Charming My Best Friend (Fated #2) (7 page)

I’d never wanted sleep to overwhelm me more in my whole life.

But every time I tried to squeeze my eyes shut, I saw him making
that face at me, that face I’d wanted him to make at me for over ten years
followed by a kiss I was convinced was never coming.

But it came, and it was amazing.

And yet, it wasn’t the kiss I wanted.

I wanted a rough kiss, a sloppy kiss, a drunken, slobbery kiss,
but I couldn’t use any of those words to describe the kiss he’d planted on me.
I wanted the kind of kiss that I could laugh off or tease him over, a kiss I
could make light of.

A kiss that wouldn’t haunt me and keep me awake at night.

Instead, I got a gentle kiss, one that was deliberate,
intentional, almost choreographed in its perfection. And as hard as I tried, I
couldn’t find anything funny about it.

On the contrary, he was dead serious. He might’ve been drunk,
but he knew what he was doing. He’d even had an out after he made that stupid
face the first time. That was his chance to cop on and get a hold of himself.

But he was so fucking stubborn. He must’ve gotten the idea in
his head and been unable to let go of it. And it was really freaking me out.

Where the hell did he learn to kiss like that?

For years, I’d been convincing myself that we were too good of
friends for there to be anything more. But when he kissed me, it was like I didn’t
even know him, like he became this mysterious hunk with nothing but secrets.
For that brief moment, he wasn’t the cocky kid with the trampoline down the
street. He was a goddamn kissing machine, and the thought of cooties never even
crossed my mind.

Actually, nothing crossed my mind.

Once he laid his lips on mine, everything went blank. The whole
world disappeared except for his hands on my cheek and my waist and his boozy
wet tongue in my mouth.

In fact, I was rendered so incapable of thinking, I got totally
swept up in the moment and kissed him back. And I can only assume it was the
best damn kiss I’ve gotten in a while because it was the first time in a long
time I wasn’t analyzing it while it was happening.

Normally, I had all kinds of thoughts like
why can I feel
your teeth?
Or
slow down there partner
. Or
please don’t splash
around like that
. Or
I wonder if I remembered to record Raising Hope
?

But when Aiden kissed me, it was just white noise and heat and
energy and shock. And I felt like I hadn’t been able to breathe since I ran
away.

However, in the back of my mind, I knew chances were that he was
just drunk and horny and confused, and I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

After all, we had a friendship that was too great to risk, a
shared history that was uniquely our own. Plus, I was supposed to be a friend
to him tonight. I was supposed to be a shoulder to lean on post break up, not
quick on the scene and eager to take advantage.

Then again, maybe I had it all wrong. Clearly he’d been willing
to throw away everything we had for one night of fun.

But that didn’t mean I could. Even if he could keep sex separate
from our friendship- which seemed unlikely- I was going to be the one that got
hurt in the end.

It would be just like all the other times I thought something
was going to happen between us, except it would hurt so much more because this
time I would know what I was missing.

And I could tell by the way he kissed that there would be
nothing funny about the way he fucked.

Thank god he reached for my shirt so I caught myself.

Cause at the end of the day, even if I could believe that we
could have casual sex, I would never feel casual about him seeing me naked. Not
because I was particularly self-conscious, but because of my scars.

He wouldn’t buy my barbed wire story. There’s no way something
like that could’ve gotten past him, and I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me.
There was nothing I hated more than being pitied by someone without my consent.
My late teens were completely overrun with people pitying me for not having a
Mom, and I never asked for their sympathy, their sad eyes, their pats on the
back.

My Mom was sick. It’s not like she abandoned me. Fucking god abandoned
her.

The point is, if Aiden pitied me for even a second when he
realized the truth, if I saw so much as a flash of sympathy in his eyes, it
would kill me.

After all, he’d always thought I was strong and tough, and I’d
lost track of how many times his belief in me was enough to make me believe in
myself.

No one night stand was worth losing his respect and admiration.
No kiss was worth ruining how he looked at me.

I sat up and reached for the glass of water next to my bed and
drained it, desperate to sober up and calm my racing mind.

