“Right,” I said. “I'll go check on him.”
I turned and beelined straight for the spot where he was sitting at the bar.
His face was now in his hands and he didn't look up when I took the spare stool next to him. It took the bartender sliding another pint in front of his face for him to finally lift his head.
“You might want to slow down,” I said, and Kamran jumped so hard I may as well have shouted in his ear.
He swiveled in his seat toward me, and stared like he was seeing a ghost.
“At this rate, you’re going to end up needing someone to carry you home,” I said, grimacing but choosing to carry on.
He blinked, glared, and then slid me his beer.
Shit. Dave was right. Kamran reallydidlisten to me.
I took a swig of the drink he’d given me, using it to distract from the fact that I could barely look Kamran in the eye today.
Guilt filled me even more than it had been doing all week. He'd shown up here looking even worse than he had yesterday, like he hadn't slept a wink in days, but for some reason even the dark circles under his eyes made him look good. More rugged or something.
God, I was so fucked up for him. Always had been, but now I knew what his lips tasted like, how good his body felt under me…
I glanced over, not meaning to do it, my eyes tracing the curves of his biceps and shoulders and,damn.I appreciated that someone who worked so hard at his day job still found time to work out. He had mostly kept his college form, but softened a bit which only made him look more huggable in my opinion.
Remembering that I wasn’t supposed to be checking him out, for fucks sake, I glanced up.
He wasn't watching me ogle him,thank God. His gaze was fixed absently on the bottles behind the bar. He was scowling and, something told me, reminiscing about something Melissa had really fucked him up bad, hadn’t she?
“You fucked me up,” Kamran said and this time, it was my turn to jump in my seat.
I had to set my drink down before I could look at him, shock and apprehension radiating through me.
Please don’t tell meI’mthe reason you’re like this.
“I'm supposed to be thinking of what to do about my wife,” he went on. “Not my best friend.”
Fuck.
“I'm sorry,” I said, heart in my throat.
He shook his head, grinding his teeth.
“I kissed her today, but she wouldn't kiss me back.”
My stomach twisted, pained for him because it would besoawful to kiss the person who you loved and not have it returned... It hit me then, I had done that last weekend and had my kiss reciprocated. I bit my lip at the thought.
That was why he was thinking about our kiss, wasn’t it? I’d kissed him but his own wife wouldn’t.
“Have—have you spoken to her about everything yet?” I choked.
He shook his head at once.
“Nope. Tried a couple times but never got around to saying point blank that I know what’s going on,” he said. “Part of me thinks that if I ignore it, things might go back to how they were.”
He looked at me, his eyes red.
“They might, right?”
My heart was too fucking weak for this.
