he couldn’t stop wondering what her skin would feel like if he slipped a hand beneath her shirt, wondering what sounds she’d make if he kissed her neck.

None of that mattered as much as their friendship. That came first. Always.

“Shit,” Clarke muttered, and tapped the bouquet against his thigh again, this time hard enough to lose a few petals. He forced himself to jog up the steps to her front door, and with his other hand, which was holding a fussy pink gift bag that cost him six dollars—not counting the sparkly tissue paper the saleswoman had insisted he needed—he knocked.

Clarke sucked in his cheeks and waited. He was fairly certain she was home, since she’d posted an Instagram Story showing off her latest purchase in her closet less than an hour ago, but he was decidedly less certain she’d open the door once she realized it was him.

He let out a breath of relief when the front door opened, only to have that same breath catch in his chest again at the sight of his best friend. She was clearly gearing up for an evening in, dressed in cropped sweatpants, a red T-shirt, and her long dark hair in a messy knot atop her head. She looked…

She looked so damn good.

Clarke was braced for the anger he knew he deserved, but instead he saw only curiosity on her face. No, not just curiosity. Audrey also looked a little wary at the sight of him, and that made his chest ache.

Audrey was wary of him. Clarke had spent his entire life doing his best to never hurt Audrey, and he knew in this past week, he’d failed horribly. In some ill-gotten attempt to protect her, he’d done the exact opposite.

“Hi?” she said when he didn’t move or speak.

“Can I come in?” he said roughly.

“Of course,” she said, sounding slightly affronted that he’d thought he had to ask. He felt his hopes lift as she stepped aside without hesitation.