Page 9 of Friend Zone to End Zone

And if it meant shaving my long locks and looking like a half-Polynesian Ken doll, then so be it.

“You sure about that?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Do your worst.”

I sounded dramatic, but to be honest, for a while now I had actually been considering cutting my hair off. I’d just been waiting for her to bring it up again, since I liked to put on a show for her.

“Okay,” she said, and then she stepped back behind me, grabbed the clippers, and lifted some of my hair into her hand like she was going to dig right in.

“Wait.” I held up my hands right before the clippers touched my hair, my heart hammering in my chest as I realized the moment had come and I wasn’t quite as ready as I thought. “A-aren’t you going to shampoo my hair first? Maybe give me one of those scalp massages you’re famous for?”

“Do you want me to bring out the wheelbarrow and hose and do that for you out here?” she asked, amusement in her tone. “Because if you wanted the full treatment we should have met at the salon instead.”

“No, it’s fine.” I sighed. “But could you take a photo of me first, so I’ll have something to remember my hair by?”

“You and your precious hair.” She grumbled then set the clippers back on the table and held her hand out for my phone. I fished it out of my pocket. She stepped in front of me to take the photo and said, “Okay, smile.”

After snapping a couple, she asked, “Should I gather your hair in a ponytail so you can save it?”

“Nah.” I took my phone back when she offered it. “I think the photos will do.”

I wasn’tthatattached to it.

“Good.” As if that decided everything, she picked up the hair clippers again and started shaving off the bottom half of my head.

“You promise I’m not going to regret this?” I asked after she’d dropped several long locks on the ground.

“I could cut your hair in my sleep,” she said. “You’ll be thanking me when I’m done and probably wish you’d asked me to do this long ago.”

“If you say so.” I shrugged.

“And when the future Mrs. Kekoa tells you it was your haircut that first made her fall in love with you, you can take me out for dinner at The Capital Grille where I can tell you ‘I told you so’ over the most expensive entree on the menu.”

I laughed. “It’s a date.”

And hopefully, it actually would be one. A real date, that is.

Because while being her best friend for the past three years had been amazing, and I appreciated any time I got with her, I knew I couldn’t go on like this forever. It was getting too hard to watch her date Chad—the guy who pretty much seemed to suck the life out of her these days.

The guy had cast some sort of magic spell on her when they first met—charmed her with his polished demeanor and the charisma that helped him in boardrooms across the country where he would win his clients.

But even though I had been sure she was about to kick him to the curb on several occasions when she’d come to my house with tears streaming down her cheeks, because of something he’d said or done to break another piece of her heart, she kept going back to him.

I didn’t get it.

I was the one to put her back together—put a smile back on her face—yethewas the guy she couldn’t imagine living without.

It was like just because he had been the first one in Denver to sweep her off her feet, she couldn’t even imagine trying out a relationship with someone else. They’d bonded over the death of a parent—Chad’s mom had passed away when he was in high school, and he’d been the first on the scene after Arianna’s father’s brain aneurysm. This initial bond was blinding her to all his faults and any of the positives another guy might bring to the table.

Another guy like me, of course.

For years I’d been biding my time, just waiting for her to realize that the perfect guy for her was the best friend she had friend-zoned when we first met. But if my plan to get her to finally see me in the way I wanted failed, I might have to take the 49er’s offer and leave the Denver Dragons.

Because moving to another state was probably the only way I’d get over her.

I sighed as I imagined what moving on would look like—playing for a new team and readjusting to a world where Arianna really was meant to be with Chad and I was meant to be with someone else.

But whenever I tried to picture sharing my life with another woman, I still only ever saw the woman currently buzzing off the sides of my head.

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