ral safe place

"So you do find me attractive."

I huff. "Kill me now. Please, someone. Anyone."

"Kids kids, settle down." Natasha rolls her eyes. "We get it, you're both allergic to silence. Can we finish the game before the Penny files a noise complaint?"

"Silence doesn't bother me. He does. It's like a reflex. See Hangman, knock him down a peg." I smirk, playfully glaring at the man in question.

I don't hate Jake. He's just a pain in the ass.

"You know you love me, darlin'." He flashes a toothy grin before turning his attention to Javy who's besides him.

"Oh get over yourself, Bagman." I glance over at the clock on the wall, checking the time. Bradley should be here soon. I try to push down the bubbling feelings beginning to stir at the thought of seeing him again. Thankfully, the group helps me distract myself with their banter.

We're about halfway through the game when Phoenix spots something over my shoulder. I'm mid shot when she calls out the name I've been waiting to here.

"Bradshaw!" She shouts loud enough for him to hear across the bar. "Is that you?"

My hands slightly stumble, sending the ball weakly to the opposite area of where I was trying to send it.

"Damn, Rockstar. You might want to stick to flying, 'cause that was just plain sad." Reuben jokes.

I don't respond. Instead I tightly grip onto the cue stick in my hand, holding it up straight with the bottom on the floor as I turn around.

I'd know that face anywhere.

Bradley pauses his walk, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he looks straight ahead at us. A loose white tank top covers his chest, with one of his signature Hawaiian shirts open over top. His blue jeans hug his muscular thighs, leading down to a pair of scuffed black sneakers. On his right arm rests the black leather watch I gave him for his birthday 4 years ago. His skin is slightly tanner than before, evidence of his time in the sun. A pair of black sunglasses rests comfortably on his nose.

He looks good. Relaxed.

His pause only lasts for a second before he continues to walk towards our group. As he gets closer, a he breaks into a grin and pulls off his sun glasses, clipping them on the neck of his tank top.

The sight of his smile catches my breath and sends the familiar feeling of butterflies tumbling around in my stomach. I hold onto the cue stick just a bit harder, trying to force myself to behave normally.

I clear my throat to push away my nerves. "Long time no see, B." I shoot him a smile.

His eyes soften the second he sees me and he comes closer. "Hey, you," he says, voice low but warm. "Been too long." He pulls me in for a quick hug, something we've done in greeting for years.

Immediately I'm surrounded by the familiar smell of him; the mixed smell of his faded signature ocean scented cologne and laundry detergent. I take it in, relaxing slightly in his arms.

The hug is over quicker then I'd like, and I immediately miss the warmth of his embrace.

"How've you been?" He asks curiously.

I lean back against the pool table slightly. "Same old same old. Can't complain."

His attention shifts to Natasha when she speaks to him. "This is how I find out you're stateside?"

He walks towards her, stopping a little bit behind her. "Yeah, I just thought I'd surprise you." He glances around to take a look at everyone around us.

Natasha prepares herself to take her next shot, lining up the cue stick with the cue ball. "Hm."

The end of her stick jabs him in the gut, causing him to hunch over and instinctively grab his stomach.

"I guess I surprised you back." she teases, turning back around to face the man, a smirk on her lips.

"It's good to see you." He grins before straightening up and patting her uniform covered shoulder.

"Good to see you too."

Bob is about to take a shot when Jake returns, handing Javy a beer before stealing the cue stick from him. "Bradshaw. As I live and breathe." He continues to slowly walk around the pool table, eyeing Bradley slightly.

"Hangman." Bradley greets. "You look...good."

Jake takes a confident shot. "Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good."

I roll my eyes at his cocky tone. The ego on this man.

"In fact, I am too good to be true."

Bradley sends me a small 'is he serious?' look. I give him a tight lipped smile, nodding slightly in confirmation.

The group begins to talk about the upcoming mission, Jake obviously turning the who situation into a big ego boost. The environment is tense when Jake finally decides to head to the other side of the table.

"He hasn't changed." I mutter after taking a step closer to Bradley.

"Not one bit." He confirms with a sigh. He glances towards the other side of the bar where the jukebox is located. "C'mon. It's piano time."

I hand my cue stick to Bob before following after Bradley. He sends me a sneaky grin as he pulls the Jukebox cord from the wall, eliciting annoyed groans from around the room.

Bradley pulls out his classes, setting them back on his face before beginning to play a few notes on the keyboard. The music is beautiful, immediately reminding me of the hours we spent practicing together as children.

"You gonna just stand there, or help me out?" He teases, sliding over for me.

"I don't know if I remember how to play much anymore. It's been a while." I chuckle, taking a seat beside him. "But I can try."

"I'll be here to help you. It'll be a refresher lesson." Bradley reassures me. "Put your hand here, remember?" He gently grabs my hand, positioning it above some of the keys. "We're playing the song."

His dad's song.

"I remember this one." I grin. "We only played it every day."

He chuckles. "It is a good song."

People begin to gather around us, Natasha and our friends included.

I feel the warmth of Bradley's thigh against mine. The contact gives me a buzz, like I've been drinking (even though I'm completely sober) and it's just starting to hit me. I ignore it, focusing on following along with Bradley.

We keep playing as Penny rings the bell, signaling someone's going overboard. The crowd erupts in cheers, chanting 'overboard' over and over again.

"Great to see you Pete!" Penny's voice calls, causing Bradley and I to look behind us at the ruckus.

I catch a glimpse of Jake and Coyote carrying a man out of the bar. Maverick.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Bradley's jaw twitch as he realizes who it is. He doesn't say anything, instead turning his attention back to the piano in front of us.

When he begins to sing, my heart flutters.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane."

I keep playing purely from habit as I feel myself melt into a pile of goo internally.

