The Friendship Equation

  The Friendship Equation

  J.R. Gray

  The Friendship Equation

  Copyright © 2021 by JR Gray

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Image: https://www.shutterstock.com/

  Cover Design: Rebel Ink Co

  Editing: Charlie Knight

  Proofing: Victoria

  Formatting: Gray Books

  Because being in love with your best friend is the best thing ever.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Also by J.R. Gray

  Acknowledgments

  About J.R. Gray

  One

  Fluorescent lights glared down on muscular, tanned, and dripping wet bodies as we climbed onto the swim blocks and waited to be called to our marks. One of our biggest meets of the year hinged on this race.

  The quiet pressed tight around us. A collective held breath in the room waiting for the race to begin. My heart hammered in my ears. Fingers curled tightly around the metal, bent in a racer start. I’d done it hundreds of times but this one felt different.

  I glanced over, locking eyes with my best friend, Harden, two lanes over. He wore an easy smile. Even up against his biggest rival, one of the only people in the state who could beat him, he still radiated confidence. He never showed the stress. His body was poised and flexed, highlighting the swimmer's build in the race position, toned to perfection.

  The buzzer sounded, and I leapt off the block half a beat late. The room erupted around us, cheers and screams for both teams. Harden carved his way through the water, creating a wake trailing towards the rest of us as we all attempted to catch him.

  I forced my head down. Recruiters would be at every meet leading up to sectionals. If I had any hope at all of being recruited to the same college as Harden, I had to prove myself. There was no way I could pay for it otherwise.

  We flipped, and I got a good kick off the wall, passing the guy next to me easily. Only three more laps to go. I resisted breathing until a few strokes before the wall.

  Harden fought for first. He'd been trying to beat Jeff Woods since freshman year. He'd come close but it was never quite enough. If he could take him at one of the meets before the state championship and shake Jeff's confidence...

  I had to focus on my own swim, not Harden's. I needed to get third to get enough points to beat West High School in this meet, and I had already been late off the block after letting my mind wander to Harden once.

  Dolphin kicking off the next wall, I caught the guy in front of me. If I could keep it up and not gas out at the end, I had the third we needed in the bag. I held my breath, forcing my arms as fast as they’d go, head down, slamming a hand into the wall. I popped up right away to check the board.

  Third.

  Yes.

  I searched for Harden's place.

  Second.

  Fuck. The meet would come down to relays.

  "Vance," Harden purred my name and offered a hand when I looked up to find my best friend standing over me. "Nice job."

  His blue eyes glinted with joy as I took his hand and he hoisted me from the water, pulling me into a hug. Wet skin met, and my entire body poured into it, his strong arms tight around my shoulders while mine slid around his waist. The hug was full-body, warm, and welcoming, sending a spark of arousal down my spine. His hugs always did.

  A hard-on in a skin-tight spandex suit was impossible to hide. Luckily, I was used to dealing with them…and him. He pulled back way too soon, but I couldn't blame him. Half our class had shown up to the meet to see if we could beat West.

  "You nearly had him." I rubbed my hand over the back of my neck, following him to the cool-down pool.

  "Close. He got me in the last twenty-five." Harden's smile wavered for a moment. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but I caught the flicker.

  I knew him too well to ignore it. "You'll get him. We still got a couple weeks, and you taper well.”

  "I've been trying to catch him for three years. Maybe he's just faster than I am.” Harden rarely let anyone see this side of him. He liked to keep his positive outlook plastered to his face all the time.

  Something his father did as well. Harden's father had been known for being unshakeable as the state’s governor. Nothing rocked his confidence. Or maybe Harden had to be that person for his father.

  I clutched at his side, fingers curling into muscle. "Come here."

  He took a half step towards me like he could sink into my embrace. He needed it, but he froze. "Not here.”

  "Right." I released my hold on him, acting as if nothing had happened.

  "I can't show weakness..." He dropped his voice as a crease formed in his brow. “Not in public.”

  "I know. You know I'm not mad at you. We all need a moment sometimes." I shrugged it off while he side eyed the stands where the governor sat with his wife, acting like he wasn’t watching, but he always was.

  "You're too good for me, Finch.” Harden flashed me a smile, back to his normal self, and it was infectious.

  I felt warm under its glow. Who wouldn’t want a little? Everyone wanted a part of his glory. Half the school swooned all over him, begged for his attention, and the other half would have if they thought they had a shot or weren’t too jealous to admit they wanted him too.

  “It’s more important for you to cut your time, I’ve already got Yale secured.”

