Keeping My Best Friend (Fated #5) (3 page)

It was time to cut the cake, and I was in the front row. It was
towering above me on a round table that looked as if it had been built just to
display it. Curls of white chocolate lattice work cascaded over the edges as
fluidly as if they hadn’t yet hardened and the voices of the crowd dropped to a
whisper.

Claire and Dave both had their hands on the cake slicer, and
they were about to sink the knife into the base layer when Claire stopped and
looked up.

“Wait,” she said, putting her free hand on Dave’s shoulder.
“Let’s let Lucy do it?”

“No,” I said. “I couldn’t.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Dave said, beckoning me over with
his hand. “You should do it.”

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I walked over to the cake.
Even Mr. and Mrs. Briggs seemed happy for me to cut it.

“Are you sure?” I asked as Dave handed me the knife.

“Of course,” Claire said. “I would be so honored if you would.”

I took a deep breath and laid the sharp edge down on the icing
so gently it gave a little before the edge of the slicer broke through. The
cake was dense but spongy and when I dragged the slicer out to make the second
cut, the mild vanilla scent of the cake wafted up my nostrils. As I inhaled, I
noticed some streaks on the slicer that gave away the fact that there was a
hidden layer of fresh strawberries that I didn’t even know about.

And just as I was about to make the second cut I looked up and
saw Aiden’s face. He was standing in front of the other guests just a few feet
away, and he looked absolutely horrified that I was cutting his sister’s cake.

I opened my eyes and exhaled. It wasn’t true. That never
happened. I didn’t even go near the cake. Plus, Aiden didn’t look horrified at
all. On the contrary, he was sitting on the edge of the bed smiling down at me.

“Hey,” I said, my first words scratching their way out of my
throat.

“Hey,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“Good. You?”

“Like a log,” he said. “I brought you some breakfast in bed.” He
cocked his head towards the nightstand.

I rolled my head to the side and smiled. “Is that the wedding
cake?”

“Yep.”

I sighed. “I was just dreaming about that.”

“That’s disappointing. I was sure from the look on your face
that you were dreaming of me.”

“That, too,” I said. “You were there.”

I stretched my arms up over my head and my eyes went wide when I
realized I could feel the cool air on my bare skin. I tucked my scarred arm
under the covers in one swift motion, hoping I wasn’t too late.

“Have you been up long?” I asked, noticing that Aiden was in a
terry cloth robe.

“Just long enough to get us some cake.”

“That was very sweet of you.”

He laughed. “As if you were leaving here without trying the
wedding cake.”

“So you only got it cause you’re trying to avoid a scene?”

“Or a tantrum,” he said. “I know how you get when everyone gets
cake but you.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Are you kidding? Remember Sylvia Martin’s graduation party?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well I do,” he said. “You were so pissed the cookie cake
disappeared before you got some I thought you were going to make me throw my
piece up.”

“You would’ve deserved it for eating cake behind my back.”

“I can’t even enjoy cake since that day unless you get a piece,
too.”

“As it should be,” I said.

“I went to a party recently- I don’t know if I told you this-
and the host had made all these cake pops-”

I pursed my lips.

“I almost asked Chelsea to put some in her purse for you.”

I laughed. “That would’ve gone down well.”

“Well it’s not like she would’ve eaten them.”

“True.”

“Unfortunately, she had one of those stupid small purses that
doesn’t even have a strap.”

“So it would’ve been ruined.”

“Yeah,” he said. “The purse and the cake pops.”

“So what did you do?”

“I didn’t try them.”

“Are you serious?”

“Okay, I had a few.”

I rolled my eyes.

“But I didn’t enjoy them.”

“I had no idea I’d given you such a complex.”

“And that’s just one of them.”

“Ha Ha,” I said, wanting to sit up. “Well, all this talk of cake
has made me hungry.”

“Good,” he said, scooting back.

“Would you mind grabbing the other robe for me?” I asked.

“Really?” His face fell. “What if you get icing on it?”

“Trust me. No icing is going to escape.”

“But if it did and it fell onto your chest or something, I’d be
able to lick it off easier.”

“Maybe that can be arranged if you get me the robe.”

He shook his head and walked to the closet.

I sat up a little without exposing my scarred arm and grabbed
the robe with my other hand, slipping it on as fast as I could and flashing a
tit to make sure my scars went unnoticed.