"You broke my will but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

Our friends and other pilots begin to sing along with Bradley. The environment around me is buzzing with excitement and joy. Thankfully, Bradley's oblivious to my mental shut down. He continues singing, looking straight at the group of our friends crowded around on his side of the piano.

"I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny. You came along and you moved me, honey. I've changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!"

I know I should be singing too, I probably look strange. But I can't. My mind forces me to listen to the words Bradley sings.

"Kiss me, baby. Mmmh, feels good. Hold me, baby. Well, I'm off to love you like a lover should. Oh, you're fine, so kind. Got to tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine!"

The lyrics stab into my heart one at a time. It's just a song.

It's just a song.

The lyrics are not meant for me.

It's his dad's favorite song. It's not for me.

But in this moment, I wish it was more. I wish they were words he meant for me.

"I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs. I'm real nervous, but it sure is fun."

I snap out of my trance when Natasha catches my eye. She sends me a confused look which quickly morphs to understanding.

I force myself to plaster on a grin and sing along with everyone else.

"Come on, baby, you're driving me crazy. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire."

-----

If Bradley noticed I was acting strange during the song, he doesn't mention it.

After the song, the jukebox is plugged back in and we head over to the dart board area with our group. More banter is passed back and forth, helping me calm down from before.

"I'm out." Bradley shakes his beer bottle slightly as he stands up. He glances at the nearly empty bottle in my hands. "Want another?"

I purse my lips. "Do I...yes. Should I? No. I haven't had dinner yet. Probably best if I don't. I wasn't even planning on this one." I sigh, sending the man a lazy smile. "Thanks though, B."

His brows crinkle for a moment, but they quickly smooth out as he nods. "No problem. Phoenix?"

He gestures to the beer in her hands.

"I'm good, thanks."

With that, he turns around and begins his journey to the bar, leaving me and Natasha seated at the table alone. The others are standing a few feet away, completely absorbed in their game and trash talk.

As soon as Bradley's far enough away, Natasha starts to talk. "So...you and Rooster?" She quirks her brow, asking casually.

"What?" I feel heat begin to climb my cheeks. I avoid her gaze. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah, sure." She takes a sip of her drink. "Seems like you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so tense."

I feel my jaw tighten. "We're not dating or anything. It's...I just have a crush." I swallow harshly at the admission. "Please don't tell him." I look into her eyes, pleading slightly.

She nods. "Of course I wouldn't."

I let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you." I bite my lip slightly. "How'd you know?"

"Well," She sends me a small smile. "I've seen you stare at him a bit. Well, not a bit. A lot."

I cringe slightly.

"That kinda got me wondering. Then there was the whole thing with the phone call. I'm guessing that was about him?"

I feel my face heat again at the memory. I'd had one too many drinks and called her to heartbrokenly rant about wishing Bradley liked me back. I didn't use his name though. I had hoped she wouldn't figure it out. "Yeah, it was."

She nods. "And then back there at the piano. It wasn't too hard to piece together what's going on."

I let out an uncomfortable chuckle. "Guess I'm not as secretive as I thought."

"Have you talked to him about it?" She asks.

I shake my head in response.

"Why not? He's a good guy and I have a feeling he might like you too. You won't know until you ask." She tries to encourage me.

"I just don't want to make things awkward, Nat. We've known each other since we were babies. I mean, our moms literally bathed us together. There's a lot of history between us, things we've experienced together. He's my best friend." I sigh in defeat. I don't want to make things awkward between us if he doesn't like me back. What if he's disgusted because he thinks of me like a sister or something? What if he decides he doesn't want me in his life anymore because it's just too weird to be friends with someone who's in love with you? He's the only guy in my life who hasn't let me down. I don't want to take that risk." I admit my fears honestly.

Natasha lets out a slow breath, leaning forward on her elbows. Her eyes are steady, but softer than usual. It's the kind of look she saves for when she's about to say something real.

"Listen to me, Rockstar," she says firmly. "Rooster's not an asshole. Sometimes maybe a hardheaded pain in the ass," She jokes slightly. "but not an asshole. You know that better than anyone. He's not the kind of guy who would intentionally hurt you, and he sure as hell wouldn't just cut you off because of this. I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He cares about you. A lot. Maybe not in the exact way you want, or maybe he does and he's just as oblivious, but either way, he wouldn't throw you away."

She pauses, letting the words sink in, before continuing.

"I get it. You don't want to lose what you have. But hiding this forever? That's going to eat you alive. It already is. Every time you look at him, every time you force yourself to act like it's nothing, you're hurting yourself. If you keep this up, it's just going to get worse."

Natasha reaches out and nudges my arm lightly, grounding me.

"And look… if he doesn't feel the same way? At least you'll know. At least you'll have the chance to close that chapter and move on, instead of torturing yourself with all these 'what ifs.' You deserve more than a lifetime of wondering and hurting in silence. You deserve to be chosen, Rockstar. And if it's not by him, it'll be by someone who sees you the way you want to be seen. But you'll never know unless you take the damn leap."

She gives you a small, knowing smile, a rare softness breaking through her usual tough shell.

"You're braver than this. You always have been."

Deep down I know she's right. All this back and forth, he loves me he loves me not shit is fucking with my brain. It would be nice to know how he really feels. If I do have a chance, or if I'm wasting my life away dreaming of something I'll never have.

I look Natasha in the eye for a minute before letting out a sigh. "I guess you're right." I mutter.

She grins, leaning back into a more casual position on her chair. "I'm always right, Rockstar. You know that." She teases.

I roll my eyes, a small grin playing on my lips. "Yeah yeah, someone's starting to sound a bit like Hangman. Ego much?"

She scrunches her face slightly in disgust. "Comparing me to Hangman? That's painful. Here I was thinking we were friends." She jokes.

