I’ve known him half my life and I’ve spent half my life fighting my feelings for him. Our relationship isn’t typical nor is it normal; it’s just us. He knows every crevice of me; my likes, my hates, my needs, my quirks. I don’t know what changed but nothing is the same as it was. The closer I fly towards the fire, the more I fear I’ll get burned.
I took her virginity and we’ve been inseparable since. Best friends for over seventeen years, she’s seen me at my best, at my worst and everywhere in between. The primal need that fills me deep inside to protect her, to claim her is getting more and more difficult to ignore. When did friendship morph into something more? Or were the lines always this blurred?
When our pasts finally collide with the present, how do we survive the crossfire?
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