Once I was in the robe, Aiden handed me a piece of fluffy,
expensive smelling white cake. Sure enough, there were a few layers of fresh
strawberry trailing through it.

“Would you like to make it a champagne breakfast?” he asked.

“I think that might give me a better indication of the full
experience,” I said. “Since this type of cake is really meant to be eaten with
champagne.”

He stood up and walked over to the table on the opposite side of
the room. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The glasses still had some champagne in them from last night but
Aiden went and poured it out in the bathroom so we could have fresh glasses. It
was the kind of thing only someone with his background would do. If it had been
me, I would’ve just topped up the glasses.

He was bringing the fresh glasses over just as I took my first
bite.

I slouched a bit as the sugar hit my tongue and moaned.

“I take it Nancy did okay?” he asked.

“Nancy did great,” I said, sinking into my pillow as if I were
weighed down by the richness of the cake.

“The real question is was it worth every penny?”

“That’s hard to say,” I said. “It’s definitely worth every
calorie.”

He shoved an oversized bite in his mouth and considered it
before swallowing. “Agreed.”

“You said the cake was a few grand?”

“It comes out to something crazy. I heard my Dad ranting about
it. I almost don’t want to tell you.”

“Come on,” I said, breaking another bite off with my fork. “I
can handle it.”

“It comes out to something like twenty bucks a slice.”

“Twenty bucks a slice!”

“Yeah.”

“And you wanted to lick it off my tits!”

“Want,” he said. “Present tense.”

I blushed. “Well, you’ll have to save some of your icing if you
want to do that cause I’m not wasting my cake on that.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste,” Aiden said, looking at me out of the
corner of his eye. “Trust me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Not that you don’t taste sweet enough without icing.”

I grabbed a piece of white chocolate lace and put it in my
mouth.

“I bet we could get some more to take home.”

“Really?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Don’t you think Claire and Dave will want to save it for
themselves?”

“Some of it sure, but come on. If I tell Claire I really want
some, she’s not going to say no to me.”

“You are very persuasive.”

“Please don’t try and get me hard while I’m eating wedding cake.
It’s confusing for me.”

“Sorry,” I said. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Maybe nothing with you. You’re too damn sexy when you’re eating
cake. Do you have to moan like that?”

“Was I moaning?”

“You weren’t being quiet.”

“Reminds you of last night does it?” I asked.

“Stop it,” he said. “I mean it. Or I’ll tie you down and make
you perform sexual favors in exchange for every single bite of that cake.”

“I’d do it, too,” I said. “Cake or no cake.”

I smiled at her icing filled mouth. “I just wish I’d thought to
slather it on my balls before I served it to you.”

She laughed. “Thank you so much for not doing that.”

I had to ask her about the scars. I couldn’t not ask. Thinking
about them was the only reason I hadn’t sprung out of my robe and pinned her
against the bed already.

I thought after last night- after the cops and the sex and the
coming for ages and the sleeping through the night together- that I knew
everything I ever wanted to know about my best friend. And more importantly, I
thought I knew everything I needed to know to pursue this thing with her,
whatever it was.

But the marks on her arm disturbed me. Not because scars freaked
me out. I had so many scars I couldn’t remember what they were even from. Still,
I only had to look at her scars for a second to know that whatever caused them
hurt. A lot. And it bothered me that she’d heard every gory detail about every
broken, sprained, and fractured bone I’d ever had, every black eye.

I’d regaled her with stories about how I got certain bruises,
boring her to death no doubt with the names of players she didn’t even know and
would never meet. And here she was with these secret marks on her body that I
didn’t know about. Marks that- by the look of it- she’d had a long damn time.

I wanted to forget about it, enjoy our cake, and see how long we
could ride out the romance of our sexy wedding weekend, but I couldn’t put it
out of my head.

Any other girl and it wouldn’t have mattered. It would’ve been
baggage, something I could handle her telling me about or not, something I
would assume she would tell me about when she was ready.

But Lucy should’ve been ready a long time ago, and I couldn’t
distance myself from her pain that way… or her body. I didn’t want to anyway. I
had to know what the hell happened and why I never knew about it. I had to know
right now.

But I let her finish her cake first, even though she was trying
to make it last forever by taking bites The Borrowers would’ve scoffed at.
Still, cake had always been her happy place so I didn’t want to spoil it. And
ice cream. And on some level, I hoped I was, too.

