Page 5 of Resisting the Running Back

But that’s all it ever grew into.

Friendship.

I don’t know if I was friend-zoned or what, but I never made the move even though I always wanted to, and eventually it became what it is now. I’m too afraid to make a move because I’ll lose the best friend I’ve ever had aside from my brother.

We’ve always been there for each other through breakups, makeups, and hookups. Sometimes—oftentimes—she shares more details than I’d prefer to know, but I’ve learned to live with my lot in life.

I’d rather be her friend than not have her in my life at all.

She sniffles against me, and eventually she sighs again and backs up out of my arms. “Welcome home,” she says.

I give her a half smile. “Thanks. You doing okay?”

She shakes her head, and then she slips into the passenger seat of her own car without asking me to drive. It’s a given that I’ll drive. I always do when we’re together, and it spans back to high school when we’d go to parties and I would opt out of drinking the night before a game, so I’d end up driving her home in her own car, and then I’d walk the few blocks to my house from there.

Her head is leaned back on the seat and her eyes are closed when I take the driver’s seat after depositing my suitcase in her trunk, and I have to adjust the seat to give myself a bit more legroom.

“Okay, Summers. Spill it. Why am I here?” I fire up the engine, and I’m about to ease into traffic when her reply comes.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose my job because of Tyler.”

I slam on the brakes and stare over at her. “What? How?”

She licks her lips and chews on the bottom one for just a beat as I resist the urge to reach over and pull her lip out from the clutches of her teeth. “He snuck onto my computer and posted about my books under my account on my student message board.”

My jaw drops. “What?”

She presses her lips together. “He always hated that I wrote. He’s not like you.”

She says that last part quietly.

I couldn’t be prouder of her for reaching for her dreams. She’s been quietly publishing books under a pen name for the last four years, and I’ll admit that I’ve bought every single one of them.

All eleven of them.

And I’ve read them.

All of them.

And when I’m finding myself in a moment of missing her, which is fairly often, I like to reread them just to listen to her beautiful voice through her words.

I’ve never told her that.

She writes about strong, badass women much like herself falling in love with billionaires, and her stories are the kind that are hard to put down because I want to know what happens next.

I love the way her mind works, and to hear that she was with someone who didn’t fully appreciate it is nothing short of totally infuriating.

“I’m so sorry, Soph. That was a dick move. What can you do to fix it?” I ask.

She lifts a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Damage is done. You can go,” she says, looking at the empty road beside me.

She only adds more detail once I start driving. “Only you and Tyler knew my pen name. I didn’t tell anyone else because I was afraid of my students finding out. I love my job, and I love teaching, and my department chair called me to tell me I’m on administrative leave until further notice.” She swipes at her cheek. “They’ll investigate, find out that my pen name is indeed Summer Love, and that’ll be the end of it. It was my own fault for leaving my laptop where he could access it.”

“You had no idea he would stoop that low,” I say.

She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t.” She reaches over and touches my arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I set my hand on top of hers for a second as I glance over at her. “Me, too.”

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