Falling for My Best Friend (Fated #1) (4 page)

I knew my date was going to end in sex. I could just tell by the
messages he’d sent me. It was so obvious. They were sexually suggestive, but
not in a way that made it sound like the guy wasn’t getting any.

And I didn’t mind. I liked knowing what to expect. That’s the biggest
problem I had with Cory- okay, maybe not the biggest- but he acted like he was
up for a casual date when he was really trying to meet The One.

If he’d been more upfront, it would’ve saved us both a lot of time.

Brad, however, was being very clear that he was looking to meet
up to have some fun. There was no mention of love or even dating. Now I know
there are a lot of girls who wouldn’t dream of sleeping with someone they just
met, but I wasn’t one of those girls.

I liked to have a good time, and I didn’t take sex too
seriously. As far as I was concerned, it was a healthy recreational activity.

Cory would probably say this was because I didn’t value myself
highly enough, but that’s not true. In fact, I’d say it’s the opposite. I valued
myself too highly to pretend I wanted a relationship just because it might make
the rest of society more comfortable.

I mean, it’s not that I didn’t believe I deserved love. It’s just
that I believed I deserved sex, too, and the latter happened to be a lot easier
to get.

And it’s not like I would just sleep with anyone. I had
standards. I had to be physically attracted to the guy and believe he might
actually put in a little bit of effort to get me off. I’d be damned if I would
let him get away before I got mine.

And he had to be clean and not a douche. However, if he passed
my initial inspection and wasn’t a complete tool, I didn’t see why we couldn’t
use each other.

The other thing was- Tinder adventures aside- I liked sleeping
alone. I relished never having to compromise on what movie to watch or what
take out to order. And while I know I was too young to be set in my ways, that
didn’t change the fact that I was in no hurry to open my heart up to strangers.

Just my legs. If they were lucky.

And when I saw Brad, I could tell he was a winner.

He looked like an Abercrombie model, too pretty to date, but not
too pretty to fuck. In fact, as soon as I sat down, I could tell by his
gorgeous complexion that we could never have anything serious for the simple
reason that I wasn’t willing to share as much of my bathroom counter as he
would need for his products.

“Brad?” I asked, trying not to sound overly hopeful, though it
was a relief when people actually resembled their Tinder photos.

He stood up from his chair and rose to press his cheek to mine.
“You must be Lucy.”

“Guilty,” I said, pulling out the café chair across from him.
The sidewalk on the other side of the glass divider was bustling with the lunch
rush.

“I like the pink,” he said, gesturing to my hair.

“Really? I was thinking of going purple,” I said, picking up the
menu.

“Don’t. The pink is hot.”

I smiled. “So what’s good here?” I asked. “Since you suggested
the place.”

“They’re known for their wraps.”

“I see.”

“I wish I could recommend a few options, but I go for the pulled
pork every time.”

I nodded. “Creature of habit?”

“You could say that.” He poured two glasses of water from the
jug on the table. “So what do you do, Lucy?”

“I’m a hairstylist.”

“I should’ve guessed.” He pretended to run his hand over his
hair but let it hover slightly above the mousse barrier. “How am I doing?”

“Great,” I asked. “Your stylist did a good job. Can I ask what
kind of mousse you use?”

“The one in the blue bottle. Mr. Suave, I think?”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed to know what kind of mousse
you use in front of me, Brad.”

He smiled. “What should I be using?”

“Mahalo’s a good brand. It’s a little more expensive, but they
don’t test on animals.”

I could tell by his face that he wasn’t going to switch.

“Are you guys ready to order?” the waitress said, appearing with
a notepad poised at the ready.

“I’ll have the pulled pork wrap,” Brad said.

“Make that two,” I added.

“And to drink?” she asked.

“Two raspberry lemonades,” Brad said, turning towards me. “Trust
me on this one.”

I nodded and the waitress disappeared.

“So what do you do?” I asked.

“I’m a personal trainer.”

“Cool,” I said, trying to picture him naked. “Where do you
work?”

A smile spread across his face. “In the hotel across the
street.” His eyes dropped down to my cleavage before rising back up to my face.

I looked across the street at the four star hotel. It was the
type that had its own flag over the entrance and men in charge of opening the
doors so no one smudged the spotless glass.

“Interesting,” I said. “What kind of job perks do you get
working in a swanky place like that?”

“The right kinds.”

It felt like I’d known him forever. I glanced at his hands. His
fingernails were clean. I let my eyes travel up, admiring the way his sleeves squeezed
his arms.

A few minutes later, the waitress returned with our wraps and
drinks. I went for a sip of the raspberry lemonade first.

“That’s delicious,” I said.

“They brew it here.”

“I suppose being a personal trainer means you watch what you
eat?”

