I wasn’t so sure my being here was helpful. She should have been the one to break things off, properly. I’d thought maybe she was right at first, that I’d be able to do it gently and without drama, but now …

My stomach lurched. Penny was a coward.

Whether it was me or her, it didn’t matter who did the hurting. It hurt Chad either way.

Self-loathing burned through me. I’d been flattered Penny thought that I had a way with Chad, that I was better with him than she was. But what about this was better? I could see it the way he saw it. Humiliation, to be told by a friend rather than his girlfriend. Shock, that it came out of nowhere. Hurt, that a relationship of four years didn’t even merit a face-to-face conversation.

I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “God, this is so fucked up, isn’t it?” I said. “Do you want to—I mean, if you wanted, we could go for a drive along the highway. Or head back to my place. If you want to just get away for a little while…” I trailed off, blinking. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Chad smiled. It was tinged with sadness, but it was still there. “You’re always thinking of me,” he said, fondness coming through in the way his smile reached his eyes, crinkling the outer corners. “You’re a great friend, you know?”

Before I could answer, he took a step closer. And then he was everywhere, invading my space with his strong arms and broad chest. With his face buried in the crook of my neck and my blonde hair tangled between us, I hugged him back.

The heaviness that had settled in a leaden pit in my stomach didn’t disappear, but lessened somehow. I was cocooned by the scent of warm sunshine on his skin and spicy aftershave, and his hug felt like forgiveness.

He was the first to pull back. His arms tightened around me, all hard muscle and bare skin. His fingertips electrified. The moment was charged, and I knew we were on the precipice of something.

“Babe,” he began to say.

I tensed, pressing my lips together. The softness in his voice, the tenderness in his eyes …

“Maybe … maybe we could give you and me a go,” he continued.

There was something so comforting about being in the arms of someone you loved, but this—no, this was wrong. We couldn’t have this conversation. Penny trusted us, trusted me.

Chad fell silent.

It was a warm summer night, but my body flashed cold. I knew what he wanted to say. He’d said it before, once, when we were drunk and Penny had fallen asleep. In the hazy dreaminess of dawn, while the gentle sways of Penny’s houseboat lulled us into sleepiness, he’d whispered, “I love you, Babe.”