Charming My Best Friend (Fated #2) (5 page)

BOOK: Charming My Best Friend (Fated #2)
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Chapter 9: Lucy

 

 

 

“Are you sure this is the one?” Fiona asked,
spinning in a circle.

 

I rolled onto my stomach and looked at her from my
bed. “Yeah, I’m sure. Of the shirts you showed me, that is by far the sexiest
in the most understated way.”

 

She turned to look in the mirror. “Cause this is
our third date, and I know I already slept with him, but tonight is my chance
to leap across the valley.”

 

“The valley?”

 

She spun back around. “You know how when you meet
a guy on Tinder and it actually goes well there’s that moment when the
relationship either disappears like it never happened or it crosses the line
into being an actual thing?”

 

“No, but I guess that’s just cause the valley gets
me every time.”

 

Fiona put her hands on her hips. “Only because you
go running and screaming into it so no one can ever get close to you.”

 

“That’s not true. I let most of ‘em get real close
before I run off.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about
physically close.”

 

“So you think Peter’s worth the hassle of a real
relationship then, huh?”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but if I let what
we have now dissolve, I never will.”

 

“Fair point.”

 

“What are you up to tonight?” she asked,
disappearing from my room for a second and returning with a pair of strappy
sandals.

 

“Don’t know yet,” I said. “Might call Aiden and
see if he’s up for getting some ice cream.”

 

“Think you’ll break the news about Chelsea?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“I don’t envy you.”

 

“Thanks.” I propped my chin up on my hands and
heard a honk.

 

“That must be Peter,” Fiona said, grabbing her
purse off the floor.

 

“Have fun,” I said.

 

She turned and winked as she left the room. “Don’t
wait up.”

 

I heard the front door slam behind her and reached
for my phone to call Aiden. I couldn’t avoid him forever. Plus, Chelsea’s
infidelity was eating me alive, and I didn’t see why I should protect her when
it meant failing to protect him.

 

Just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he
picked up.

 

“Hey,” I said. “It’s me.”

 

“What’s up?” he asked.

 

I could hear the sound of glasses clanging in the
background. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. What are you up to?”

 

“Nothing really. You okay? You sound kind of
funny.”

 

“I feel kind of funny.”

 

I pursed my lips.

 

“Wanna come get funny with me?”

 

I smiled. “Where are you?”

 

“Firehouse.”

 

“Are you with Chelsea or-”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Are you by yourself?”

 

“Yeah, but the person I’m meeting should be here soon.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“You will be here soon, right?”

 

I sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“I will be when you come cheer me up.”

 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

 

“Ugh. Can I just tell you when you get here?”

 

“No,” I said. “Tell me now.”

 

“Can I get another one of these?” he said to
someone, presumably the bartender.

 

“Aiden!”

 

“What?”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“You really want to know?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I broke up with my girlfriend, and my best friend
has been blowing me off all day.”

 

I swallowed. “You broke up with Chelsea?”

 

“Well, she didn’t break up with me if that’s what
you’re asking.”

 

“I’m not. I just-”

 

“Good. How soon will you be here?”

 

“A half hour?”

 

“Sounds good. I’ll be the guy with the great haircut
and an empty barstool beside me.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“And wear something low cut. I could use a
pleasant distraction.”

 

My jaw dropped as he hung up. I didn’t know what
to think. He’d never said anything like that to me in my life. Suddenly, I was
overcome with anxiety. Should I wear something low cut to indulge him or wear a
fucking turtleneck so he didn’t dare speak to me like that again?

 

When I finally picked my jaw up off the floor, I felt
ridiculous. It was not okay for him to talk to me like that even if he was
hammered. So why couldn’t I stop smiling?

 

I wished Fiona hadn’t left so I could ask her
advice. Then again, I knew she would want me to dress like a total skank if I
told her he said that.

 

I sighed. I supposed the least I could do was
oblige him a little. Maybe some collarbone and a hint of cleavage just to be
playful. I mean, he was probably being facetious anyway. I put on my favorite
scoop neck black shirt and looked in the mirror.

 

What if he was embarrassed that he said that, and
then I showed up with a low cut top on? What if he wasn’t embarrassed and he
actually checked me out when I walked in?

 

I needed to calm down. It didn’t matter what I
wore. He was just being drunk and flirty to take his mind off the fact that he
and Chelsea broke up. If anything, I should just be happy that I was off the
hook for telling him the truth about her. And even though he would probably
just move on to a newer model of the same ridiculous type of person, that
didn’t concern me.

 

What concerned me was being for him now when he
wanted to get drunk and rant so he could move on with a clean slate.