"Darlin', it's an honor to be compared to me." Jake's voice catches us off guard. He passes behind us, a new round of drinks in his hands. "Consider yourself lucky." With that, he returns to his friends, leaving us behind.

"Look what you did. You summoned him." Natasha playfully rolls her eyes.

"He's always here at the most inconvenient times." I mutter.

"Damn right." Natasha agrees.

We go back to chatting casually and watching the boys throw darts, occasionally making jabs when one of them says something stupid.

I don't even realize how long Bradley's been gone until a glass of water is slid in front of me.

"They were out of burgers so I had to get the next best thing." Bradley slides a basket of chicken tenders and fries in front of me before sitting down in his original seat with a fresh beer in hand.

My eyes widen at the sight of the food in front of me. "You didn't have to get me anything. I'm fine."

As the aroma of the fried food hits my nose, my stomach betrays me, letting out a soft rumble.

Bradley's brow quirks, a small grin on his face. "Sure you are. I know you, Chuckles."

I roll my eyes at his use of the nickname. He's been calling me that since we were kids.

His smile widens at my reaction. "Besides, couldn't have my best friend dying from alcohol poisoning on me. Not before the Dodgers game in September. We already bought tickets, remember?" He teases.

Best friend

"At least let me pay you back." I go to take my wallet out of my pocket.

Bradley shakes his head, gently pushing my wallet away. "No, it's fine. I owe you for last time, remember?"

I huff but agree, sliding my wallet back into my pocket. "Well...you can have some of my food if you want." I offer.

Bradley grins. "I won't pass you up on that." He snags a fry off my plate.

I chuckle at his behavior. Natasha catches my eye, glancing first at me then down to my food and finally at Bradley. She raises a brow, smirking slightly before taking a sip of her drink.

I ignore her, taking a bite of my food.

This day has been an emotional roller coaster.

-----

Eventually, Jake strolls back toward our group at the dart board, his eyes flicking over the group before landing right on me. His grin is big and shameless, and I already know I'm about to be harassed.

I attack first. "Your friends sick of you already, Bagman?" I ask, not bothering to hold my gaze on him for long. "People tend to get sick of those with ego's the size of Russia."

Jake grins, pressing a hand to his chest like I've wounded him. "Darlin', if I needed constant admiration, I'd just stand in front of a mirror all night."

"Of course you would." I mutter, unamused.

Jake glances over at the dartboard. "Well, well, Rockstar. You lookin' to embarrass yourself at darts too, or was that pitiful pool game earlier enough for one night?" he drawls, leaning his elbow casually on the edge of the dart board.

I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms. "Big words from the human embodiment of a participation trophy."

That earns a chorus of "oohs" and laughter from around us. Natasha chokes on her drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she cackles.

Jake just laughs, unfazed. "Tell you what," he says, straightening up and grabbing a set of darts. "We play. If I win, you owe me a date." His brows jump suggestively. "And if by some miracle you win, I owe you a date. Sound fair?"

I tilt my head, pretending to consider it seriously. "Mmm," I hum sarcastically. "See, if I'm gonna play, it has to be something good enough to make me actually want to try. A date with you? That's more like a punishment."

I hear Mickey snicker. "I think we're witnessing his first rejection. Someone record it for memories."

Jake holds up his hands in mock surrender, smirking. "Alright, alright. You drive a hard bargain, Rockstar. What do you want then? Name it."

I grin slowly, relishing the way he hesitates just for a split second. "Your parking spot at the barracks." He's got the best spot, we all know it.

Someone whistles low.

Jake's eyes widen for a moment. He loves that spot, closest to the door, shaded, practically a gold mine. But he recovers fast, jaw setting stubbornly. "Fine. Deal. But don't start crying when you lose in front of all your friends."

I roll my shoulders dramatically. "Don't worry about me, Hangman. Worry about that precious parking spot of yours."

We step up to the line, the group forming a loose semicircle around us. Bradley stands at the edge, quieter than usual, nursing his beer. I'm too focused on Jake to notice.

Jake throws first. His dart hits a solid 18. He turns to me, eyebrows raised. "Try to keep up, darlin’."

"Don't hurt your shoulder patting yourself on the back, cowboy," I shoot back, stepping forward. "You're the one who's gonna need to keep up."

I focus, ignoring his mocking commentary behind me. The dart soars and lands right on a triple 20.

The group explodes. Phoenix slaps the table so hard her drink almost tips over. "Ohhh shit! Rockstar's here to play tonight!"

Jake's jaw drops slightly, but he recovers, throwing again. This time he gets a 15, muttering something under his breath.

"My grandma could do better than that," I taunt, tossing my next dart, another strong hit.

We keep going, the group shouting playful insults and cheers with every throw. Jake's frustration starts to show, each miss fueling the smugness that bubbles up inside me.

Finally, I nail my last throw, clinching the win. I throw both arms up in victory, spinning to face the group. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you win the best parking spot in the entire damn base!"

Everyone hollers and laughs. Natasha stands and gives me a high five. "Holy shit, Rockstar. Remind me not to challenge you when money's involved."

Jake looks absolutely betrayed. He points at me accusingly. "You're a shark. You’ve been hustling me this whole time!"

"Aw, don't be mad." I give him a mock pout, patting his shoulder. "I'll think of you every time I park my car in that beautiful, shady spot."

"Unbelievable," he mutters, shaking his head but smiling despite himself.

I turn to grab my drink, still riding the high of victory. I finally notice Bradley in my peripheral vision. His expression is tight, eyes fixed on his beer bottle. Before I can say anything, he stands abruptly.

"I'm gonna head out," he announces to no one in particular, setting his empty bottle on the table.

My smile falters. "Already? It's not even 9."

He shrugs and give me a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Long day. I'll see you guys around. Good to see you again, Rockstar."

My stomach twists at the use of my callsign rather than his nickname. He never calls me Rockstar.

