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

Aiden fell asleep so fast it was comical.

One second we were talking and the next one he went from being
his horny, foul mouthed self to looking as innocent and peaceful as a little
boy. I watched him sleep for a while, happy to see him looking so relaxed after
what must have been an even bigger day for him than it was for me.

And the fact that he passed out so quick must’ve meant I did
something right, even though half the time he was telling me what to do or
rocking me like a rag doll. I thought I was so strong, so tough, but in his
hands I was practically flimsy.

Though somehow the way he treated me made me feel feminine
without feeling weak at all.

But I couldn’t believe I sucked his balls.

I’d never done that before. I had no idea what I was doing. Well,
I sort of did because Fiona sent me an article about it after she tried it with
Peter and said he was “fucking putty in her hands afterwards,” but I never
thought I’d actually do it.

But something just came over me. I guess it was knowing in the
back of my mind that Aiden had been with so many women. It made me feel like a
toothy, lackluster high school blow job wasn’t going to be enough.

And I admit I wanted to impress him. The whole situation felt
much more pressurized than when it was just about sex, but with him it was
different. Like it was backwards or something.

I mean, we already had the friendship, the mutual respect, and
the shared interests. What we needed was to find out if we had the sexual
chemistry necessary to be more than friends, and I was starting to believe very
much that we did. In fact, I was beginning to think we might have a shot at
something here, but I didn’t want to think about it because that only reminded
me how unlikely it was.

Statistically, the chance of finding someone that was a good
match was very low, and the chance of finding it within my existing circle of
friends was even lower, much less my best friend. I was no math whiz in school,
but didn’t most relationships have a shelf life? Like produce?

But that didn’t matter. Not right now. Not when I was trying to
enjoy the moment, a moment I’d been waiting a stupid amount of time for, a
moment I was convinced would never happen. But despite the odds- whatever they
were- it was happening.

Aiden and I were naked in bed together with our taste on each
other’s lips. It was so crazy that if I actually thought about it properly my
head would’ve exploded. Fortunately, my brain was far too fuzzy from champagne
bubbles to process the true spectacle and gravity of the situation I was in.

However, in my slightly sleepy, inebriated state, I was
convinced that I could’ve given him an even better blow job which gave me some
hope. Because now that I’d gone and done it, loads more tips from the article
kept popping into my head, reminding me about things I was supposed to do with
his balls when I was down there that I totally forgot about.

Like it suggested pursing your lips on the skin of his ball sack
and licking that line between them which completely slipped my mind. Granted,
the sensory overload was a bit much so I’m lucky I was able to think as clearly
as I did, but I might have to do all kinds of research now to keep him on his
toes.

After all, that would be vital. He tended to get bored easily,
and I knew it. And while he hadn’t tired of me in the last fifteen years, I
didn’t want him to lose interest now that I was putting out. My self-esteem
couldn’t handle a blow like that.

Speaking of blow, it wasn’t long before Aiden started to make
these funny noises in his sleep, some of which involved him exhaling through a
tiny gap between his lips that formed from his face being crushed against the
pillow.

At least it wasn’t snoring.

But it was still strangely foreign to me.

I mean, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually spent the
night with someone, the last time I’d heard another person breathing so close
to me in the dark. But despite how unusual it was for me, there was something
sort of comforting about it, about being so close to someone.

And I did feel close to him. Perhaps closer than I ever had.

But that didn’t change the fact that the same demons were
keeping me awake, making me want to sneak around, making me want to disappear.

Because I didn’t want him to see my scar.

He’d seen enough of me to last him a lifetime over the last few
hours as it was. And lucky for me, he liked what he saw, but I desperately wanted
to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, his legs were wrapped up in mine and his arm was
laying over the dip of my waist. If I moved, he would wake up. Besides, what
was I going to do? Put my dress back on? Sneak back to my room and return with
my pajamas? How totally off the radar weird would that be?

I could put his shirt on except I didn’t think it was really
within my rights to wear part of his finest suit. And a toga wouldn’t hide it
unless it was haphazardly wrapped. Plus, even if I knew how to tie one, I
didn’t know how to remove a layer of sheets from the bed while we were in it.

And then it hit me. This was a swanky hotel. There were probably
slippers and robes in the closet. There had to be. They had a spa here and a
heated outdoor pool. Yes. There must be robes. That’s what I would do. I would
get up in the morning before he did and slip on a robe and that wouldn’t be
unusual at all. It would just be silly Lucy enjoying her five star stay.

