“Be right back.” He stands with the phone to his ear. “Hey, I’m sorry…” His voice trails off as he retreats inside.

I get up off the ground and go sit in the shade. A pit of guilt sits heavy in my stomach. It isn’t like I knew, but I still feel bad. This happens a lot with Tanner and me. We hang out and the rest of the world fades away which inevitably leads to one of us forgetting about something we were supposed to do.

It’s one of the reasons I haven’t dated that much since we met. I hate that look of disappointment guys get when I tell them I’m going to hang with Tanner. They never understand our friendship. One of the requirements for any guy I date is that he needs to get along with my best friend. I may be single forever.

Tanner has dated a lot more than I have over the years and I’ve tried my best to make his girlfriends feel comfortable. Amelia, his latest girlfriend, seems nice. A little quiet and reserved for him, but if she makes him happy, then that’s all that matters.

He blows out a long breath and takes a seat in a lounge chair next to me. “Well, that could have gone better.”

“Sorry. Is she really pissed?”

“No, worse, disappointed.”

“This is all my fault. Maybe I should text her.”

“No.” He holds his arm out to stop me. “No offense, babe, but texting her is probably the worst thing you could do.”

“But it isn’t your fault. You wouldn’t have stayed if it weren’t for me. You were being a good friend.”

“She doesn’t see it like that.”

I feel awful and the buzz I had seems to have worn off. “Is there any way you can still make it?”

“No, that ship has sailed.” He lifts the Jager bottle and takes a drink. He nudges me. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

I’m not so sure but stating that seems the opposite of helpful. “You’re right. I’m sure you’ll charm your way back into her good graces.”

“I don’t do that.” He smiles.

I cock a brow and he chuckles and passes over the Jager.

“Drink, babe. New rule, every time you look at me like you feel sorry for me, you have to take a shot.”

“No way. I’d walk around drunk all the time.” Still, I take a small drink, scowl at the black licorice taste, and hand it back. “Do you think our lives would be easier, dating-wise, if we weren’t friends?”