Something flashed in his eyes. “Oh yeah. I have a very
particular diet,” he said, picking up his wrap. “And a very healthy appetite.”

I laughed. I thought maybe he’d used up all his innuendos in our
messages before the date. Not so apparently. “And I guess you’re on Tinder
because you want to meet your soulmate?”

He covered his mouth and laughed.

I waited for him to finish chewing.

He swallowed. “Of course. Isn’t that why you’re on it? So you
can meet the father of your unborn children?”

“Absolutely not,” I said. “If anything I’m on it to weed out the
people I definitely don’t want fathering my children.”

“Perfect,” he said. “When we’re done eating, I’d love to show
you all the reasons I’m an unsuitable candidate.”

“Where?”

He nodded towards the hotel.

I’d done worse, but I didn’t want to answer him just yet. 

“It’s funny you mention that actually,” he said, ignoring the
straw and drinking his lemonade from the glass. “A few weeks ago, I went out
with a girl who was looking for the man God intended for her.”

“But it wasn’t you?” I asked with a crooked smile before taking
a bite of my wrap.

“She wanted to wait for marriage.” He set his glass down. “I
actually felt kind of bad for her when she told me she was having a hard time
lining up second dates.”

I swallowed. “I went out with the perfect guy for her last week.
He was born again. Thought between him and Jesus, they might be able to save
me.”

“I think you seem fine the way you are.”

“This wrap is delicious,” I said, setting it down for a second.

“I’m glad you like it.”

I wanted to ask Brad what he thought about the revolutionary
speed dating app. I wanted to know if he thought the technology was dangerous. I
mean, what if Fiona was right? What if young people today are so programmed for
instant gratification that they don’t actually have the patience to let a relationship
develop naturally?

For example, Brad seemed like a nice guy- despite the fact that
he was too pretty for me in real life- but even if I wanted to build something
with him, how could I when I knew that as soon as we went our separate ways, he
was just going to start swiping again?

Why would I even try to compete when I knew the universe was
going to match him up with new women who- if only for the reason that he hadn’t
met them yet- were more exotic than I was?

Like what’s the point of trying to build anything with anybody when
technology is perfectly positioned to tear it down?

But in the end, I didn’t give a shit what Brad thought in his big
head. I only cared what he could do with his little one.

I pushed open the glass doors and smiled at the receptionist.
“Hi Amy.”

“Aiden, what a lovely surprise.” Amy walked around her desk and
gave me a big hug.

“I hope my Dad feels the same.”

“I’m sure he will. How have you been?”

“Good.”

“I heard you’re doing physical therapy now.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping to open my own place soon.”

“That would be wonderful. Maybe I could send my husband your
way. His knee still isn’t right after that spill he took skiing last year.”

“I would be happy to take a look at it.”

“That would be great. He might actually accept some help if it
came from you. You’d think he’d been tortured by doctors his whole life the way
he acts about going to get a second opinion.”

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my card. “Tell him to call
me anytime. I’ll even come to the house to take a look. He shouldn’t still be
in pain.”

“Thanks, Aiden,” she said, taking the card. “Sounds good.” She
walked back around the desk and lifted the phone. “John, your son is here to
see you… Milk and sugar?... No problem.” She hung up the phone and gestured
towards my Dad’s office. “Go ahead and let yourself in. Can I get you anything
to drink?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks. I’ve got a bottle of water with me.”

I knocked once and pushed my Dad’s office door open. The view
behind his desk looked out over the lake which sparkled so brightly in the sunshine
it made me wish I hadn’t left my sunglasses in the car.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Aiden,” he said, standing up. “How nice of you to stop by.”

I walked over and gave him a hug. “Chelsea’s at a casting call
nearby so I figured I’d come say hi.”

“I’m so glad you did,” he said, gesturing for me to sit down.

As I headed back to the chair in front of his desk, I checked
the clock. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. He’d never cared much for
interruptions.

“I’ve been meaning to call you with some big news.”

“Oh really?” I asked. “What’s up?”

He sat down and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been talking to
my best guy, and he thinks he can shift his workload enough to train you.”

I furrowed my brows.

“We can have you trading by September. How great is that? You’ll
have your own clients, your own accounts, and a fantastic future to look
forward to.”

“Wow. That’s great news-”

“I know.”

“Except for one thing.”

My Dad clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. “What’s
that?”

“I don’t want to be a trader.”

He dropped his head for a second and took a deep breath. “Son,
it’s time to get serious. You can’t just pal around with college rugby players
forever.”

“I’m not paling around. I’m staying with them until the end of
their summer training season, and then I’m going to open my own place.”

“How?”

“With my savings and the money from my trust fund.”

