My Player Bestfriend (Book #1)

Chapter Sixteen

The universe has a sick sense of humor.

Because I'd spent the last week trying to avoid Austin — keeping my phone silent, walking different routes, even skipping hangouts I normally lived for.

But of course, the second I decided to breathe again, he showed up.

Unannounced.

At my house.

In the middle of a rainstorm.

I was halfway through folding laundry in my oversized hoodie and mismatched socks when the doorbell rang.

I thought it was Sarah. Maybe Jackie. Someone who wouldn't make my chest cave in when I opened the door.

But then I saw him.

Soaked. Hood down. Hair dripping. Like some movie cliché — except this wasn't scripted. It was just real, messy, and way too close to the heart.

"Austin," I said, my voice flat. Guarded.

He didn't flinch.

"I know you said you needed space," he started, "but I can't keep waiting around wondering if you're ever gonna let me back in."

I crossed my arms. "You showing up here doesn't fix anything."

"I'm not here to fix it," he said. "I'm here to face it."

The silence between us was heavier than the rain.

"Do you even know what you're asking me for?" I whispered.

He stepped forward, hands slightly raised like he was trying not to scare me off.

"I'm asking you to stop pretending you're okay without me," he said quietly. "I'm asking you to admit that you still feel it too."

And there it was.

The pull.
The ache.
The memory of what it felt like to be his — to be held like I was the only thing anchoring him.

"I hate you," I whispered.

He blinked. "No, you don't."

"I do," I snapped. "Because I still love you and it makes me feel stupid."

His shoulders dropped. "You're not stupid."

"No? Then why does loving you feel like the dumbest thing I've ever done?"

He didn't answer.

Because we both knew the answer.

Because love isn't always enough.

I let him inside.

Mostly because I didn't want the neighbors watching this part of my emotional unraveling.

He stood in my living room like a ghost that never really left. So familiar. Too familiar.

I sat on the couch. He stayed standing.

"I need to know something," I said, voice quieter now. "When you cheated... was it just sex?"

He looked gutted.

"No," he said. "It wasn't even that good. It wasn't about her."

"Then what was it about?"

His voice cracked. "It was about me being stupid and scared. You were everything real in my life, and I didn't think I deserved it. So I sabotaged it before you could realize that too."

I stared at him for a long time.

"I want to believe you," I said. "But every time I close my eyes, I picture you with her."

He stepped closer.

"I think about you every single day. I think about your laugh, your messy buns, your ridiculous snack combinations—"

"I still dip popcorn in Nutella," I murmured.

He smiled, but his eyes stayed sad. "Of course you do."

Silence again.

He sat down next to me.

Not too close. Just... there.

"If you need me to walk away forever, I will," he said. "But if even one part of you wants to try again — if there's even a sliver of space left for me — I'll stay. And I'll earn it back. Every piece."

My heart was racing.

Not from romance.

From fear.

Because what if I let him in again, and it all fell apart worse than before?
What if I couldn't recover twice?

But then I looked at him.

And I saw the boy who once held me while I cried over college rejections.
The guy who stayed up all night making me a playlist when my mom got sick.
The boy who called me Boo like it meant something sacred.

And maybe... just maybe... it still did.

"I'm not saying yes," I told him.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Okay."

"But I'm not saying no either."

He looked up — hopeful, but cautious.

"You don't get to just walk back in and flip a switch," I added.

"I don't want a switch," he said. "I want us. Even if we have to start from scratch."

I didn't say anything.

I didn't kiss him.

I didn't fall into his arms.

I just leaned over, handed him a dry hoodie from my drawer, and said quietly, "You can stay for a little while. Nothing more."

And somehow...
That was everything.