 

I put in the little sunflower earrings that always
cheered me up when I was feeling down and started to apply my makeup. I figured,
given the circumstances, that it wouldn’t hurt to put on a few extra coats of
mascara. After all, the guy sounded depressed and he’d basically asked me to
get dolled up.

 

Which- as much as I hated to admit it- was really
flattering because it meant that at least he didn’t think of me as a sister and
recognized the fact that I was a woman. And maybe it was only cause he’d
recently seen the shape of my breasts down my shirt but still. It was something.

 

I dug around for some lip gloss and blotted my
lips on a crumpled tissue that was lying on my dresser. Then I slipped a short
skirt and my black boots on and grabbed my purse.

 

I looked in the mirror again for a second and
cocked my head. For a split second, I actually thought I looked kind of pretty,
but a moment later, I felt a sad gnawing in my heart.

 

Even at my best, I would never be a leggy blond
model who looked good in pink and could pull off electric blue eye shadow. I
would never be the kind of girl that men fought to open doors for or the type
that walked straight to the front of the line when she went clubbing. Shit, I could
barely walk in heels to save my life.

 

The best I could hope for was to be attractive
enough to distract Aiden for a few minutes when he was down on girls like that.

 

And I could be that girl.

 

I always had been.

 

 

 

Chapter 10: Aiden

 

 

 

I was so happy to see her it was
stupid.

 

In light of the bullshit demise
of my sad excuse for a relationship and the annoying tone in my Mother’s voice
when I told her I’d dumped another girlfriend, I was starting to think Lucy was
the only person that didn’t think I was a total fuck up.

 

Then again, maybe she did, but at
least she didn’t make me feel that way. Which I have to assume is why I craved
her company when I loathed the thought of being around anyone else… besides my
good friend Jack Daniels, of course.

 

And it was Jack that was
comforting me when Lucy walked in wearing a short skirt.

 

“How you doin’, champ?” she
asked, sliding onto the stool next to me.

 

“Never better.”

 

Lucy lifted a finger towards the
bartender. “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” she said, nodding towards my
drink.

 

“Make it two,” I added.

 

She rolled her eyes. “Please tell
me it’s a cuba libre.”

 

“Jack and Coke I’m afraid.”

 

She laughed. “Shit. Good thing I
wore my drinking boots.”

 

“You always wear your drinking
boots.”

 

She shrugged. “Well, you can never
be too prepared.”

 

“You look nice,” I said, wondering
what color underwear she was wearing.

 

“Thanks. You look like you’ve
been drinking since noon.”

 

“Three actually, but I make good
time.”

 

She shook her head. “I wore my
little sunflowers to cheer you up,” she said, turning her head so I could see
her earrings.

 

“Are those the ones you got in
Chinatown?”

 

“Yep,” she said. “Best quarter I
ever spent.”

 

“You like ‘em that much, huh?”

 

She nodded. “I think it’s because
sunflowers always look like they’re smiling to me.”

 

“Thanks for coming to meet me,
Luce.”

 

“Don’t mention it. I was thirsty
anyway.”

 

The bartender put two drinks down
and Lucy grabbed hers, sniffed it, and made a face so disgusted I was surprised
she didn’t hold her nose when she downed half of it in one go.

 

“How can you drink that shit?”
she asked, putting her glass down.

 

“Pretty much the way you just
did,” I said, draining the sweating glass in front of me.

 

“It tastes like hangover.”

 

“It tastes like forgetting.”

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

The bartender looked over his
shoulder at us as he jammed some Corona’s into a bucket of ice. “Well, you know
what they say about that.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “You know
I’m good for it.”

 

Lucy looked back and forth
between us. “What? What do they say?”

 

I smiled. “They say those who
drink to forget pay in advance.”

 

She laughed. “I see.”

 

The bartender lifted the packed bucket
with two hands. “That policy is the only reason we’re still in business,” he said,
excusing himself to deliver the Coronas.

 

Lucy turned towards me and tilted
her head. “So you want to tell me what happened?”

 

“I didn’t love her,” I said. “And to be honest, I
don’t think I ever did.”

 

She nodded and turned her attention to swirling
her drink.

 

“Plus, I think she was cheating on me.”

 

Lucy looked up. “Really?”

 

“I wasn’t positive before I confronted her about
it, but she didn’t exactly deny it.”

 

“I’m so sorry. That sucks.”

 

“I’m mostly irritated because she said it was my
fault.”

 

Her eyes grew wide. “What?”

 

“I know. Apparently it’s my fault for being too
trusting and making it really easy for her to go behind my back.”

 

“Aiden, that’s terrible.”