“You’re not going to blow your trust fund money on a masseuse
parlor for men.”

I laughed. “That’s not what I do, Dad. Not by a long shot.”

“I want you to have the kind of career you can be proud of.”

“Really?” I unscrewed my water bottle and took a sip. “It sort
of sounds like you want me to have the kind of career
you
can be proud
of.”

“I’m not an unreasonable man, Aiden. I just don’t see what’s in
it for you if you go down this road.”

“You could ask me. I’ve thought about it at length.”

His neck pressed against the collar of his shirt. “Fine. What’s
in it for you?”

“The opportunity to help people maintain an active lifestyle and
help those who’ve faced setbacks return to their physical peak.”

He raised his eyebrows like he was waiting for more.

“Look, you don’t have to understand what I get out of it. The
important thing is that you don’t have to worry about getting me a job. I know
it’s disappointing for you, but the thought of lining my pockets with the interest
I make off other people’s money isn’t the kind of thing that makes me want to
jump out of bed in the morning.”

“But massaging men is?”

I shook my head. “I want to open my own place before the end of
the year, and I’ve already narrowed it down to a few locations. I was hoping that
since you have a lot of experience buying property, you might come take a look
at them and give me your opinion.”

He sighed. “Are you sure this isn’t a phase?”

I cocked my head at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re all disappointed that you had to stop playing
rugby, but don’t you think you’re just postponing the fact that you have to let
that dream go.”

“No, I don’t think that’s what I’m doing at all. One of my
favorite things about playing rugby is that when I did it well, it made people
feel good. And I have the opportunity to do that as a physical therapist, too.”

He shook his head.

“And yeah, I get a buzz out of the fact that it means I can
still work with elite athletes even though I’m not one anymore, but I don’t see
what’s wrong with that.”

“Do you have any idea how much of your trust fund money a new
business is going to eat up? It’ll be gone before you know it.”

“With all due respect, Dad, you’ve totally lost touch with the
value of money.” I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t live like you do. I’ve
done the math. At my current rate of spending- assuming I get the best
equipment and staff I can for my practice- I’ve got ten years before I even
have to be profitable.”

He exhaled through his nose.

“And I already know I can count on having a contract from the
college on the books.”

“It’s not what your Grandfather would’ve wanted.”

“Then he should’ve left some more detailed instructions then
take
care of yourself, kid
.”

“Is that all he said to you about the money before he died?”

I shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Fuck me. I can’t believe he got so soft with age. He was such a
hard ass when I was young.”

“So you’ve said.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter what he said. He would’ve wanted you to
follow in his and my footsteps and dedicate your life to making other people
lots of money.”

“And helping people be fit enough to go out and make their own
money- or spend it how they want- isn’t good enough?”

“It’s not my first choice.”

I sighed. “Will you at least think about coming to look at the
locations I’ve scouted out? I think I already know which one I prefer, but I
would appreciate your opinion.”

“Will you at least promise me that you’ll consider my offer of
training here and joining the team?”

“Do you want me to lie to you?”

“No.”

“Then no, I’m not going to consider your offer. I know what I
want to do, and while I don’t need your permission by any stretch, it would
mean a lot to me if you would give me your blessing.”

“What does your Mother think of all this?”

“She just wants me to be happy.”

“Well, that’s why I married her, isn’t it? Because she’s a
better person than I am.”

I smiled. “You’re not so bad.”

“And what about this Chelsea? Is she a better person than you
are?”

“I don’t know. You’ve met her. Why do you ask?”

“Cause if I’m going to get ambushed with any more wedding
expenses, I want to know right now.”

I laughed. “No, you’re good. Unless you’ve got other kids to
consult that I don’t know about, Claire’s is the only wedding you’re on the
hook for.”

“She’s doing my head in with this shit, Aiden. I swear to God.
This guy better be a goddamn prince for how far I’m reaching in my pocket. Your
mother called me earlier to let me know they’ve decided on centerpieces from
Italy. Italy!”

“At least you only get married once, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “No shit. I’m not kidding though. If they
don’t start cutting corners somewhere, her wedding is going to be my funeral!
Honestly, next thing I know they’ll be telling me they want real doves to
deliver the invitations to people.”

“Maybe you could compromise and get a discount on carrier
pigeons if you order in bulk.”

“I must remember that,” he said. “In case they try and pull
anything.”

“Why don’t you change your focus?”

“Pardon?”

“Why don’t you stop focusing on how much everything is costing
you and start focusing on how good you’re going to feel when you’re walking
Claire down the aisle knowing that, because of you, she got to have the wedding
of her dreams?”

My Dad smiled gently, his eyes forming little crescents. “You’re
a good kid, Aiden, and you know what else?”

“What?”

“You’d make a damn fine trader.”