"Goodnight, Rooster," Phoenix calls, eyeing him curiously.

He gives a small nod, glancing briefly at me before turning and weaving through the crowd. My chest tightens, a strange pang settling low in my stomach.

I open my mouth to call after him, but no words come out. Instead, I stand there, still clutching my water-the one he got me, my victory suddenly tasting a little bitter.

The group starts talking again, laughing and replaying the game, but my mind is somewhere else.

Watching his broad shoulders disappear into the bar crowd, I realize… maybe he did notice more than I thought.

And maybe… it mattered to him.

Maybe he didn't like seeing Jake flirt with me. Did he like me too?

No. Bradley's not the type to hold back. If he likes someone, he'll ask them out.

It has to be something else.

He doesn't like me. If he did, he would've already made a move.

-----

Bradley's been distant. I don't know if it's because of the bar, the pressure from training or the fact that Maverick's our teacher. Maybe a combination of all.

It's been hard to spend any time with him. He's always got somewhere to go or someone to see. When he's at the bar, he's always busy with the boys or talking to Phoenix. I can tell it confuses her too. They've always been friends, but it seems like he's talking to her more than usual.

I try not to let it bug me. To not let jealousy bloom every time I see him with her, but it's hard.

Phoenix isn't the type to break girl code. She wouldn't hurt me like that.

But that doesn't stop me from feeling jealous.

The sun beats down on my back, sweat dripping down my spine as I sprint across the sand. My lungs burn, but I don't care. The sound of laughter, cheers, and playful curses fills the beach as we crash into each other, tossing the football back and forth in a chaotic mess.

Bradley's here somewhere. I can hear his voice. That deep, easy laugh I know better than my own heartbeat. But lately, it feels like that sound doesn't belong to me anymore.

I catch a glimpse of him near the edge of the game, close to Phoenix. He's grinning, his head thrown back, talking animatedly. She shoves his shoulder playfully, and he bumps her back, his eyes bright.

I try to focus on the game, but my gaze keeps drifting over. What the hell is going on with him lately? He's been so quiet with me. Like he's carefully stepping around something he doesn't want to say.

I'm obviously not interested in Jake. But maybe he didn't take it that way?

But why would that matter? He doesn't like me.

It can't be the whole thing with Jake.

"Rockstar!" Jake's voice snaps me back. He's right in front of me, eyebrows raised, hand extended for the ball.

"Shit," I mutter, tossing it to him quickly.

He snatches it with a smirk. "Daydreamin' again? Thinkin' 'bout me, again, darlin'?" He lets out a tsk sound. "Startin' to think it's a becoming a problem." he teases.

"The only person who dreams about you, is you." I shoot back, pushing past him. "The whole world doesn't revolve around you. Some of us have actual thoughts."

He just laughs, jogs beside me, his smirk unwavering. "You know, offer for that date still stands. We could hit up a real nice seafood place, maybe even catch the sunset after-"

"Pass."

"You sure? Think it over. Might be the best mistake of your life."

"Jake, I'd rather eat sand than go on a date with you." How many times do I have to reject this man before he finally understands.

If my mind wasn't constantly thinking of Bradley, maybe I'd be a bit flattered.

"Ouch," he grins, clutching his chest in mock pain. "Cold-blooded."

Behind him, Bradley's eyes flicker over to us for a split second before he turns back to Phoenix. The dismissal stings more than I expect.

The game continues in a blur of bodies and sand and sun. I tackle Bob at one point, and we both end up coughing on a mouthful of sand. Phoenix laughs so hard she almost drops the ball. I force myself to laugh too, but my eyes find Bradley again. Always.

He and Phoenix stand on the sidelines for a moment, talking like they're in their own world. I can't hear them, but I see the easy way he looks at her, the comfort, the gentle shoves.

The pang in my chest is sharp enough to take my breath away.

When the game finally winds down, we're all sprawled out on towels or leaning against driftwood, catching our breath.

Jake drops down beside me, kicking sand onto my shins on accident. I shoot him a glare. "Haven't filled your quota of annoyingness yet?"

He raises his hands in surrender. "Hey, calm down, killer. Listen…" His voice is quieter now, less teasing. He scratches the back of his neck, eyes flicking over to where Bradley and Phoenix are still standing together.

"I, uh… wanted to say sorry," he starts.

I blink, thrown off. "Sorry? The man is capable of apologizing?" I gasp in faux shock. "Color me impressed. Sorry for what?"

Jake rolls his eyes. "Ha ha. I'm a completely evil dick." He lets out a small, dry laugh. "I'm sorry for the whole 'ask you out every five seconds' routine. I thought you were playin', y'know, hard to get. I didn't realize at first, but… you're really not interested. In me, at least." He looks at me directly now, all that usual swagger gone. "I saw the way you were lookin' at Rooster today. Kinda hard to miss."

My throat tightens, but I don't say anything.

Jake shrugs, softer than I've ever seen him. "Anyway. Didn't mean to make shit harder for you or make you uncomfortable. I won't keep tryin'."

Something twists in my stomach.

I swallow, forcing my voice out. "Thank you, Jake. Really."

He gives me a small, genuine smile. "Don’t mention it." Then he bumps his shoulder lightly against mine. "Still can't believe you smoked me at darts though."

I laugh, the sound a little shaky, and he laughs with me. Maybe Jake's not so bad.

Part of me wishes I did like Jake. He's obviously interested in me. And he might be a cocky asshole sometimes, but he's not completely horrible. He's just a bit like an onion. You've got to peel back the layers to see the real him.

Maybe I'd finally get the love I've wanted for so long. I'd finally be someone else's world, the way Bradley's mine.

After Jake and I talk, the rest of the group slowly starts to pack up. Towels are shaken out, sunscreen bottles tossed into bags, laughter fading into tired sighs. I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my wrist, stealing another glance toward Bradley.

