Page 12 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

The massive church suddenly feels like a damn coffin. Lid closed. Nails driven in. No oxygen. No light. No escape.

I push past Mom, rush down the aisle, and fly down the steps out into the crisp, fresh air. Gulping at it desperately, I shove my hands through my hair and tug at the ends, the sharp bite of pain to my scalp a welcome change from the agony ripping me apart inside.

A small hand finds my arm, and I jump and whirl around.

“Flynn, are you all right?” Rach’s voice can’t hide her concern. Neither can her soft, caring eyes peering up at me.

I shake off her touch, turn away, and scrub my hands over my face.

Not at fucking all.

But there’s no way to explain it to her. Not that she’d understand. And if I say I’m not okay, she’s going to poke and prod until I tell her something. Then, she’ll see through the lie and dig and dig until I come clean. So, I suck in one last fortifying breath, steel my features, and turn to look at her. Hurt and bewilderment cross her lovely face.

Shit.

My heart aches, and that rock of guilt rolls in my stomach again, heavier now. I shouldn’t have shoved her hand off like that. She was just trying to make sure I was all right. It’s not her fault I’m a fucking mess.

Her bottom lip quivers slightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just got a little claustrophobic and hot in there. That’s all.”

She offers a slow nod and chews on her bottom lip—a sure sign she’s not buying my story—but she lets my lie slide. “Your mom wants to go grab coffee. You up for it?”

“Sure.”

Not really, but I can’t blow off Mom.

Rachel steps forward and loops her arm through mine for the walk down the street to my car. “You sure you’re okay?”

I thought I was getting good at covering my true feelings around Rachel, but she sees right through my shit as if she’s inside my head. Every damn time. “Yeah, I’m really busy at work and dealing with some stuff there, and it all kinda caught up with me during Mass.”

It isn’t a total lie. Work is the main reason I became HRD4U in the first place. The market crash a year ago practically wiped me out, and it decimated several of my largest clients who fled with their tails tucked between their legs. For someone who works on commission, it was catastrophic.

That left me scrambling to cover my mortgage, car, and student loan payments, even though I never really thought I was living above my means. HRD4U was supposed to be a quick, easy way to get caught up. I had no idea it would become this huge or that I’d enjoy it so much. That it would become a release I needed almost as much as I need Rach in my life.

Her head drops against my shoulder as we walk. “Well, you know you can talk to me about anything that’s bothering you, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

What about if what’s been bothering me is my unrequited love for you?

There have been so many times I’ve been tempted to say just that, to blurt out how I truly feel, but I’ve always managed to rein myself in. If those words ever left my lips, if she ever knew how I felt, and if I lost her because of it, I would be lost. And no amount of religion would ever help me be found again.

As much as I may want her in my bed, I need her in my life more.

But she means well, and the pain in her voice, probably thinking I don’t feel like I can talk to her, makes that ache in my chest actually sting. “I know I can.”

“Just like you listened to me whine and complain about my breakup, you can complain about whatever is bothering you.”

I chuckle. Helping Rachel through her breakups has to be my least favorite friend job. Listening to how those guys treated her, like she was expendable and low on their list of priorities, makes my blood boil, but I’ll do it every damn time if she needs me there. Alicia does a lot for her, too, but when Rach needs a shoulder to cry on and someone to have a deep, emotional chat with, she always seems to end up on my doorstep.

My car comes into view, and I pat her arm. “I do appreciate it, really.”

I stop next to my car, and she leans up to press a kiss to my cheek. My face tingles, and heat spreads through my body at the contact.

All I want is to drag her against me and turn my head to press my lips to hers, but instead, I suck in a deep breath and let her slide down and walk around to the passenger side.

She flashes me a smile and tugs open her door. “We better get going to meet your mom.”

---