She’d certainly become mine anyway.

“That was delicious,” she said, laying her fork across a
sparkling clean plate. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Every penny’s worth,” she said. “And it was really sweet of you
to go down and get it.”

I shrugged. “I’m a sweet guy.”

“How will we burn off all that sugar?” she asked, tapping her
chin.

“I have a few ideas,” I said. “But first I need to talk to you
about something.”

“Really? You want to talk now? When we have a hotel room all to
ourselves and we’re practically naked?”

I smiled. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Her face fell. “Oh my god what is it?” She sat up straighter and
leaned against the headboard, her bedhead tumbling over the outside of her
robe. “You’re freaking me out.”

I took a sip of champagne and set it back down.

“Jesus, do I need a drink for this?” She reached for her
champagne and took a large swig.

“No,” I said. “It’s not a big deal. Actually, it might be a big
deal.”

She set her glass down on the nightstand.

“I’m hoping you can tell me.”

“Spit it out,” she said, her eyes searching mine.

“It’s your arm.”

“What about it?” she asked, pulling her hands in her sleeves.

“I saw your scars this morning.”

Her face fell.

“And I never saw them before and-”

“Cause you weren’t meant to.”

“Lucy, that’s crazy.”

She clenched her jaw.

“How could you have scars like that, and I don’t know about it?”

“Cause it’s not your problem.”

“Don’t you get it,” I said, scooting closer to her. “Your
problems are my problems.”

She swallowed and looked at me. “It’s not even like that. There
is no problem. It was a long time ago.”

“What happened?”

She sighed.

“Who did that to you?”

“No one.”

“Did your boss-”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“So just tell me.”

Her eyes pleaded with me. “Can’t you just pretend you never saw
them?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“I did it to myself.”

My guts tangled inside me. “What?”

“When we were teenagers.”

“You did it to yourself?”

“After my Mom died.”

I pursed my lips.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.”

“I don’t pity you,” I said. “I’m just sad that you would do that
to yourself.”

“I was just a little fucked up for a while, that’s all.”

“I remember.”

“And the whole thing numbed me.”

I nodded.

“I couldn’t feel anything, Aiden. I felt like a zombie. All the
things that used to make me happy or sad or angry didn’t affect me anymore.”

“It hardened you. I know.”

“And I wasn’t interested in anything. Everything seemed so
pointless.”

She put her hands in her lap and I put a hand over them, smiling
as she wrapped her fingers loosely around mine.

“I just wanted to feel something.”

“When did you start doing that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d heard about it before and one
day I just tried it with one of the box cutters from the junk drawer. At first
I felt kind of stupid, but I kept trying and soon I was sort of looking forward
to it. Like it was a little hobby that I was getting better at, something that
kept me from defining myself as the girl with the dead Mom.”

I squeezed her fingers back.

“I know it sounds crazy,” she said.

“No it doesn’t,” I said. “It’s just sad.”

“It was sad. I was sad. For a long time.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

She looked at me through glassy eyes. “But you were, Aiden. You
were there for me.”

“Obviously it wasn’t enough.”

“Yes it was.”

I exhaled through my nose.

She shook her head. “You have no idea what your friendship meant
to me at the time. And there’s nothing you could’ve done that would’ve changed
the choices I made.”

“I want to believe that.”

“You should. I mean, I know I didn’t exactly choose the
healthiest way to cope, but I was just working through my shit. It was
something I had to do.”

“Maybe.”

“Your friendship helped me through it without you even knowing.
I remember lots of times I’d want to go home and cut myself- almost to the
point of obsession- but I’d want to keep hanging out with you more so I’d skip
it.”

“So you were obsessed with me even then?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about obsessed, but I
definitely thought you were shit cool.”

I smiled.

“And you never treated me like I should be depressed or like I
was different.”

“But you’ve always been different. I’ve always known you were
different.”

“But you didn’t treat me that way,” she said. “And the fact that
I felt normal around you helped me not lose touch. Your friendship kept me from
getting washed away by my own grief.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help.”

“You did everything you could’ve done for me then, and the fact
that I’ve been able to rely on you ever since is one of the things I’m most
grateful for.”

“And where does cake fall on that list?”

She smiled. “I’m more grateful for you than cake.”

“Damn,” I said. “I
must
be good then.”

“You are,” she said. “You’re the best friend a girl could have.”

“So how come you never told me? After all this time?”