Phoenix has already wandered off to grab water with Bob, leaving him standing alone near the driftwood.

Before I can think too hard about it, Bradley catches my eye and nods toward the waterline.

"Walk with me?" he calls out, his voice almost shy under the afternoon sun.

I hesitate for a second, then force my legs to move. "Sure."

We walk along the edge of the waves, our footprints overlapping and fading behind us. The hush of the ocean is the only thing filling the silence at first.

He clears his throat. "You played good today."

I scoff lightly, trying to keep my voice casual. "You mean I kicked ass. You were too busy talking with Phoenix to notice." I fail to hide my bitterness.

He winces slightly, like he wasn't expecting me to say that out loud. "Yeah… about that."

My stomach tightens.

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing down at the sand as we walk. "Can I… ask you something? Like, your honest opinion?"

My throat feels like it's closing, but I nod anyway. "Yeah. Of course."

He takes a breath, his brows furrowed. "What do you think of Phoenix? I mean, as a person."

I blink, my steps faltering. "Phoenix? She's awesome. Confident, badass, smart as hell. Why?"

My heart pounds as I begin to sense where this is going.

He hesitates, and for a moment I think maybe he'll drop it, maybe he'll say something else, something I've been dying to hear.

But then he looks at me, and I see something nervous and vulnerable flicker behind his eyes.

"I was thinking… about asking her out," he says.

The words hit me like a damn truck. Of course.

Of course.

It'll never be me. It'll never be, 'Do you want to go out with me?'.

I stop walking. My heart plummets straight to my feet, leaving a hollow space in my chest.

Why am I such a fool? Why do I keep waiting for something that'll never happen.

I guess it's a good thing I didn't follow through with Natasha's advice. Bradley doesn't like me. He likes her. If I had told him how I felt, it would've just been humiliating for the both of us.

"Oh," I manage to croak out, forcing my lips into something that might pass as a smile. "Wow. Um… if that's what you want to do, you should do it."

He looks surprised at how quickly I answer, like he was expecting me to stop him.

"You sure? I just… I guess I wanted your blessing or something," he mumbles, scratching at his wrist like he always does when he's anxious. "You know me better than anyone. And she's our friend. I didn't want to make things weird."

I force out a laugh that sounds like it might break into pieces. "Bradley, you don't need my approval to ask someone out. Who am I to tell you what to do? If that's what you want, you should go for it."

His jaw tenses, eyes scanning my face. Maybe looking for something, anything, that says don't.

But I don't give it to him. I can't.

He's my best friend. I want him to be happy. I want him to love who he wants to love.

Even if it's not me.

He nods slowly, swallowing hard. "Yeah… thanks. Really. I just think...she's great. That she'd be a great girlfriend. Plus she's pretty." He avoids my gaze.

It's for the best. If he were to look at me, he'd see my heart break in a million pieces.

His words are true. And I wish I could be mad at her, but I can't be. It's not her fault he feels the way he does. Phoenix is great. She's smart, talented...funny. And she is pretty. She's a great girl.

It just hurts hearing it from him.

I feel my hands start to shake, so I clench them into fists by my sides. "I should probably head out. Gotta clean up before tonight."

"Hey-" he calls after me as I start to turn away.

I pause, refusing to look back.

"Will I… see you at the bar later?" His voice is softer, almost hopeful.

I take a shaky breath. "Yeah. I'll be there. Always am, aren't I?"

My last words are quiet and bitter. Because they're true.

I'm always there for Bradley.

No matter how bad it hurts.

-----

The bar is loud tonight. Everyone's laughing and tossing darts, music thumping in the background. I'm perched on a barstool near the edge of the group, nursing a single beer that's gone warm ages ago.

I try to listen to Bob and Reuben arguing over some stupid sports stat, but my mind drifts. I just can't fake being interested right now. I don't have the energy too.

My conversation with Bradley earlier completely drained me.

Speaking of the man, my eyes keep wandering to Bradley, who's standing with Phoenix and Coyote near the jukebox. He's laughing at something she says, his head tipped back, hand resting on his hip.

I swallow hard, staring down at the condensation sliding down my bottle.

"Hey." Jake's voice cuts into my thoughts. He slides into the seat next to me, draping an elbow on the bar. "You okay, Rockstar?"

I force a small smirk, trying to wave him off. "Peachy, Bagman."

His brow lifts, skeptical. He follows my gaze across the room and lets out a quiet, knowing sigh.

"You know…" he starts carefully, leaning in so only I can hear. "Even if it's not me… you deserve someone who actually sees you. Someone who wants you back."

My breath catches, and I look at him, really look. There's no smirk tonight, no cocky glint in his eye. Just sincerity.

"If Bradshaw can't see what he's got right in front of him," Jake continues, his voice softer than I've ever heard it, "maybe it's time to let him go. Or at least… stop lettin' him take up so much space in that big heart of yours."

I try to laugh, but it comes out shaky. "Didn't know you were such a therapist. This is a completely different side of you...weirdly kind."

He grins faintly and shrugs. "Got layers, darlin'. Lots of 'em. Contrary to popular belief, I've been in your position before. I've had my share of heartbreak. I know what it feels like to not be picked. I know how much it sucks." His voice is full of sincerity.

I shake my head, biting down hard on my lip to stop it from trembling. "Thanks, Jake. Really. That's very kind." I let out a small huff of laughter. "I think I'm starting to like this side of you, the non-asshole side."

He chuckles. "Don't get used to it. I don't show my layers often." He reaches out and pats my shoulder, a gentle, friendly squeeze that actually feels comforting.

When I glance back across the room, I see Bradley watching us.

Immediately, my mood drops again.

His jaw ticks, his fingers flexing at his sides. He mutters something to Phoenix and then tugs her aside, away from the others.

