What If

He was quiet.

“Okay, that’s a lie… I haven’t been that busy,” I admitted.

“Want to tell me why you stopped?” he said each word with short precision. I never responded well when he took on that tone. It always rubbed me the wrong way, like he turned off his emotions and made himself a robot who couldn’t feel and instead only thought with logic instead of his heart.

“The distance is getting to me,” I said, giving him the smallest part of the truth.

“I’d like to know how you’re going to deal with me being deployed or stationed somewhere farther away. Are you just going to completely end our friendship? Is it that easy for you?” he sneered.

“How dare you! Nothing about this is easy! I miss you. Every. Single. Day. I’m constantly wondering what you’re doing, if you are okay! That’s all I think about!” I yelled. “You don’t get to judge me for how I handle all of this, okay? When was the last time you sat down and really wrote to me, Arrow?”

“Briar, I have more than just you I have to send letters to,” he argued.

“Oh, don’t I know it!” I hollered. “You have Lacey! Believe me, Arrow, I haven’t forgotten.”

He growled into the receiver causing my back to straighten and eyes to narrow.

“Come or don’t come to my graduation, Briar. If you’re there, great. If you’re not there, then I guess we learned just how weak this friendship was anyway, right?”

“Are you threatening me? Seriously… This is the first time I’ve talked to you in months and you’re giving me an ultimatum? If I don’t come, our friendship is over? Just like that?” I asked, angry tears stinging my eyes, my throat tightening and stomach dropping.

“It’s not a threat, and it isn’t an ultimatum. It’s a fact. If you aren’t here, it’s only the proof that solidifies how easily you let go of this,” he reasoned.

“You’re being an ass,” I seethed.

“You’re being a shit friend,” he combated.

Eyes widening, both hands fisting, one of them gripping my phone harder than necessary, I was stunned. How dare he.

“I have to go,” he mumbled. “I have to call Lacey.”

Her name was the final straw. I moved the phone away from my face, and then I launched my phone at the wall, down the stairs. I heard the crunch of the screen hitting the brick wall. I watched the tiny, black, plastic pieces scatter on the floor.

The scream, which echoed through the halls of the apartment complex, sounded animalistic and wounded. I slid to the carpeted floor, my butt hitting it hard, but I barely felt the sting. I leaned against the wall by the door of Killian’s place, which opened up swiftly. He came running outside, looking anxious and ready to hurt someone.

When he saw me looking broken and tired, his features morphed into one full of compassion and… love. He loved me. It was written all over his face like a book lying open on a nightstand. I don’t know how I missed it before, how I didn’t recognize that emotion when I’d felt that same intense thing for my best friend, but there it was… staring at me.

I stood with wobbly legs and walked up to Killian, his eyes never leaving mine but his arms reaching out for me, ready to catch me if my legs gave out. When I was wrapped up in his long arms, we retreated into his apartment. When the door closed, I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his, slowly at first and then with fervency. I pushed him down to the couch and crawled on top of him, grinding into his quickly hardening cock. I moved down, pressing my lips against every piece of skin from his neck to the top of his collared shirt.

“Hey, slow down,” Killian said.

I didn’t listen. I continued on my path, pushing his shirt up to his chest and licking down his stomach. I reached for the button on his jeans.

“Briar, you’re not ready,” he muttered.

I ignored him and flipped open the button and lowered his zipper.

Then, he sat up and pulled me into his chest, halting me from going further. His hands held my arms behind me.

“Stop,” he commanded, looking into my eyes. His blue eyes were pooled with desire and frustration. “I don’t know what just happened out there, but you’re reacting to it by trying to get closer to me. That’s not how this is going to happen.” He shook his head back and forth. I yanked at my arms trying to get them loose. “I’m not letting you go until you swear to stop with this. Let me hold you; talk to me, tell me what happened.”

The urgency to let somebody love my body left in a whoosh. I deflated in his arms, every muscle relaxed. My lips fell into a frown. He was right; I was hurt and feeling needy. I wanted to get back at Arrow by doing what he’d done to hurt me. He didn’t know it, but I was still wounded from when he slept with Lacey. Mentioning her name on the phone, telling me his parents were driving her to his graduation, that he was getting off the phone with me so he could call her was taking that wound that had only just begun to heal and reopening it, causing it to become infected and inflamed.

I refocused on the ocean blue eyes in front of me, the eyes of one guy who offered a balm to soothe my aching ailments. For the first time since Arrow, I thought, I might be able to love again.





Staying pissed off at Briar was never an easy feat when I was forced to see her every day in high school. We’d yell at each other, be completely furious, then come to school the next day and all that anger had dissipated.

Every day that I don’t see her feels like another mile put in between us in a physical sense as well as emotional. Not seeing her, not having her in my line of vision or having the availability to touch her or read her expressions was making it a whole lot easier to stay mad.

In fact, I was more than mad. I was livid. I was snapping at my new friends and having a hell of a time trying to keep from spitting venom at my drill sergeants. The fury in my veins made me work harder than I had before. I was kicking ass at our field training and even adding some lifting in my free time. I meant what I said to Briar on the phone; she either showed up or she didn’t. If she didn’t, I was done with this shit. The jealously running deep inside me, knowing she dated another guy, was driving me to insanity. Knowing she would never love me the way I did her hurt but I was willing to have only a friendship with her. But that would only work if I knew she at least cared enough about me to put in effort. When we were handed our mail last Sunday and I didn’t have a single letter from Briar, I thought something horrible must had happened to her. I had pleaded with my commanding officers to let me have one phone call just one to make sure she was okay. They all refused. They told me if something tragic had happened I would’ve been informed.

My imagination got the best of me. I couldn’t sleep through the night without knowing why she stopped writing me. I came up with excuses for her, wanting to believe this had to be an accident - excuses like her letters got lost in the mail, her parents took the letters before they could be retrieved and sent. I even allowed myself to accept that she had possibly gone on vacation with a friend.

When I called, I hoped she’d confirm that I was correct, that she wouldn’t just stop writing me without a good reason. But I wasn’t right. She stopped because this was too much for her. She didn’t care enough for me to work through this. I wasn’t enough for her. It was like a kick to my fucking balls when she admitted that it wasn’t because she was busy, but instead because it was just “too hard.” Did she think this was going to be some walk in the park? That the time would simply fly by and everything would be effortless and uncomplicated?