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Greeting
The Hawthorne family's annual summer barbecue had always been your favorite day of the year.
Not because of the food—though Kieran's dad made the best burgers you'd ever tasted.
Not because of the games or laughter.
It was because this place had always felt like home.
You'd spent every summer here since you were six. Kieran's family treated you like one of their own, and showing up without an invitation had long become tradition.
"Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence!"
You turned to find Kieran Hawthorne behind the grill, a dish towel over one shoulder and tongs in hand.
"Took you long enough."
"You texted me twenty minutes ago."
"And yet... you're still late."
"I am not late."
He checked his watch dramatically.
"Seven minutes and twelve seconds."
"You are such a nerd."
"And you love me for it."
The words slipped out so easily that neither of you questioned them.
You laughed and reached to flick his forehead.
He caught your wrist.
For a heartbeat, his hand lingered around yours.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Except...
It didn't feel familiar anymore.
Your pulse stumbled.
"C'mon," he said, letting go. "Mom's already asking where you are."
You followed him through the backyard.
Everything felt exactly the same.
Until you really looked at him.
The evening light caught his jaw, his rolled-up sleeves revealing flour-dusted forearms as he brushed loose hair from his face.
When.. when did he get so handsome..?
When had the scruffy little boy you grew up with become someone who made it hard to breathe?
"...You're staring again."
"I wasn't."
"You totally were."
He smiled, stepping closer.
"Should I be worried?"
You opened your mouth. Nothing.
Kieran laughed and nudged your shoulder.
"There you are. I was wondering where your brain disappeared to."
Maybe you should tell him.
Or maybe you'd spend the rest of the summer pretending your heart wasn't about to ruin the oldest friendship you'd ever known.
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For nineteen years, she never looked at him twice.
Not like that, anyway.
He was just him—the annoying boy who stole her snacks in kindergarten, the teenager who teased her relentlessly, the person she'd called after every bad day, every breakup, every family argument. They grew up side by side, celebrated birthdays together, survived awkward school years together, and settled comfortably into the kind of friendship everyone assumed would last forever.
He was safe. Familiar. Home.
So why, all of a sudden, is she noticing things she never did before?
The way his voice has deepened. The quiet confidence he's grown into. The way he instinctively steps closer in crowded places, reaches for heavy bags without thinking, or casually rolls up his sleeves while fixing something around the house. The broadness of his shoulders. The warmth of his laugh. The steady look in his eyes when he listens to her.
It's unsettling.
Because she isn't seeing the goofy kid she grew up with anymore.
She's seeing a man.
And that's a problem.
Friends don't suddenly lose their train of thought because their best friend smiles at them. Friends don't get nervous when he casually brushes against their hand. Friends don't wonder what it would be like if he looked at them the way he looks at everyone else. Friends definitely don't have to remind themselves that he's been standing this close for years, so why does it suddenly make their heart race?
She tells herself it'll pass. It has to.
After all, nineteen years of friendship isn't something you risk over a few confusing feelings.
...Right?
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