My Bestie's Ex

I can't borrow him.
He's not a sweater or a skirt.
He's not even her favorite dress-the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him. In my defense, I didn't know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape. To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers. But my blush came quickly, and his...