Phoenix's gaze snaps to me, her eyes wide and confused as Bradley talks rapidly to her. He sends her a charming smile-one I've only seen once or twice before, the one he uses when he's flirting or asking a girl out. The one he never uses on me.

I can't hear him, but I don't need to. The second Phoenix's eyes go even wider and her jaw drops, I know exactly what's happening.

He's doing it. He’s asking her out.

My stomach lurches. My head feels like it's filling with water, all the sounds around me muffled. I need to get out of here. I didn't want to see it all play out, him asking her out. I'd been hoping I'd be drunk enough to forget it when the time came.

I slide off the stool, nearly tripping over my own feet. Jake's voice follows me. "Whoa, hey, you good?"

"I-I've gotta go," I stammer, brushing past him. "Sorry. 'Night, Hangman."

He calls after me, concern in his tone, but I don't stop. Bob and Natasha turn to look, brows furrowing as they see my glassy eyes. I keep moving, trying to force my face to stay stoic.

Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see Phoenix's lips moving, I think I hear her voice, sharp and surprised. Maybe she's saying no. Maybe she isn't. I can't stay to find out.

I shove open the bar door, stumbling out into the cool night air. My vision blurs as I press a palm to my forehead, trying to force back the wave of nausea crawling up my throat.

I usually handle this better. I don't get so...emotional.

To be fair, he's rarely ever asked a girl out in front of me. I've seen it maybe once.

That time was painful too.

I hear the door slam open behind me.

"Hey!" Phoenix's voice calls.

I turn just enough to see her storming toward me, dragging Bradley with her.

My heart stutters so violently I swear I can hear it echo. What the fuck is going on?

Phoenix drags Bradley right up to me, her hand locked tight around his wrist like he might try to bolt.

"Alright, enough of this bullshit," she snaps, glaring between the two of us. "You two need to talk. Right now."

Bradley's eyes are wide, clearly not expecting this. I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off before I can get a single word out.

"This is getting ridiculous," she huffs, shifting her weight like she's too frustrated to stand still. "You're both being so damn oblivious and handling this in the worst way possible. All you're doing is hurting each other, and for what? Because you're scared? Because you're too stubborn to admit what's in front of your faces?"

She turns sharply to Bradley, jabbing a finger at his chest. "And you-seriously? You thought asking me out was the move? Really? Newsflash: I'm not interested. And you're not interested in me either. You know that. You're just trying to fill some hole in your heart because you're terrified of what you actually feel. You think I don't see that? You think I don't know you better than that? I'm not stupid, Bradshaw."

Bradley's jaw works, but no sound comes out.

"And you know it wouldn't work. It hasn't worked in the past, and it sure as hell won't work in the future," she spits, shaking her head in disbelief.

She swings her gaze to me, eyes softening just slightly. "I had no idea he was gonna pull that shit, okay? I would never try to hurt you. You're my friend. I wouldn't step in the middle of this mess if I thought for one second it was real between him and me."

My throat tightens as I stare at her, feeling like I might collapse from the weight of everything crashing over me.

She huffs out a breath and shifts her focus back and forth between us, her voice dropping low and firm. "You need to talk to him. Work this out. Stop running from it. You should've done it the night at the bar when I told you to. Because this dance? This bullshit back-and-forth? It's killing you both. Ask literally anyone inside. They'd tell you they either think you two are already dating or they know you're head over heels for each other. Mickey and Reuben were literally placing bets on who'd break first and ask the other out."

She steps back a pace, folding her arms across her chest. "It's not hard to see, you know. You both light up around each other. You both look at each other like you hung the damn moon. You're in love with each other. Both of you. And it's about damn time you stop being blind to it."

Bradley's eyes flick to me then, something raw and terrified hiding behind them.

Phoenix rolls her eyes one last time, spins on her heel, and starts toward the bar door.

She throws a hand up over her head without looking back. "If you two come back inside and you're not dating, I will personally throw both your asses out of the bar until you are. Figure it out!"

The door slams behind her, leaving us alone.

The night air is heavy and still, and for a moment, neither of us can seem to move or breathe.

We stand there in the thick, stunned silence Phoenix left behind. My heart hammers so loud it echoes in my ears.

Finally, I can't take it anymore.

"What the hell just happened?" I breathe out, my voice shaky and small.

Bradley laughs, but there's no humor in it, just exhaustion and pain. "I… I don't even know," he mutters, running a hand over his face.

I shake my head, frustration bubbling up. "Why have you been so distant lately? You just… stopped talking to me. You started hanging around Phoenix more. I didn't understand."

His head snaps up. "You didn't understand?" he echoes, his voice rough. "What about you and Hangman? You think that didn't mess with my head? Watching him all over you, and you just- you didn't push him away. Not really."

I step forward, frowning. "I did! I shut him down every time! You think I wanted that attention?"

"It sure looked like it sometimes," he says, softer now, but his words still sting.

"Bradley," I say, my voice trembling, "I thought you didn't care about me like that. I thought I was just… your best friend. The safe one. The one you never looked at like that."

He shakes his head, stepping closer. "You think I didn't care?" His voice cracks, eyes searching mine.

"You never showed it!" I say, my breath coming fast. "You never flirted, never asked me out, never gave me a hint that you saw me as anything more than a friend. What was I supposed to think?"

"I've always cared about you," he blurts out, his voice breaking open. "That's why I've always been there. You really think I do that for everyone? You think I sneak into my other friends' windows in the middle of the night with soup when they're sick?"

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

He keeps going, voice rising with every word. "You remember that night in high school- you texted me, said you were too sick to go to the basketball game the next day. You said your mom was working and you'd be fine alone. I couldn't just leave you like that. I snuck out, climbed through your window with a couple cans of soup and crackers. You fell asleep on my shoulder, and I stayed there all night to make sure you were okay. You think I'd do that for just anyone?"

