Easton hid his disinterested sigh by tilting the champagne glass toward his lips—which contained ginger ale for his nervous stomach—and pretended to take a drink. For the past two weeks, the most sleep he’d gotten in a night was a couple of hours. He spent most of the time in the pool or avoiding Riley. After what happened at the hospital stairwell, he couldn’t face his best friend. He’d forced the issue when he should have been calm. He allowed his temper to get the better of him. The shame he felt was absolute.
Maybe Riley had been right all along. A relationship between them was a complicated animal filled with unstable emotions. At least as friends they could rein themselves in. He’d been too selfish, clinging to the idea of Riley loving him back too tightly. All that tension snapped