  Yale didn’t give scholarships the way other universities did. The Ivy’s gave based on need. And where my father was poor, he wasn’t the type of poor that would condone a full ride. I'd been working my ass off to get there and maybe I’d be able to figure it out with loans but I would have to see how much they offered me, if they did at all. I didn’t even know if I was on the radar of their swim coach. But I’d try if only to please Harden. To earn one of those roguish smiles he gave me all the time.

  “I don’t know if it’s gonna happen. Maybe to Michigan.” Their team was good, but not on the same level as Yale.

  “I can’t have you that far away for four years.” He reached for me again but dropped his hand before it made contact with my skin.

  I wished he would touch me like he did when we were alone. Not the safe things we were allowed to do in public.

  “Can’t?” I asked. “It’s not gonna kill you.”

  He stepped closer, intensity burning in his eyes. “It might, Finch. I could die from withdrawal.”

  “Withdrawal? I didn’t know you were addicted.”

  “Who’s going to play with my hair until I fall asleep?” he pushed, not addressing my comment.

  I lifted my brows. “Am I a glorified fluffer now?”

  “You fluff? News to me. I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.” The words rolled of his tongue, slow and seductive.

  “You haven’t asked for more than head rubs.” I lifted a s
houlder playing it off.

  He gasped. “Holding out on me, Vance?”

  Maybe I was like everyone else who pined after Harden, but in moments like these, I liked to think the reasons I loved him weren't as shallow as everyone else around him. I was the one who’d stayed up with him all night when he was scared of the dark. And I'd been the one to drag him out of the mountains when he'd fallen and broken his leg. He'd held me all those years ago when my mom died. He'd dried my tears and told me he'd always be here for me. No one understood us like we understood each other.

  “Got to ask for what you want.”

  "Sorry to interrupt your romantic moment, but I need to cool-down.” Woods barged between us, shouldering his way past to get to the edge of the pool.

  “Are you jealous, Woods?” Harden asked. “Want to get between us?”

  Woods dragged his eyes down Harden’s body licking his lips. “Not between you. I’ll just take Finch.”

  Harden seethed, teeth grinding, and it lit a fire inside me. “You wish. He wouldn’t look at you twice.”

  “No, just you?” Woods asked.

  Harden scoffed. “Keep making up fantasies to jack off to.”

  Woods gave me another once over. “If you ever decide to ditch this loser, give me a call.”

  “Not on your life,” I replied, confused by the direction this had gone.

  Jeff scowled as he turned on us. "You look like more than friends.”

  "I don't have to question my sexuality when I hug my best friend."

  “If you say so. I’d be questioning everything.” Woods winked at me.

  “Of course you would, Vance is hot as fuck, but he’s not for you,” Harden replied casually like he'd said it a hundred times. He'd never commented on my level of attractiveness. I didn't think he’d noticed that about me.

  Heat rose in my cheeks.

  “So possessive! Sounds like you’re into him.”

  “I’m not possessive. I just don’t want my best friend dating an asshole.” Harden huffed and came off more frustrated than he should. “Can you not tell who other attractive humans are? Pretty sure everyone knows Harry Styles is attractive or Brad Pitt."

  “People recognize the daddy energy…even if they aren’t into it,” I added, getting control of the redness in my face.

  "Whatever. I need to cool-down before I kick your ass in the relay." Woods jumped in the pool and took off much too fast for the swim to be an effective cool-down.

  "Burning off his rage." Harden rolled his eyes and turned towards the locker room.

  "Not going to cool-down?” I asked, catching up.

  "Nah, not in the mood. We'll take the relay. We have a faster team. All they have is Woods." Harden was right, but our coach would still give us shit for it.

  "You think I'm hot as fuck?" I nudged my shoulder into his as we walked into the dimly lit locker room.

  He shot me a strange look. "You know you're hot."

  "Then why aren't people crawling all over me like they are you?" I asked, taking a seat, which was a bad idea because it put me on eye level with Harden's bulge.

  "Because they're too stupid to see past my father and my family's money. Or maybe the swimming. I'm a dime a dozen blond, white guy. You got some high fashion model cheekbones. You just hide behind all this black." He gestured at all of me like I wasn't bare except for the nylon jammers that left nothing to the imagination.

  "I'm naked."

  He rolled his eyes, taking a load off on the opposite bench. "You're not naked. I think I would have noticed if you were." A smile curled over his mouth.

  Shit. If he kept looking at me that way, I'd end up hard, and hard in spandex left nothing to the imagination. He'd be able to count the veins on my cock.

  "Would you?" I asked.

  "You think anyone wouldn't?" He stared at me, intense in everything he did.

  "I don't think many would. You're the one who gets all the girls."

  "I told you, it's the governor. Popularity is a joke. Wait until college—you'll probably get loads more dates than I do."

  I broke eye contact. "Won't do me any good if I'm still a virgin when I get there."

