Page 15 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

She winks at me and waves. “Bye, guys.”

I follow Flynn to his car, and we climb in quietly. He starts it and takes off out of the diner parking lot without a word.

A strange tension hangs between us in the car—one I haven’t ever felt with him before. I glance over at him. With his eyes focused on the road, it’s hard to tell if he senses it, too, but I don’t know how he couldn’t. It’s never like this for us. Things are always so…easy and comfortable. There are very few people in the world I can just sit with in silence without it getting awkward, and Flynn has always been one of them.

Even when we first met, it was like something clicked. I always attributed our fast friendship to the fact that I tend to get along better with men. Having two brothers turned me into a tomboy early in life, and I spent most of my time chasing after them with a hockey stick or baseball bat instead of playing dress-up with the girls in the neighborhood.

Flynn has always been like another brother to me since Bash and Jameson are so far away. So, having whatever is unsaid between us causing a rift is unacceptable.

I swallow thickly and clear my throat. “So…you want to tell me what’s been bothering you today?”

He releases an annoyed-sounding sigh and glances over at me. “Didn’t we already have this discussion after Mass?”

“Yes, but it seemed like you were holding something back at coffee with your mom.” And this question is either going to get me an answer or push him further into whatever this attitude is. “Is this about a girl?”

He stiffens, and Alicia’s words from the other night float back into my head. Flynn is hot. Like, really fucking hot. And that’s intimidating to any guy you’re dating to know you spend that much time with the guy who lives right next door.

Maybe Flynn is suffering from the same problem. Maybe whoever this girl is can’t help but be jealous of how close we are. Maybe she doesn’t want him seeing me anymore. Maybe he’s been put in a crappy position and he doesn’t know how to handle it without hurting her or me.

“Look, Flynn, I don’t want our friendship to get in the way of you being with someone you really like. If there’s a girl and she’s not comfortable with us or how close we are, I would understand that. I mean, I hope we can always be such good friends, and I wouldn’t ever want anything to come between us, but—”

“Just stop.” His words come out guttural and low, not his usual soft, even tone.

“What?” I jerk my head over to look at him.

His hands tighten on the wheel until his knuckles whiten. “Please, just stop.”

“Stop what? Trying to be your friend?”

His jaw tightens, and a muscle there tics.

I shake my head and fight the burn of impending tears. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you, Flynn. Everything was fine this morning before church, but then—”

“But then nothing. We don’t always have to tell each other everything, Rachel. There are some things maybe sometimes we should want to keep private.”

There isn’t any malice is in his words—and he probably isn’t even wrong—but they hurt all the same.

I recoil from him and blink away the tears starting to form. “Wow. Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend? Because you’re certainly not acting like him today.”

He doesn’t respond, and we’re almost home. He takes the turn onto our street, and our houses appear. This is my last chance to get a word in.

“You know what happens when you bottle stuff up and you don’t talk about what’s bothering you, Flynn? You become like my father and my brothers. They were all so emotionally repressed that sometimes it was like talking to a wall. My father ruined his relationship with my mother and all of us because he cut himself off from all of his emotions except anger. And Jameson couldn’t even bring himself to come to Michigan to say goodbye to him. At least Bash finally got it through this thick skull and realized that he needed to clear the air before Dad died. If that hadn’t happened, then Bash would have spent the rest of his life harboring all that anger, and who knows where it would’ve led. I still worry about Jameson and what not being there is going to do to him.”

Flynn opens his mouth to respond, but I hold up my hand.

“No, just listen. You were there for me through all of that. I don’t understand why you can’t let me be there for you now—whatever is happening.”

And the fact that he keeps pushing me away today feels worse than any breakup I’ve ever been through because I never loved any of them.

Not really.

Not the way I love Flynn.

He’s my best friend for life, or so I thought.

Now, it feels like I’m losing him, and I have no idea why.

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