Perfect.

It was the best way to keep things light in the morning.
Otherwise, he would ask me about it. I knew he would. And I would have to tell
him the truth because the barbed wire story would never work on him.

And I didn’t want him to think he’d slept with a crazy person or
that I was suicidal or something. Because I wasn’t. I just
used
to be
crazy, but I couldn’t tell him that because it sounded too much like the kind
of thing a crazy person
would
say.

I wasn’t crazy though. I was just a little damaged and angsty after
my Mom died. That’s all. It was understandable that I would’ve had a hard time
coping. However, the fact that I did this by cutting myself wasn’t exactly normal
or endearing.

And while I was pretty sure everyone was a little bit unhinged, I
was also sure that the population as a whole was in agreement that hiding one’s
crazy was the right thing to do for the good of society. And who better to
spare than our loved ones? Especially the ones that had us on a pedestal… or in
their bed?

Anyway, once I had a plan, I felt better and my worries
subsided. And it wasn’t long before I was relaxed enough to enjoy the warmth of
Aiden’s body, close my eyes, and listen to the rhythm of his breath.

I smelled her before I even opened my eyes, smiling as I inhaled
the scent of her faded perfume mixed with sex and sweat. It was nice. So nice I
wished my whole apartment smelled that way.

When I finally did open my eyes, she was resting on the pillow
across from me. I desperately wanted to lift the comforter and peek to make
sure I hadn’t imagined her gorgeous body, but I didn’t dare let any cool air under
the covers in case it would disturb her. Plus, it looked like she was curled up
in the fetal position so I’d have to wait until she woke up to get a good look
anyway.

And for the moment, I was happy to watch her sleep. Her face was
crushed against the pillow and her eyelashes made subtle movements as she
slept, like she was watching a movie on the back of her eyelids. Her slightly
parted lips looked fat, and I was desperate to drag my finger across them but I
restrained myself.

A split second later, my mind flashed back to the only night she
ever slept over when we were in high school. She hadn’t meant to, but we played
video games until three in the morning drinking warm Heinekens I’d stolen one
at a time from the mini fridge in my Dad’s spare garage. Eventually, we just
sort of passed out. She left in the morning before my parents woke up, but not
before I had a chance to watch her sleeping.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she looked as young and
innocent that morning as she did this one.

But I did know better. Or at least I knew she wasn’t innocent
now. She probably wasn’t then either. I just didn’t know. But even if her
innocence was up for debate, it was no secret that she was delicate, more
delicate than she ever let on.

And I felt lucky to be one of the few people she felt comfortable
being vulnerable with, especially because I knew that kind of closeness and
trust didn’t come easily to her.

But last night did. Whatever the hell Pandora’s box we’d opened,
we’d broken the lid off and there was no going back. Not now that I’d seen what
she could do with her body, her mouth, her tongue. I hadn’t had it that good in
as long as I could remember.

The best part was that it felt like she genuinely enjoyed making
me feel good. Sometimes I felt like girls just put out as a means to an end-
cause they were desperate for a boyfriend, or a Valentine, or access to my bank
account. But I didn’t get that feeling from Lucy. I didn’t get the sense that
she was just going through the motions.

After all, I knew she wasn’t afraid of being alone, and she’d
never had any interest in my money since my parent’s stopped getting season
tickets to Six Flags when we were twelve. Though if I recall, she was pretty
disappointed about that.

But it felt good to know she liked me for me, that she was
attracted to me because she knew what I was, not just who I was. And whether
her feelings had come out of nowhere or they’d always been lurking under the
surface didn’t concern me. All that mattered was that I felt the same way.

I only wish I’d felt it sooner. Then again, maybe if I hadn’t
dated all those vacant social climbers, I wouldn’t have appreciated having her
in my bed as much as I did now. 

Hopefully I hadn’t snored. I’d been told alcohol made it worse, and
I probably drank enough at the wedding to fill one of the golf course’s small
water features, but it would’ve been nice if she’d been spared.

Oh well. Maybe she was passed out enough not to be bothered
either way. She certainly was now. And god knows I’d tried to exhaust every
inch of her inside and out.

As I watched her sleep, I couldn’t help but think that there was
something extra special about waking up beside her, but it took me a while to
figure out what it was. After all, I’d woken up next to more women then I could
count.

But this time was different because I didn’t feel lonely. For
years, the fact that I could wake up next to a beautiful woman and still feel
lonely bothered me, especially because I knew it was enough for other guys. I
thought I might be defective. 