"Bradley, I'm going to get you sick. You shouldn't have come." I mutter, my head hazy.

We're half lying half sitting at the head of my bed. My exhausted body is tucked into his side, shivers wracking through me every now and then. I lean on him slightly, my head resting against his shoulder and my arm wrapping around his waist, looking for any sort of comfort.

Bradley tenderly strokes the hair out of my face. His words are soft and comforting. "I don't care, Chuckles. If you're sick... I'll be sick with you. As long as I'm with you."

"And your birthday two years ago," he continues, his voice almost shaking now. "I drove to three different towns to find that stupid brand of chocolate you love. Three. Because the store's in town and nearby sold out and weren't getting anymore shipments, and I knew it would make you happy. You think I spend my weekends hunting for candy for my other friends?"

"B, where'd you get these?" I ask excitedly, turning the package over in my hands. "I thought the company went out of business."

Bradley smirks, his eyes glimmering in amusement. "I have my ways."

"I hope they weren't too hard to find."

"Nah, took me like an hour. Tops."

He takes another step closer, eyes locked on mine, voice soft but fierce. "I don't stay up at night thinking about my friends, about how much I want to kiss them or hold them. I don't think about what it would be like to wake up next to them every day. I don't... I don't love them the way I love you. It's always been you." He lets out a soft sigh. "And I did try, to move things in a romantic way. You shut me down."

My brows furrow in confusion. "What? When?"

His jaw tightens, like he's dredging up something he's carried for years. "7th grade. Remember that party at Megan's house? We played Seven Minutes in Heaven. We got paired together."

A memory sparks in my mind like a match.

We're shoved into that cramped linen closet, our knees bumping in the dark. I remember the hush of our breathing, both of us so nervous we started rambling about anything- school, video games, the stupid horror movie playing downstairs. We'd never been put in a situation like this, one where things could move from platonic. The closet smelled like detergent and dust, and my heart felt like it might explode.

At this point in my life, I'd never been kissed before. I didn't know what to do. What to say. How to begin. My only experiences with it were from seeing kissing in movies or from PDA showing couples in the hallway.

Then, finally after our conversation faded away, Bradley leaned in and asked to kiss me. When I nodded yes, he gently pulled my jaw towards his, and kissed me. Soft and hesitant. My first real kiss.

I remember pulling back too quickly, my skin hot, my mind spinning with panic. When we stepped out, the girls were all giggling, asking me how it was. I laughed it off, my cheeks burning, and brushed them off.

Back then, I didn't know what to do with the feelings crashing inside me, didn't know how to say I liked it, that I liked him. That I'd wish he'd do it again. I just panicked.

"I thought you liked it at first, like I did." he continues, voice strained. "Then I heard you with the other girls afterward. You acted like it didn't mean anything. You joked about it, said I was just your friend. You even said you liked another guy."

The voices of my middle school peers echo through my mind. "Who do you like? Is it Bradley?" Someone asks with a giggle.

I glance around the group, my eyes landing on one of my friends. I knew she liked Bradley. I knew she'd be heartbroken if I told her I liked him. That's why when she told me she had a crush on him, I didn't say anything. "Dylan." I lie through my teeth, guilt gnawing at my stomach for not telling the truth. "I like Dylan. I mean, he's really good at football. I like guys who are good at football."

My lips part, shock crashing over me.

"I thought that was it," he says quietly, looking away like he can't bear to see my face. "I thought you didn't want me like that. I didn't play football. I wasn't blonde like him. That I wasn't good enough, and you'd never see me as more than your goofy best friend."

My mind is reeling, my heart tearing open at the seams. I had no idea. "Bradley… I didn't know," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I didn't know you thought that. That kiss- that was my first kiss. I was so nervous I didn't know how to react. I lied about not liking you because I thought you liked Megan. and I knew she definitely liked you back. I didn't want to embarrass myself or make her upset."

His eyes snap back to mine, wide, stunned.

"You… you liked it?" he asks, like he's afraid to believe it.

"I loved it," I confess, my voice trembling. "I was terrified and stupid and didn't know how to handle it, but I loved it. I loved you. I thought you hated it. I mean, you avoided me for a week after."

"Because I thought you regretted it." He frowns.

"I didn't. I still-"

"I was going to ask you out," he says quietly. "Before Jake started hanging around, I was finally going to do it. To try again, see if maybe things had changed. I mean, we're older now so I was hoping maybe you'd see me differently. When I came back, all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I need you in my life."

My lips part, but no words come out.

"But then I saw him," he continues, voice low and breaking. "And I thought… maybe he's what you deserve. Maybe he could give you everything I can't. I didn't think I was good enough for you. I never have."

Tears start to spill down my cheeks, hot and relentless. "Bradley," I whisper. "I never liked Jake. I thought that was obvious. I turned him down every time. I only wanted you. I've always only wanted you."

He stares at me, stunned, like he can’t quite process what I just said. "I've always only wanted you too..."He whispers.

A watery laugh bubbles up in my chest despite the tears. "God, we're so stupid," I choke out, shaking my head.

Bradley lets out a breathy, shaky laugh too, his shoulders dropping. "Yeah," he agrees, a soft smile breaking through all the heartbreak on his face. "We're really fucking stupid."

He takes a step closer, eyes softening. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. "I'm so damn sorry for all of this. For not talking to you sooner. For making you think you weren't enough, or that I didn't want you. I was just so scared that you wouldn't feel the same, that I'd lose you completely."

I don't even bother with words. I just surge forward, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him into me, kissing him like I've been dying to for years.

His hands come up to cradle my face, and he kisses me back just as desperately, like he's trying to make up for all the time we've wasted.

