Just Bromantically Invested

Madden

My best friend is uptight, gorgeous, the greatest person I know ... and I might be a smidge in love with him. Just a small amount. Barely worth the mention.

Which is a stupid choice on my part when the guy is straight.

Starting a landscaping company with him was the perfect mix of doing what I love and an excuse to spend time with him, only it hasn't completely taken off yet and now he's telling me he's lonely.

Lonely.

Apparently having one friend in your life isn't enough.

So I'm determined to help him find love. With someone other than me. Maybe if I can pull that off, it'll mean my heart will finally get the message and move on.

Or finish breaking into a hundred pieces.

Same thing, right?

Penn

Being besties with an overenthusiastic, gold-hearted, nudist of a man is a challenge sometimes. Madden makes everything sunshine when he's around.

The problem is that he hasn't been around as much lately. We work together, sure, but he's got his roommates and I have ... no one. Just him. So I feel the distance acutely.

My one reassurance is that we have work tying us together, but when an old client calls with a proposition for us, it feels like our once solid friendship is unraveling fast.

He wants Madden to help him open a nudist resort, and if Madden's doing that, he won't be working with me.

I'm trying not to panic over the thought of losing him, which is a typical, common best friend reaction. Nothing out of the ordinary.

And neither is the way my body has been reacting to him lately.

Everything is totally, completely normal between us.

While there's still an us at all.