Marrying My Best Friend's BFF: A Friends to Lovers, Accidental Baby Romance (Love You Forever Book 2)

by Alexis Winter

  Van, Ridge, and Lane all make their way into the dressing room and they’re all rowdy and ready to party.

  “That crowd ate us up tonight!” Van says, tossing his drum sticks into the air and catching them.

  “Fuck yeah they did. Did you see that little vixen in the front row giving me doe eyes?” Ridge asks, dropping down onto the couch and running a hand through his sweaty, dark hair.

  “Yeah, I did actually. Usually I think you make this shit up, but I did see her. I bet she’s waiting for you right now. So, what do you think, Luna? You wanna stick around for a few rounds?” Lane asks, stepping up to my side to check himself out in the mirror. Lane is the most vein one in the group. Other than me, he’s the pretty face in the band. The one that gets slapped up front in all of our pictures and advertisements.

  “Sure, I’m down,” I reply, pushing a strand of my black hair with purple tips behind my ear. I give my reflection one last look over. My blue eyes are lined with thick dark liner and a big false lash. My lips are the perfect shade of crimson, and this top shows just enough of my cleavage and toned stomach. “I’ll be at the bar when you guys are done packing shit up.” I spin around on my heel and leave the dressing room and the boys behind.

  I find my way to the bar and I sit on the only open barstool available. The male bartender comes over immediately and pours another Jack and Coke. He offers up a flirty smile and flexes his biceps more than needed. “This one is on me. You guys did awesome up there tonight.”

  I take the glass and stir the ice with the straw. “Thank you.”

  He nods. “How long you been playing and singing like that?”

  I shrug one shoulder as I take a sip. “My whole life basically, but we didn’t form the band until two years ago.”

  “Well, you looked sexy up there. I get off at two if you wanna hang around.”

  I give him a flirty smile. “I would, but I actually have to work in the morning.”

  “You work?” He arches one of his pierced eyebrows.

  “Doesn’t everybody? I mean, being in a band is great, but you don’t make much when you have to split the five hundred bucks you make at a gig with five people.”

  “Five?”

  I nod and give him a duh look. “We have a roadie. The guys decided they wanted to party more than lug equipment around.”

  “And get to hang out with you in the process? Hell, I’d do that for free.” He places his forearms on the bar and leans in just a bit.

  “Oh, well then you’re hired. Be ready to rock at nine tomorrow night. We’re playing at The Pub across town.”

  He laughs. “Well, unfortunately I’ll be here, slinging drinks.”

  I snap my fingers. “Damn, and I thought this was destiny.”

  He laughs at my joke and pushes himself off the bar. “Another time perhaps.”

  “I’ll see ya around.” I take my drink and walk through the bar, trying to find a table that’s open and big enough to seat the entire band. In the far back corner, there’s one booth left. I squeeze through the crowd and take a seat, scooting to the center to wait for the guys, but before they can find me to claim their seat, I find the whole booth filled up with random guys who saw me on stage and decided to try their hand with fate.

  I’m fielding off questions left and right while trying to be as polite as possible but the drunk assholes don’t seem to take the hint. Van appears and sees that I’m trapped. He walks over to the table and looks down at the four guys that managed to cram theirselves into our booth.

  “Oh, hey,” he says, looking carefree. “I didn’t realize that you all joined the band.”

  One dumb ass looks up. “Oh, no. We just wanted to get to know Luna here a little better. I mean, can you blame us? She’s sexy as fuck, and those lips… they’d look great wrapped around a cock, don’t you think?”

  Van smirks. “Yeah, they really do. Mine.” He grabs the guy by the front of his shirt and yanks him upward, out of the booth. He spins him around and threatens to whip his ass before pushing him back into the crowd of people. The rest of the guys take the hint and book it out of there. When Van turns back around to face me, he sees all the guys have vacated and he smiles as he plops down.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I shake my head as a smile plays on my lips. “I didn’t say thank you.” I take a sip. “What if I actually wanted one of them?”

  He frowns. “Did you?”

  “No,” I laugh out.

  Van and I are the best of friends and always have been. We bonded over our love of music and formed this band together. Nothing has ever happened between us, but that doesn’t stop people from thinking that we are doing something. And on the rare occasion, like tonight, he claims we’re together to get other assholes to leave me alone. Other than our pretend relationship in times of need, we’re simply just band mates and best friends.

  “Where’s dumb and dumber?”

  Van lifts his hand, motioning toward the bar. “Looking for their next conquest.”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head. “If those dumb asses aren’t careful, they’re going to catch an STD before we even have the chance at fame.”

  He laughs and leans in to say, “That or they’ll fuck up and knock one of these bitches up. Could you imagine the child support a rock star has to pay?” His eyes double as he pictures the number.

  I smile. “Better make sure you’re wrapping it up tight.”