Still, I couldn’t shake the fact that something was always missing,
and I didn’t know how to fix it.

Frankly, I’d felt lonely waking up next to Chelsea for the last
six months of our relationship. Except now I knew why that was. Cause she
wasn’t really there. She had checked out.

But Lucy was there. And maybe that was why it felt like the void
was filled. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel alone when she was around. Not that
morning, not ever. And this was as great a realization as any I’d had the night
before.

With the grace of a tiptoeing bear, I slipped out from under the
covers and walked over to the closet by the door. I couldn’t be bothered
putting all my clothes on just to run a simple errand so I slid the door open
as softly as I could and dragged one of the towely robes off the hanger. The
wooden hanger banged against the back wall and I grabbed it, squeezing my eyes
shut like it might help make the noise stop.

Then I held it in my hand as tightly as I held my breath.

Lucy didn’t stir.

I released the hanger gently and slipped the robe on. Then I
slipped a room key in my pocket and walked out the door.

As soon as I closed it silently, I looked down and shook my
head. I had neither shoes nor slippers on, just my dress socks. Fuck it. I was
only going to be gone five minutes. As long as I didn’t run into my mother, I’d
be fine.

As I rounded the corner to the elevators, the little old lady from
yesterday was standing there with a small rolling suitcase.

“We can’t keep meeting like this,” I joked.

“Don’t worry. I’m checking out.”

“You sure you aren’t stalking me?”

She smiled and her face wrinkled like a raisin. “If only I were
fast enough on my feet.”

I laughed.

“And your heart wasn’t already taken.”

I shrugged.

She looked down at my feet and then up at my face. “You in a
hurry again this morning?”

“No,” I said. “Just absentminded.”

She opened her large purse like it was full of critters she
didn’t want to release and pulled out some hotel shampoo bottles and
transferred them to her other hand. Then she dug around some more and pulled
out her hotel slippers which were still sealed in plastic and handed them to
me.

“You’re welcome,” she said, tossing her smuggled toiletries back
in.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do,” she said. “I can’t be seen with you like this.”

I rolled my eyes and put the slippers on. They looked absolutely
appalling with my black dress socks.

“Much better,” she said as the elevator doors opened.

“I got it,” I said, grabbing her bag.

She nodded and walked onto the elevator, pressing the button and
stepping to the side.

“Did you have a pleasant stay?” I asked as the doors closed.

“Very,” she said. “And I already know you did.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I did.”

The doors opened to the lobby and she grabbed the handle of her
bag in a way that made it clear my services were no longer needed.

“Have a safe trip home.”

“Thanks,” she said. “And good luck to you.”

I didn’t waste a minute walking over to reception.

“Good morning, Barry,” I said, wondering why it couldn’t have
been his day off.

“Good morning, Mr. Briggs.”

Better
. “As you can see, I’m not quite
ready to be out and about today, but I need an urgent favor.”

He nodded.

“My sister- the bride and her husband- would like to have some
of their wedding cake in bed, and I’ve been sent to fetch it for them.” I don’t
know what made me say fetch. Perhaps I was trying to compensate for my informal
dress with overly affected speech.

“Certainly sir. Will I send it up to their room with some
champagne?”

“That won’t be necessary. Two thick slices of cake is all they
want,” I said. “I’ll deliver it myself.”

“I’ll be right back,” Barry said, leaving his desk unmanned.

A few wedding guests stepped off the elevator in their breakfast
finest, and I turned away so as not to be detected as they made their way to
the dining room.

Barry returned with the cake in reasonable time, and I thanked
him, slipping the forks in my pocket so I could focus on carrying the plates to
the elevator. How anyone ever managed more than two plates at once was beyond me.
Thank god I hadn’t been sucked in by his offer of champagne.

Clearly, the old lady with the funny timing was my good luck
charm because I made it all the way back to the room without running into
anyone, and after putting one of the slices of cake down, I was able to use the
key and push the door open.

I slipped one of the slippers off in front of the door so it
wouldn’t slam behind me, set the plates down so I could close it properly, and
then picked the plates up and put them on the nightstand.

When I turned towards Lucy, I saw that she had changed positions
so that she was stretched across the bed like a flying squirrel, her hair and
limbs extended in all different directions.

And then my stomach dropped.

There were violent scars on the inside of her arm, so thick and
numerous that the sight of them made my eyes burn.