  Harden's brows pulled in, and it took him a moment to work out what I was saying. "Wait...you are?"

  I nodded then shrugged. "Yeah."

  "But why? You've dated people. We've been to parties.” His expression changed like he was running through all the people who'd hung around me for any amount of time. "Two weeks ago..."

  I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to have to sit here and explain why I'd never fucked anyone. Even to my best friend, that shit was embarrassing.

  "They've got to be nearly done with the five-hundred. We should go get ready for the relay."

  He nodded, but I could tell we weren't through with this. He'd bring it back up and now I had to figure out how to answer what I didn't want to tell him.

  Two

  “You never did get around to telling me.”

  “Huh?” I asked glancing up from my phone.

  “Why you’re still a virgin.” He set a bowl of ramen in front of me, saying the words like they were nothing more than the weather.

  “What would you like me to say? I am.” I focused on the food in front of me as if it could make the intensity of Harden’s stare vanish. I knew better but it didn’t stop the impulse to bury my head in the sand.

  He didn’t speak, poking his tongue into his cheek, staring into his bowl.

  “What?” I asked when the silence became unbearable.

  “As your best friend, I’m a little surprised I didn’t know.” He lifted his shoulders, playing it off, but the tension in his muscles and the flex in his jaw told me it got to him.

  “Did you expect me to update you after each date? No, still haven’t fucked anyone yet.” I laughed, but the twist in my gut remained. I didn’t enjoy Harden annoyed with me.

  “No…” He lifted his eyes from his bowl. Storms brewing. There were always there behind the clashing waves in his irises. Turmoil just under the surface.

  It was part of what drew me to him. The unspoken sadness there other kids seemed to miss. We understood each other without ever speaking about it.

  “I guess…I don’t know.” He returned to stirring as if the bottom of the bowl held more answers than my face.

  “You guess?”

  “I expected to know if you were screwing someone. I always tell you…”

  “And what did you think when I never ever had a story of my own?”

  Harden nodded, working it through his brain and taking time to process. “You’re right. I guess I didn’t think about it.”

  This produced a frown. He stared at me, frustration turning to intensity. A kind only occasionally seen from him. He wanted something but didn’t want to ask. It didn’t happen often. Only a handful of times. The last time was when he wanted me to ask Lindsey Fleming if she liked him in the eighth grade. Harden didn’t ask anyone for favors. Like his father, he did everything on his own.

  “Just say it.”

  He glared, not even bothering to ask me ‘what.’ We knew each other too well for those games.

  “If you’re not going to ask…” I played it off. It would drive him crazy. I didn’t care.

  He scowled, and it made the room pulse. Shit. I shouldn’t have started this today. I’d be jacking off in the shower for the rest of the night, wishing it were him touching me.

  “I want you to tell me why, Vance. I don’t ask you for shit, but I want this.”

  “Why?” I threw back, heat starting to burn in my cheeks. Not exactly the conversation I wanted to have with him.

  “Because I’m curious. Can’t I be curious about my best friend?” His voice dropped, making me lean in to hear what he said next. “I tell you about everyone who touches me.”

  “I figured you got off on sharing your exploits.”

  He shook his head but didn’t elaborate, and I burned with curiosity.

 
“There isn't a reason for it. I don’t know what you want me to explain to you.” Tension burned and I shifted my body, stuck between getting hard and uneasy. Why was this so important? “Not like you’re going to be the one teaching me, so I don’t see why it matters?"

  The words were out before I could stop them. I clapped a hand over my mouth. Maybe Harden hadn't heard.

  He lifted his eyes from the bowl of ramen and studied me. One of his brows popped up, and his unrealistically handsome face turned quizzical. I wished he'd ignore me. My breath caught in my throat, and I cast my gaze to look anywhere but his face. In the middle of studying his mom's ornate collection of china like it was the most interesting thing in the universe, I convinced myself he would ignore my question and give me a pass.

  Harden had been my best friend since kindergarten. Occasionally, we gave each other passes. This would be the perfect opportunity to brush something under the rug and pretend it never happened.

  "Teach you?" he echoed as the crease in his brow told me he didn't know what I meant. He focused on me, trying to work out what I'd meant. "What do you mean by teach you?"

  It was a gift. One he'd presented to me on a gold platter. A way out. I could say anything. Anything at all and he could teach it to me and we'd continue being best friends and none of it would be awkward. There was no reason to go there at all. No reason to admit what I'd meant. Except I couldn't come up with a single thing.

  My brain abandoned me. Like after I'd blabbed the words, it had decided to take a vacation and leave me sputtering while the idea of sex sat in the forefront of my cerebral cortex, pulsing in and taking over my mind, filling all the available space so nothing else could enter.