Page 5 of A Little Secret

“Yeah, well I was out until almost four in the morning, so you’ll have to cut me some slack.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “You’re not helping your case.”

His sigh is weighted and borders on annoyed. I don’t blame him. I’m annoyed with both of us.

“Mollie’s just a friend, Fin.”

“Just a friend,” I repeat. “Why’d she tag you?”

“Because we’refriends,” he emphasizes. The word grates on me, and so does his tone. Like I’m the one in the wrong. The one walking on thin ice.

“Is this the same Mollie you drove home a couple weeks ago?” I ask. “The one giggling in the background?”

“Fin,” he mutters. Damn, I can almost taste his annoyance. “Can you please…not give me shit for once?”

I hate how he does this. How it’s always my fault. Then again, he clearly thinks I do the same thing to him. Maybe I am. If the roles were reversed, would I respond differently?Would I expect him to respond differently? I don’t even know at this point.

Closing my eyes again, I try to cool down. To get ahold of my frustration. To wrangle my acid tongue and all the damage I know it's capable of if I let loose. If I speak my mind. If I abandon the filter I’ve worked so hard to cultivate. But Drew? He’s making it…difficult.

“Listen, I’m not trying to give you shit, Drew?—”

“I’m allowed to have friends,” he grits out.

Friends. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I bite my tongue, forcing myself to choose my next words carefully. “I know you’re allowed to have friends, but…”

“But what? She’s attractive, so I can’t hang out with her?”

My chest squeezes, and I rub at the ache. “So, you find her attractive?—”

“Fuck, Fin,” he snaps. “I’m hungover. I’m tired. You woke me up?—”

“Did you kiss her?”

“No, I didn’t kiss her, all right? Where’s the fuckin’ trust, huh?”

I lean my head back and suck my lips between my teeth. I want to trust him. I do. And I probably should. He’s never cheated. I know he hasn’t. But this is hard. It’s hard being this far away from him when we spent years together. Years. Going to the same high school. Sharing most of the same classes. He was my first. He’s my only. Sometimes, I miss the way things were. Before college. Before the distance. Before the snippy conversations and the fighting and the awkward pauses and the…life we’ve both built over the last few months. Without each other. While attempting to cling to the high school daydreams we wove together on late nights and early mornings.

It’s confusing and overwhelming and exhausting.

So. Damn. Exhausting.

“Drew…”

Another tired sigh greets me. “What, Fin?”

“Do you think we should…” I gulp past the lump in my throat. “Do you think we should take a break?”

“Are you kidding me?” he demands. “No, I don’t want to take a break. Fuck, Fin.” A long pause follows his curse. “You’re not allowed to be mad at me. Not when you post pictures of Griffin every fuckin’ day!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Griffin,” he spits, mentioning my older brother’s best friend and my current roommate, thanks to our living situation.

Yeah, I didn’t exactly plan for my kitchen to catch fire when I first moved here, but here I am, living with my brother, his friends, and Dylan until the renovations are finished. But I don’t really see how Griffin and my living arrangement has anything to do with Drew and his so-calledfriend.

With a huff, I ask, “You’re seriously bringing Griffin up right now?”

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