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“You know, I’ve never had a girl tell me that I possess the uncanny ability to dehydrate the nether regions of the female race with just my facial hair.”
“Well, that can only mean one thing.” Confused, I ask, “What’s that?” “That there is no other choice than to become the greatest friends of all time.” I smirk. “Only if you shave.”
you must be Ophelia Fairweather-Fern.”
“It will behoove you to know that I can dish it, but I can’t take it.”
“Hold the fuck on . . . you’re the author of Lovers, Not Brothers?” “Wait.” I sit up taller. “You’ve heard of it?”
Huxley is the grump, the domineering, the take-no-prisoners kind of guy. JP is the funny one, the easygoing guy, the instigator at times. And me . . . well, I’m the levelheaded—the sounding board—and the good guy. So having my name slandered with vehement lies is just
Reaching up to the wall, I rap my knuckle four times. Like clockwork, she knocks three. Four knocks for four letters in love. Three knocks for three letters in you.
Brian Manchester Beaver. Quite the name.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on.” He looks me in the eyes. “You’re in love with your best friend, and you just finally realized it.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I say as I look up at Banner. “Fuck, I think I like her.” Banner shakes his head. “Nah, man. You love her. End of discussion.”
“That’s no goddamn excuse.” He pushes away from the bed and grips his hair. “Fuck, if you were my fiancée, my wife, I’d never let you leave the bedroom. Your voice would be hoarse from every fucking orgasm I gave you.”
“Can’t wait to see what you do today. Love you, Lia.” “L-love you,” I say, stuttering over the words, not because I’ve never said them to him before, but because of the way his eyes penetrate me when he says it, like he’s trying to convey something. Like he’s trying to tell me something else, something deeper, but before I can decipher exactly what it is, he’s heading toward the living room and then out his door. To his date. With Birdy.
First and foremost, I love her. I let that sink in. I let myself sit in my feelings and understand them. Lia is the most precious person in my life. She’s my ride or die. She means everything to me. She’s my girl.
“What do you want?” she asks. You. Everything about you. Your soul. Your mind. Your heart. Your body. I want all of you, every last fucking inch of you. “Still processing that. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
“Lia, if I have learned anything through your brief and torrid engagement with Brian, it’s this. I love you too much to be happy to love you less.”
Because if you married me, I would be both. Best friend and husband. Period.
“We just matched. Like when everyone left Scrabble that night, and we were alone, I felt like my missing puzzle piece was put into place.”
Pickle. Breaker: That just made me smile.