When we finally pull away, gasping for air, I press my forehead to his, breathless and trembling. "I've been wanting to do that for so damn long," I whisper.

His thumb brushes over my cheek, his eyes burning into mine. "Yeah?" he whispers back, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Me too."

I giggle, leaning in for another quick kiss before he pulls back, grinning like an idiot. "So… was that better than middle school?" he teases, his breath still ragged.

I roll my eyes, laughing despite myself. "Way better," I say, swatting lightly at his chest.

He chuckles, pressing another soft kiss to my lips. "Good," he murmurs against my mouth. Then he pulls back, his eyes serious but bright. "Can I… can I finally take you out on a real date? Like, an actual, proper date?"

My heart clenches in the best way possible, and I nod, smiling so wide it almost hurts. "Yes. Please."

A sudden burst of muffled cheering makes us both turn our heads sharply.

Near the window, Phoenix and the rest of the group are all pressed up against the glass, faces smushed and eyes wide.

Mickey groans loudly and slaps a crumpled bill into Reuben's waiting hand while Reuben whoops and pumps a fist into the air.

I guess we know who won the bet.

I groan, hiding my face in Bradley's chest as he laughs, shaking his head. "Guess we had an audience," he mutters, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Of course we did," I mumble, my cheeks burning.

We both laugh, a little embarrassed but so stupidly happy that we can't seem to care.

-----

We ended up going back inside and thankfully weren't thrown out by Phoenix. We got another drink at the bar and decided to talk. Really talk.

I swirl my drink, trying to work up the nerve. "When did you… I mean, when did you first know? That you liked me?"

Bradley's eyes flick up, softening as he watches me. He lets out a small breath, almost like a laugh, and shakes his head.

"Do you remember that Valentine's Day in third grade?" he starts, voice gentle. "When you came home crying to your mom because that kid you had a crush on gave a valentine to some other girl?"

I nod slowly, my brows pulling together. "Yeah?"

His lips twitch like he's embarrassed, but he pushes on. "And then I showed up with a little pink bear and a box of candy… told you that kid asked me to drop them off for you. Said he meant to give 'em to you the whole time, but Karrie walked up and kinda messed it all up."

My eyes widen, the realization hitting me like a wave. I knew that handwriting looked familiar. "Wait… are you saying-"

He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the floor for a second before meeting my gaze again. "He never asked me to do anything," he says quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "I just… I saw how crushed you were, and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't understand why someone would do that to you, break your heart like that. So I took the birthday money my mom gave me, walked all the way to the corner store, and got you that chocolate and bear. Spent thirty minutes trying to pick a bear you'd like the most. Wrote a card, tried to make it look different from my handwriting so you wouldn't figure it out."

"Oh Bradley..." I give him a soft smile. "I had no idea."

He grins. "That was the point. Didn't want you to be sad." He gently holds my gaze. "That's the day I knew I'd do anything for you. Anything to make you happy. You could've asked me for the damn moon, and I would've tried to find a way to get it to you. It wasn't that I liked you... it was much deeper then that. I realized that I fell in love."

I feel heat crawl up my cheeks at his words. "That's so sweet."

"It's still true. My feelings haven't changed." He takes a sip of his drink, not breaking eye contact with me. "What about you? When did you realize?"

I bite my lip, a smile breaking onto my face. "I've been thinking about it a lot, trying to pin down a moment where it all began. There's been so many thing's that've happened that I think have made me fall deeper and deeper with you." I admit shyly.

Bradley's smile widens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I nod. "But I think it started when you sat by my side every day for a month when my dad died. You didn't try to make me go out or play a game. You were just there when I needed you the most. That's when I knew you had a good heart and I always wanted to be with you. And that I wanted to be there for you the same way you were there for me."

Bradley takes my hand, gently stroking his thumb across the top. "Now we can both always be there for each other, Chuckles."

I laugh slightly. "What's with the whole Chuckles thing anyways? I don't think you've ever told me."

His face lights up. "I call you Chuckles, because I love when you laugh."

I feel my heart melt at his explanation. That's so sweet.

"Oh get a room." Coyote teases as he finally gets his beers from Penny. I hadn't realized he'd been here for so long, listening to us.

I feel my face heat up for the millionth time tonight.

Bradley stands up still holding his hand in mine. "Let's play some pool?"

I nod, letting him lead me towards the pool tables. "You know, our mom's are never going to let us live this down."

Bradley chuckles, the warm sound filling my heart with joy. "Oh I know. We're going to here 'I called it' from both of them forever."

I hum in agreement. "Forever, huh?"

Bradley glances back at me. "Yeah. Forever. That's how long I want to love you."

I feel a wide smile break onto my face. "Well you're in luck. That's how long I want to love you."

He pulls me in, wrapping his arms around me. His nose is inches away from mine when he speaks, his tone low and soft. "I guess it all works out the, doesn't it Chuckles."

"I guess so, B." I whisper.

His lips meet mine and bursts of fireworks explode in my stomach. I close my eyes and lean into his touch, letting myself feel the moment. His hand gently cups my jaw, rubbing soft circles on my skin.

I guess everything does work out in the end.

----

"You okay, baby?" You cooed. He was just so....pretty. Sunkissed hair damp from sweet, the ends curling. Face contorted in pleasure as you worked yourself up and down on his cock.

"Y-yeah. Y'just feel s'good," his words were slurred. But Rhett hadn't drank any alcohol tonight. No, he was drunk off of you, off of your pussy that had a vice grip on him.

"You're such a sweet cowboy." Raising yourself up until you were almost off his cock, you paused for a few moments before slamming down.

"F-fuck!" He thrusted upwards, cock spasming as he came undone, "Just l-like that...oh....God."

"That's not my name, but I'll allow it," you smirk, enjoying how his mouth hung open, nothing but groans falling out. His arms covered his face, something you'd have to reprimand him for later.