 

“I know,” I said. “My Mom thinks it’s my fault,
too, like I’m defective because I can’t keep a girl happy or find someone.”

 

“That’s ridiculous. That’s not your problem at
all.”

 

I laughed. “Oh really? What’s my problem then?”

 

“Your problem is that you set yourself up for
disappointment by dating women who are really hard to please.”

 

“By hard to please, I’m assuming you mean high
maintenance?”

 

“Yeah,” she said. “What you need is to find a girl
who’s really busted. That way, she’ll be happy with whatever you give her and
she’ll never stray or get greedy.”

 

“Where am I going to find a catch like that?”

 

Lucy looked over her shoulder at the packed tables
behind us. “This looks like it might be a good place to start.”

 

I looked around to see if she was on to something,
but all I noticed was that Lucy was by far the best looking woman in the bar.

 

“And if I decide I don’t want to alienate the
people in my local, I suppose there’s always Tinder,” I said. “Isn’t that where
you find the creeps you go out with?”

 

“They’re not all creeps.”

 

“If you say so,” I said. “Seriously, though, has
anyone ever met someone they were actually compatible with using that?”

 

Lucy shrugged. “Fiona might have.”

 

“Really?”

 

She drank the rest of her Jack and Coke. “Yeah, some
male nurse who works in the children’s hospital.”

 

“Sounds too good to be true.”

 

“I know,” she said. “But he seems okay so far.
She’s actually on her third date with him right now.”

 

“Their third date, huh? Sounds sticky.”

 

“If it’s anything like their first and second
date, I’m sure it will be very sticky indeed.”

 

I smiled and raised my glass. “So aren’t you going
to say I told you so?”

 

“About what?”

 

“About Chelsea.”

 

“No,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m right. Just cause I
didn’t like her doesn’t mean I’m happy she fucked around.”

 

I cringed.

 

“Sorry,” she said, crinkling her nose. “I didn’t
mean to-”

 

“It’s cool. It’s just still kind of fresh, ya
know?”

 

“Well, for what it’s worth, she wasn’t good enough
for you.”

 

“Thanks, Luce.”

 

“I mean, she was a total bitch to me for one which
should’ve been a deal breaker right away.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Plus, she was basically allergic to food.”

 

“And fun,” I added.

 

“And she cried all the time about stupid stuff.”

 

“And then didn’t cry that time we watched The Fox
and the Hound.”

 

“Oh my god, I forgot about that,” she said,
raising her eyebrows. “Remember how freaked out I was about that?”

 

I nodded. “Yeah, she wasn’t really an animal lover
which was kind of suspect.”

 

“And wasn’t Ringo her favorite Beatle?”

 

I shook my head. “No, it was Mick.”

 

“But he’s not even-”

 

“I know,” I said. “My point exactly.”

 

“I’d say you dodged a bullet there in the end.”

 

“Probably.”

 

Lucy turned to order another drink, and I looked
at where her little sunflower earring met her delicate jawline.

 

For a moment, I wanted to smell her hair. And that
thought led to me wondering what it would be like to watch it drag over my
naked torso knowing that she was going to wrap her sassy mouth around me. And
in my mind, I imagined that she’d make the same face she made when she was
eating ice cream, that her dark eyes would be full of enthusiasm and mischief.

 

“Aiden!”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you want another one of those?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” I clenched my jaw and exhaled
through my nose, trying to put the image of Lucy on her knees out of my head.

 

For the next few minutes, I didn’t say anything.
Instead, I just focused on my drink, relishing the way the harsh bourbon burnt
my throat and sloshed in my belly. “You have dinner yet?” I asked.

 

“No, but I could eat.”

 

“Me, too.”

 

“You wanna get something here or go somewhere else?”
she asked.

 

“I’ve got some nacho stuff and a bunch of taquitos
back at my place.”

 

“That sounds perfect,” she said.

 

I looked at the lip gloss mark on her glass. “Think
you can handle the cooking?”

 

She shrugged. “It’s not really cooking as much as
assembling.”

 

“True, but you’re probably better in the kitchen
than me.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you
everywhere.”

 

I poured some ice cubes into my mouth.

 

“Do you have something besides Jack at your place?”
she asked.

 

I closed my eyes for a second and tried to picture
the bottom shelf of my fridge. “I’ve got plenty of beer, maybe one or two bottles
of cider, and a half empty bottle of vodka.”

 

She crinkled her nose.

 

“But I could pick up some shandys at the store
across the street if you want,” I said.

 

“Are you bribing me with shandys?”

 

I smiled. “Only if it’s working.”

 

 

 

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