  He scoffs. “Why the hell do you think I’m over here with you? It’s not for my health.” He shrugs. “Or I guess in a way, it kind of is,” he laughs out.

  I finish off my drink and push the glass away. “I think I’m going to call it a night, big shot.” I start to slide my way out of the booth.

  “I guess I got the van and the equipment?”

  “You think I would trust that big of a job to those two jack-off’s?” I point in their direction, but he just laughs and waves me off.

  It’s going on ten when I pull myself out of bed the next morning. I practically sleepwalk to the shower, but I manage to pull myself together as the hot water wakes me up. I blow dry my hair and curl the ends before applying some makeup. I have to sort through my clothes by picking them up out of the floor and sniffing them. I find something acceptable and grab my things to head to work.

  I’ve been working at Mick’s Music since I was sixteen. Because of that, we have a good relationship. I get any day off I need in trade for managing the rest of the employees and managing the store. I slide my key into the lock and let myself inside. I disable the alarm and go to put my things away to open the register. At noon on the dot, I turn on the Open sign. It’s sad to say that not many kids are interested in learning how to play musical instruments anymore. When I was a kid, you couldn’t get me out of this place. Luckily for me, Mick is good friends with my dad so I spent most of my free time here as a kid, playing instruments that I knew we couldn’t afford to buy. My first guitar came from this store actually. It was a Fender Stratocaster. It was sea foam green with a cream colored pick guard. I had my eye on her the day she arrived. Mick knew how much I loved it and he made me a deal. I volunteered at the store after school and every weekend until I put in enough hours to buy the guitar myself. The guitar at the time, cost nearly a grand. That’s a lot of money for a thirteen year old kid. But I managed to get it worked off in one year. She was my pride and joy and I still have her to this day. She’s not as beautiful as she once was. Now, she’s got chipped paint, stickers, and scuffs all over her body, neck, and head, but the sentiment is still there and I’ll never get rid of her. I even named her Journey because I believed that she was going to take me everywhere.

  The store stays pretty busy throughout the first part of the day. I don’t make any big sale’s, mostly just people coming in to buy picks, new strings, and amp cords. Doesn’t matter much to me. I still get paid hourly, but I get commission on bigger sales—they’re few and far between. It’s going on four when a man walks in wearing a finely
pressed suit. He screams money. I can tell by looking at him that he ins’t here to buy stings. He’s here because his busy, corporate life is getting boring and he’s looking for a journey of his own, something to bring some meaning back into his life. Guitar or drums? I’m not sure but I’m going to find out.

  I walk up to the man. “Can I help you find anything?”

  He turns and looks at me and I feel my heart skip a beat. He’s tall and lean and has neatly combed dark hair. His jaw is sharp and has a bit of scruff growing on it now that it’s getting to be late in the day. His eyes find mine and they’re a delicious shade of green, something that reminds me of wet summer grass in the morning.

  I see those green eyes of his start at the top of my head, work their way slowly down my body, before making their way back up. He clears his throat. “Yes, actually. I was looking for a guitar for my nieces birthday.”

  “How old is your niece?” I ask.

  “She’s turning fourteen,” he replies and it seems that he can’t keep his eyes to himself. He stares at everything from the purple in my hair to the deep, dark red of my lips.

  “And are you thinking something electric or acoustic?”

  “Electric, I think…” His face twists up in confusion. “She likes rock and punk rock type of music.”

  I nod. “Electric is the way to go. Right this way.” I lead him over to the far corner that holds all our electric guitars. “Now, does she have a favorite color?”

  He looks at the selection on the wall. “I really don’t know her all that well. Pink is a girl color, right?”

  I scoff. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” I ask because he hasn’t told me and I need to know.

  “Oh, sorry.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Daniel. Daniel Smith, attorney at law.”

  I shake his hand. “I’m Luna. Listen Daniel. When you’re picking out a guitar, you need to pick one that speaks to your soul. This guitar will be an extension of you… or your niece. Do you know anything about her?”

  He purses his lips together. “I have a picture.” He pulls his cell out of his jacket pocket and scrolls around until he has a picture to show me. He flips around the phone so I can see a picture of his niece. She has bright red hair—the unnatural kind—with black roots. Her blue eyes are lined darkly and her face is overdone in makeup. She’s wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt with the prism on the front, but it’s been ripped and pinned back together in a very cool way. In the background, of what I assume is her bedroom, there are posters on the wall of all the greats. Pink Floyd, Led Zepplin, and The Rolling Stones. I’m actually impressed that a kid her age would even know these bands, let alone, have their posters on the wall.

  I smile. “She’s very cool,” I tell him. “She must have cool parents.”

  He smiles as he puts the phone away. “Yeah, my brother is more of a free spirit than I am. So, did you find any clues to color?”

  I shrug. “The pink guitar is a baby pink and I don’t think she’d love it. I would suggest going for the electric purple or green. Black is always cool too because then she can decorate it how she wants with stickers and stuff.”

