After a tragic accident tears apart their friendship group, once best friends Kenji and Darian have never gotten along.
Kenji thinks Darian is a goon who has nothing better to do than cause trouble and terrorize others. Darian, on the other h...
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Darian and I kissed. We fucking kissed.
And I had a girlfriend.
Rosalyn, of all people.
My little Latina. I couldn't believe I cheated on my little Latina—with Darian.
It was fucked up on so many levels, but I couldn't help but replay the feel of his lips against mine. They were so soft and warm, and I wanted to kiss him again, which was even more fucked up. I shouldn't have been having those thoughts when I had Rosie.
I didn't even know what came over us. We never kissed when we had our little "arrangement," so why the hell did we do so then? Friends didn't kiss each other like that. Straight guys didn't kiss each other like that. What was Darian thinking?
What was I thinking?
All I knew was that it never should have happened.
We were both overwhelmed and let the situation and our emotions get the best of us. It couldn't happen again. No. I already felt like shit for cheating on Rosalyn. I wasn't a cheater. I wasn't a fucking cheater, no matter how sexy and sweet and amazing Darian was.
I wasn't a cheater.
"Kenji?" Rosalyn asked, staring at me from across the table. My head snapped up. "What're you thinking about?"
We were sitting on the living room floor playing a game of Uno.
"Nothing." I shook my head, averting my gaze. I could barely look at her. "Just daydreaming—about you." I looked up briefly.
She smiled, making my stomach sink further. My grip tightened on my seven cards.
After kissing Darian, I felt like shit so much that I couldn't face Rosalyn. It took me days to start hanging out with her again. Even facing her this very moment was a feat. All I could think about as I watched her innocent face and calm demeanor was my betrayal.
Rosalyn was my ride or die chick, and I cheated on her.
Rosalyn and I had a very honest relationship, but I wasn't going to tell her about that kiss. I didn't need to tell her because it was one lapse in judgement that would never happen again. It happened, and I couldn't change that, but I would learn from it.
A small part of me didn't want to change it because I liked the kiss too much, which scared the fuck out of me. What the hell was wrong with me? I cheated on my girlfriend. The last thing I should have been thinking about was how much I enjoyed the act.
I wasn't a cheater. I wasn't a cheater. I wasn't a cheater.
"Ken," Rosalyn said, kicking my leg under the table to get my attention. "We have a game to play. What's the hold up?" She snickered while I ruffled my hair. I didn't even care that I was messing up my look.