I just wanted to sleep.

But a fear was building up inside me, and that fear was that I
would never be able to forget the way it felt to have him hold me like that, how
it felt to be overwhelmed by his touch.

If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have left.

If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t be so confused.

If it were anyone else, I would be lying here thinking about how
soon I could do it again.

And worst of all, even if I could put the whole thing out of my
mind, that was only half the battle.

Cause I still wouldn’t know what the heck he was thinking.

Or what he thought about the fact that I freaked out?

Was he angry? Relieved?

Did he think I did the right thing?

How far would he have gone with me?

All the way?

Could I seriously believe that after all these years of our
physical contact never escalating past playful tickling and aggressive arm
wrestling that he would stick his… oh my god I couldn’t even say it much less
think about it.

And then just like that, it was too late, and I was thinking
about it.

What would it be like to be naked with my best friend?

To have him kiss me in places he was never meant to see?

To have the weight of his body rocking over me, filling me up?

For him to hear the noises I made when I was overcome by
pleasure?

Was he really ready for all that?

Or was he just drunk and curious to see what he could get away
with?

Because for fifteen years, I’d always craved more time with him,
but maybe time wasn’t the only thing he wanted with me.

And that thought alone was the most exhilarating, terrifying
prospect of all.

What if he wasn’t sorry? What if he’d meant that kiss to feel
exactly how it felt- crazy, unhinged, and delicious in its inappropriateness.

What if he was lying awake now, too, and nothing would ever be
the same?

I woke up in the morning and groaned as I opened my eyes. There
was an empty space in the bed next to me, but it didn’t make me think of
Chelsea.

It made me think of Lucy, all kinds of good things and bad
things at once.

Good things because kissing her and having my hands on her felt
right, as if making a move was something I should’ve done a long time ago.

But I also had this horrible sick feeling in my guts that was
partly because I ate all the taquitos by myself and partly because I still
didn’t understand why she’d left.

And that made me really sad.

Because the firey little crush I’d developed was only flamed by
getting to taste her candy lips, and even though I knew I needed to apologize
for making her uncomfortable enough that she felt like she had to leave, I
still wasn’t sorry.

In fact, I wanted to kiss her again, and not just on the mouth
either.

I rolled onto my stomach and reached my hand under the bed until
my fingers found a half empty Gatorade. Then I drank from the nozzle until there
was nothing left and dropped my head on the pillow again.

A moment later, the phone buzzed across my nightstand.

“Lucy. Hey.”

“How’s the noggin sleepy head?”

“Not as bad as you might expect,” I said, rolling onto my back.

“Glad to hear it,” she said.

Was she still in bed, too?

“Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep,” she said. “I just wanted
to make sure that we were cool and that you were alive.”

“I’m glad you called. I need to get up.”

“Okay, well, have a good da-”

“Wait-” I sat up, propping a pillow under my head.

“What?”

I smiled. “I want to tell you about this crazy dream I had.”

“Shoot,” she said.

“I dreamt that we kissed.”

“Did you now?”

“Yeah.”

“And how was it?” she asked.

“It was awesome. You tasted like cake.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” I stuck my hands down my sweatpants to readjust myself.
“And you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“Sounds like a dream alright.”

“A total nightmare more like,” I joked.

“Good one.”

“Seriously, though, I feel like I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“For sticking my tongue down your throat.”

“Oh.”

“And liking it.”

“Sounds to me like you’re still drunk. Maybe you should go back
to bed until you’re ready to wake up and remember that we’re just friends.”

“Ouch,” I said. “Was it that bad?”

“No.”

“So it was good?”

“Meh.”

I could hear that she was smiling.

“It was a bit gentle for my taste,” she said, “but I give you an
A for effort.”

“What?!” I sat up. “Come over here right now and let me try
again.”

She laughed. “I’m not coming anywhere near you until you sober
up.”

“I’m sober enough.”

“Fine. I’m still not coming anywhere near you until-”

“Until what?”

“Until you settle down.”

I groaned.

“I know you’re eager to get back on the dating scene after all
that time in a relationship, but you need to cast your net in a different
direction.”

