Snippet Saturday ~ BFF

Welcome to another Snippet Saturday! Today's theme is BFF. Check out my excerpt and then hop along to the other sites if you're interested!

 

The line between friends and lovers can get a little blurry…especially when you add tequila.

A Chances Are story.

Gabby is serious about her search for Mr. Right, but no one can say she hasn't had a good time looking. She enjoys her numerous dates and the sex that comes with them. Until she finds herself falling for the one man she vows to never love. Her best friend and roommate, Justin. A player in every sense of the word—and a reminder of her awful past.

One night, with the help of a bottle of tequila, things get a little too hot for comfort. She moves out, intent on removing him from the line of temptation.

Justin has different plans. The tequila did more than just change how he sees his good friend. It made him realize he doesn't want to be just friends any more. He's ready for something more intimate, and he'll do whatever it takes to find out why she's running. And convince her to stay.

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EXCERPT

Gabby rushed into the office, letting the door swing shut behind her, followed by the reassuring click of the electronic lock.

She made her way down the hall to where she, Phoebe and Delanie shared an office. She couldn't wait to get back to her desk and get some support from her friends.

She spotted Phoebe's dark curls bent over a stack of papers. Hearing Gabby's approach, she looked up and sighed.

"You're back. Did you bring me anything?"

"Heck yeah, I did. I know what you like." Gabby tossed the chocolate bar onto her friend's desk and then went to sit down at hers. "Where's Delanie?"

"In a meeting. She'll be out in a few. Thanks for the chocolate, you're the best." Phoebe unwrapped the bar and took a bite, closing her eyes and groaning. "I needed this. It's been a crap day."

"You're telling me," Gabby muttered, and pulled out her grilled chicken breast and potato wedges.

"Hmm. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"You brought it up. Don't ask me to drop it now." Phoebe's eyes narrowed and she set down her chocolate. "What happened while you were out?"

Gabby stabbed at the chicken breast with her plastic fork and sighed. "I ran into this guy—my old roommate—at the grocery store."

"And that's a bad thing because…"

"Umm. Hmm." She lifted a potato wedge to her mouth and considered how best to answer that. "We were really good friends."

"Okay."

"Like, really close. We hung out all the time, could talk about anything with each other." She paused and twisted off the lid of her soda. "We even gave each other dating advice and would talk about our sexual

relationships and stuff."

"Yeah, God, I can see why you're upset that you ran into him," Phoebe teased.

Gabby rolled her eyes. "I'm not finished, you dork."

"Evidently. Go on."

"Anyway. We were roomies for two years. Life was great. Things were perfect…"

"So what happened? He screw you over on rent?"

"No." Gabby focused her gaze on the bottle of soda. "He just decided he wanted to screw me."

There was a moment of silence and she lifted her head. Phoebe stared at her with pursed lips and brows drawn together.

"I don't get it," she said after a moment.

Gabby shifted in her chair. "Don't get what?"

"Well, if things were so perfect between you two, why is it a bad thing that you guys fell into that romantic level?"

"Because there is no romantic level with Justin. He's a player—a serial dater. I mean, he makes George Clooney look like the marrying kind." Gabby groaned and stabbed at her chicken again. "It never mattered to me, though, because I wasn't interested in him that way."

"Or so you thought."

"Or so I thought," she agreed, her stomach twisting. "Everything changed the moment he kissed me…"

Phoebe's expression softened with sympathy. "What caused the change? Why after two years did he suddenly decide to kiss you?"

"I'm sure the bottle of tequila we were knocking back helped a bit." She shrugged. "We were watching a fantastic Giants game, talking about relationships and stuff…then it just kind of happened."

"Tequila's a bitch."

"Heck yeah, it is." Gabby gave a soft laugh and pulled the rubber bands from her hair, unthreading her braids.

"You said he tried to have sex with you. Does that mean it didn't happen?"

"It didn't happen. I stopped him before he could get my shirt off." Gabby drew in an unsteady breath.

"I'm sorry. That's probably TMI."

"Not at all. You know I live secondhand through your love life."

Gabby leaned back in her chair and gave her friend a considering glance. "You know…you need to date more."

"We're not talking about me."

"Actually, you need to date, period."

"We're still not talking about me." Phoebe shook her head, black curls bouncing as her lips twitched.

"So you didn't have sex. What happened next?"

"Well, things got weird. Like really weird." She shook her head, letting the loose waves fall over her shoulders. "We wrote the make-out session off to being drunk and never discussed it again. But I couldn't deal. At all. If he went out on a date, I was nauseous all night. If I thought about him getting it on with another girl—hell, even kissing another girl, I'd about throw up my last meal."

"Wow. Gabby, you really like this guy."

"Gabby really likes what guy?"

They looked up as Delanie sailed into the room and dropped a file on her desk. She sat down, ran a  hand through chin-length blonde hair and lifted an eyebrow.

"Come on, don't hold out on me. What did I miss?"

"Gabby is in lust with her old roommate," Phoebe murmured. "They made out and then she moved out."

"Huh." Delanie leaned back in her chair, crossing one long leg over another.

"Stop it." Gabby groaned and took another sip of soda. "I had to move out. He owns the house—his

grandparents left it to him, so it wasn't like I was breaking a lease." She lowered her gaze and picked up

another potato, but barely tasted it. "I moved out when he went down to Cabo with some of his buddies for

the weekend. I left him a check for my last two months and then split."

Delanie cocked her head. "What explanation did you give him for leaving early?"

"Explanation?" Gabby snorted and then bit her lip before admitting, "Well, I really didn't give him

one."

Phoebe winced. "Ouch."

"Ouch?"

"Well, personally I would have tried to explain. Or something—"

"I know. I didn't handle it very well. And maybe I should have returned his calls or answered his emails."

"Wait, you didn't even answer his emails?" Delanie shook her head.

"I just couldn't deal with it, okay?"

"Okay, so what happened in the store?" Phoebe prodded and glanced at Delanie. "They ran into each other at the store this afternoon."

Gabby's cheeks burned. "Err, I tried to hide. But he saw me. Then, only after promising to call him later, I finally got out of there without looking like too big of an idiot."

"And are you going to call him?" Delanie asked.

"Hell, no!"

"So, apparently you still can't deal with it," Phoebe drawled.

"Hey. You just don't get it. We passed the point of no return. There's no going back."

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" Phoebe murmured.

"I'm not calling him," Gabby grumbled and shot a defiant glare at Phoebe. "I'm just not. So don't even try to convince me to, ladies. In fact, let's just drop the whole subject."

"Okay." Phoebe waved her hands in the air and took another bite of her chocolate bar. "I promise, I won't try to convince you. I'm dropping it."

"Me too. I need lunch." Delanie stood up and went to the mini fridge in the corner.

Gabby grunted. Justin had probably gone through a slew of girlfriends in the six months since she'd moved out. The man loved to argue that celibate had the same meaning as celebrate. Which made absolutely no sense.

"I mean, there's just no point in calling him," she said to defend herself. "It'd just be weird. And I don't do weird."

"Oh, are we still talking about this? Sorry, I thought you said something about dropping it. I must have misunderstood." Phoebe's eyes widened in mock innocence and she crinkled her chocolate bar wrapper, tossing it into the waste bin. "I'd say the point would be salvaging two years of friendship you had with this guy."

"It's too late."

"It's never too late," Delanie argued, returning to her desk with a yogurt and a sandwich.

"Trust me on this one." Gabby grabbed the rest of her lunch and went to put it in the fridge, muttering under her breath, "It was too late the minute he touched me."

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