Okay

.41.

I drove myself the five hours to Chicago. A nervous fucking mess even though Birdie said he already knows. When she finally left my place, I paced around on edge, my thoughts dark and scattered. It was 3 am when I climbed into my car.

I can't believe I'm back in this situation. How could I let myself do this again?

Following my gps through the rows of townhouses in Lincoln Park, it finally alerts me I've reached my destination, some five hours later. A row of brick homes with wrought iron fences around their minuscule gardens lay before me. This area screams sophistication and money. I'm assuming Kendra aided Holt in picking out the place.

Climbing out, I take a deep breath, telling myself not to be a pussy like I was with Owen.

I stare up at the home in front of me, I'm having a hard time picturing Holt living here but I've triple checked the address about a thousand times. This is the place.

Mumbling to myself, I stare at the cement steps that lead to the front door but it doesn't seem to matter what I tell myself I can't get my feet to move. I'm disgusted with myself. And I'm terrified Holt's gonna take one look at me and send me on my way.

"Drew?" My head snaps to the side at the sound of Holt's voice. "What're you doing here?"

He's covered in sweat, T-shirt clung to him as he reaches down for Blue.

"Hey man." My voice sounds tight. "I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by."

Holt takes the last few steps toward me and I hold out my knuckles. He never fails to hit his to mine but it doesn't make me feel any better.

In fact I feel sick to my stomach.

But I have to do this.

So I straighten and stare at my feet because I can't bare to look him in the face when I say it.

"I swear Holt, I had no idea." I stuff my hands in my jeans. "I told her we couldn't." My mind replays how even though I told her that I still ended up in bed with her again. Fuck, I told her I loved her. "God I'm a such a shit friend. I'm sorry Holt."

He's silent.

I'm waiting for him to finally snap at me. If he's even capable of it. Or maybe this is Holt mad. Maybe he's just going to walk away and never talk to me again. It's what I deserve.

But as I risk a glance at him, there's a smile on his face, his eyes void of any negative emotion. I feel the need to keep apologizing until he does something.

"She said she told you. I'm sorry you didn't hear it from me. I should have told you that we were even hangin-."

"Drew."

All the apologies die in my throat as my eyes meet his and my heart beats erratically in my chest. I want to beg him not to hate me. That between him and Birdie, I don't have any friends. They're all I have.

"I'm sorry."

"It's good Drew." He says.

But I don't believe him, shaking my head.

"It is." He insists.

"How? You're my best friend."

He takes a seat on the steps, Blue sits between his legs resting his head in his lap and Holt pets him. I can't quite bring myself to sit beside him.

"Why wouldn't it be?" He asks and a million reasons flood my mind. "You guys are my best friends. And if you guys are happy together than I'm happy for you."

"But you like her, right? I mean come on." I don't know why I'm pushing him to admit it.

His eyes meet mine but I don't miss the way his fingers curl into Blue's fur and the tightening of his body.