  He nods as he takes everything in. “I like the purple.” He points at it.

  I grab it off the wall and take it down, handing it over.

  He looks over it to make sure the paint isn’t chipped.

  “Do you want to hear her?” I ask, grabbing an amp cord off the stand.

  He shakes his head. “I really wouldn’t know anything about it.” He hands it back.

  I plug it in and turn on the amp. “I can play you something if you want to listen?” I hold out the headphones that’s hooked up to the amp.

  He nods and pulls them on.

  I quickly think about a song and pick one that belongs to my band. My fingers glide across the strings like they have a mind of their own. At this point, they probably do. I play the first verse of one of our songs and lead into the chorus. He listens with wide eyes, causing his forehead to wrinkle. He’s surprised that I know how to play. Most people are, assuming that I just work here for the amazing paycheck. I want to snort thinking about my usual check of five hundred bucks.

  I stop playing and unplug the amp. He takes off the headphones and hands them back. “You’re really good.”

  I smile. “Thanks. I’m actually in a band.” I bend down and turn the amp off.

  “Really?” He seems impressed.

  I laugh and nod. “Yeah. Now, with an electric guitar, you’ll need an amp and a cord. She have any of that or will you be adding it to your order?”

  He shrugs. “Might as well get the whole set up,” he breathes out.

  I grab a cord for him and move on to our rows of amps. “What’s she going to be using this for?”

  He looks over them, opens his mouth, but no sound comes out because he has no idea.

  “You could go with this littler personal amp if she’s just going to be practicing in her room. But she wants to start up a garage band or something, she’ll need something a little bigger like this.” I place my hand on the amp and he agrees.

  I grab what he needs and start my journey to the counter.

  Behind me, he follows along until he says, “I hope this isn’t too forward, but you wouldn’t be offering guitar lessons, would you?”

  I stop and turn back to face him. My brows draw together as I bite on my lower lip. I could use the money. “What’s the job pay?”

  He shrugs as he closes the couple of feet between us. “I don’t really know. What’s an hour a week run for?”

  I scoff. “An hour a week? How about an hour a day, three days a week?”

  He smiles but looks down at the wallet he’s holding in his hands like he doesn’t want me to see his smile. He’s a lawyer. I’m sure he’s used to the constant back and forth or negotiating terms. “Three hours a week it is.”

  I smile. “A hundred bucks a week.”

  “It’s a deal,” he agrees and I turn to head to the counter. I set his things down and write my number on a piece of paper, sliding it over to him. “Text me the info?”

  He nods once, smile still in place as he slips it into his wallet.

  “So, what’s the name of your band?”he asks, putting my number into his wallet and pulling out a card.

  “Wander King’s,” I reply, typing my employee password into the computer to unlock it.

  He steps up to the counter to pay. “I’ll have to look you guys up, some time.”

  I smile as I scan his items into the computer. “We have a show tonight at The Pub. Come check it out. But I have to warn you, our shows can get a little crazy some times. Not to brag, but we’re kind of local celebrities around here.” I flash him a flirty smile, the kind I usually give to the guys in the crowd to get them going.

  He swipes his card. “Then I’ll definitely have to check you out then. I can’t be the only one in Chicago who hasn’t seen a Wander King’s show!”

  I laugh as I hand him his receipt. “Then I guess I’ll see ya there.”

  “I guess so.” He grabs his things and heads toward the door. He spins around to face me as he pushes the door open with his back. His eyes linger a little longer on mine, but he finally walks out the door, ending our connection.

  The moment he leaves, I pull up Instagram and type his name into the search bar. He pops up immediately and I can’t help but to scroll through his pictures. He is some kind of fancy lawyer. There’s pictures of him sitting at his desk and another of him shaking hands with some tall guy in front of a sign that reads, Young & Smith. I look up the business and see that it’s a local law office owned by Calvin Young.

  The door opens, causing the bell above it to ring. I pull my attention away from the phone and set it down, going to help the customer as they pick out the strings they’ll need.

  Grab Rocking His FAKE World

  Read the rest of the Love You Forever Series here!

  The Wrong Brother

  Rocking His Fake
World

  Breaking Up with My Boss

  My Accidental Forever

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  * * *

  It’s no secret I’ve always had a crush on Damon Strickland.

  My best friend’s older brother and the center of every single one of my fantasies.

  * * *

  He’s a walking, talking temptation.

  * * *

  That cocky grin and those broad, athletic shoulders.

  You know what they say about a man with big hands right?

  * * *

  Growing up, we always tormented one another.

  I was the nagging, annoying little girl he hated

  And he was the man-whoring, douchebag I couldn’t seem to get over.

  * * *

  Now as adults he actually came through and helped me land a job at my dream company.

  * * *

  How the hell am I supposed to focus when all I can think about is tearing that tight suit from his tempting body!

  * * *

  What’s even worse?

  He forgot to mention, he’s my boss.

  * * *

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