“Damn. Usually one kiss is all it takes.”

“Too little too late I’m afraid,” she said. “Though I’m
flattered.”

“I guess it’s for the best anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause a tease like you would drive me crazy.”

“I am not a tease.”

“I’m going to have to disagree with you. I mean, you came back
to my place in that short skirt and then you were all sexily slicing cheese and
shit.”

“That is not true. There is nothing sexy about the way I slice
cheese.”

“Sure there is. The way you get that big block in your little
hand like that and bite your lip while you’re cutting it.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked.

“Not tease me.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t always meet my expectations
either.”

“I’m listening.”

“Maybe I expect you- as my friend- to not run out on me in my
time of need.”

She laughed. “I only ran out on you because I realized I
couldn’t help you meet the kind of needs you were looking to satisfy.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause.”

“You could’ve at least tried.”

“You would’ve liked that, would you?”

“I wouldn’t have run out on you like a banshee.”

She sighed.

“C’mon, don’t you think you overreacted a bit?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t. I was trying to be a good friend.”

“By abandoning me?”

“By removing myself from a situation where we might’ve made a
mistake.”

“The only mistake I made was letting you get away. You could be eating
pancakes in bed right now if you hadn’t blown your chances with me.”

“Blown my chances?! Can you even hear yourself? Did it even occur
to you that maybe I don’t want a chance to roll around in your fancy t-shirt
sheets?”

“So you’ve thought about it?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously good at kissing.”

“Aiden.”

“What?”

“No.”

I laughed. “Is it cause I’m out of your league or-”

She gasped so hard I thought she might’ve sucked the phone into
her mouth.

“That was a joke.”

“I should think so.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to hang out today?”

“No. I mean, yes. Sorry,” she said. “What I mean is, I think you
should sign up for Tinder and take your sexual frustration out on someone that
doesn’t know you always cheat at Monopoly and prefer Superman band aids.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing that in my face,” I said. “And
I haven’t cheated at Monopoly since-” I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling.

“The last time you played?”

“I was trying to be a realistic banker.”

“Well, you did a good job.”

I smiled. “So if I try this Tinder crap, can we hang out again?”

“If you promise to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I promise nothing,” I said. “But only because it will make your
life more exciting.”

“My life is exciting enough already. Please don’t do anything
crazy on my account.”

“Last night was pretty crazy, though, wasn’t it?” I asked.

“Can we move on yet? I’m ready to forget about it when you are.”

“I’m not yet.”

“What? Why not?”

“Cause I don’t want to.”

“I wish you would.”

“You can’t make me.”

“I’m asking politely,” she said. “As a friend.”

“And as a friend, I politely request the right to not forget I
had my hand up your shirt.”

“You didn’t have your hand up my shirt.”

“My word against yours.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Well, I’ll make it easy for you to find me. I’ll be here all
day.”

“Hopefully using Tinder to find someone else to tongue wrestle.”

“Just say I’m a good kisser, and I’ll let it go.”

Silence.

“C’mon, Lucy. I already know. I just want to hear it from you
since your expert opinion means so much to me.”

“I’m not an expert.”

“You’re not a novice.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Yes,” I said, wishing I could see her face.

“Thank you.”

“Well?”

“You’re better than I thought you’d be.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I can see why other girls might be interested.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll remember what a bitch I am next time you
think you want to suck face.”

“Say what you want. Eventually you’ll realize I’m right.”

“Right about what?”

“About the fact that you liked it more than you’re letting on.”

“In your dreams, bud.”

“Jeez, well at least don’t go calling me bud. That’s a total
mood killer.”

“Good bye, bud.”

I groaned.

“Next time we talk, it better be about a date you have lined up
because I can’t handle much more of this silliness.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh wow. Ma’am is totally my bud equivalent.”

“Hey Lucy?”

“Hey what?”

“You know how I said I was sorry that I kissed you last night
and stuck my hand up your shirt?”

“Yeah.”

”Well, I lied. I’m not sorry. On the contrary, I have every
intention of doing it again.”