Boyfrenemy

by Sosie Frost

  “You know I’m fine.” He winked at me. “You don’t have to bring food and check on me.”

  “You’re practically living here.” I gestured around the hospital. “It can’t be good for you.”

  “As opposed to what? Want me helping Bryce with the wedding?”

  “You’ve already been through a divorce. I wouldn’t torture you any more this year.”

  “That bad?”

  I was tempted to steal an onion ring. The baby wasn’t so keen on the idea. “I don’t know if we’ll survive to the wedding.”

  He nodded. “Bryce told me about your parents’ fight.”

  “It was awful.”

  “It happens.”

  “Not like this.” I sucked in a breath. “I’m worried.”

  “About what?”

  “I…” It spilled out of me. “They’re getting a divorce. I never thought it’d happen to them. And you were married, and I swore you and Jada would be together forever. And then Bryce and Lindsey have been a couple since high school, and now they’re constantly at each other’s throats.”

  Rick’s eyebrow rose. Point taken.

  “You’re right,” I said. “Lindsey is always at his throat.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Is there anyone out there that’s actually happy with the person they love?”

  “Heavy talk for a burger.”

  “I know.” I apologized. “There’s just…a lot of things happening lately.”

  “You okay?”

  I hadn’t been okay since reading the positive line on the test. “I’m fine. I was talking to Nate and…”

  “Wait.” Rick dropped the burger. “You were talking to Nate? About relationships?”

  “It was pretty stupid.”

  “More than stupid. Nate’s never committed to anything that takes more work than a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  “He has the bar.”

  Rick laughed. “Okay, I take it back. But he used the brewery and bar to fuck over his parents. That takes dedication, but its spite, not commitment.”

  “He likes it.”

  “Sure, and so he’s an expert on craft brews. Not relationships. He only puts the effort into getting a girl in bed. You know that.”

  Boy, did I ever. “He said life isn’t about relationships. It’s about fun and simplicity.”

  “I won’t say he’s wrong, but I don’t think his life is the one you want.” Rick pointed an onion ring at me. “I know you, Mandy. You’re like me. You wanted to find that right person and settle down and have the life that…a life people are supposed to have.”

  “Is it a real thing?”

  “Hell if I know anymore.” He shrugged. “I sure as fuck hope so.”

  “I’m just worried what I want doesn’t actually exist. I see my parents, I see you, and it’s like…everyone’s family is so fragile. I thought you were all in love.”

  He stopped me with a frown. “I’ll tell you right now, I loved Jada. I still do, even if she fell out of love with me.”

  That didn’t make sense. “How can someone fall out of love?”

  “Easy. They fell into it. You can’t control how and when you fall in love. It just happens. No one says it has to last forever. You can hope, but sometimes it doesn’t work that way.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “Well, sometimes it does last forever.”

  “Nice save.”

  Rick laughed. “Mandy, if I understood marriage and love and women, I’d still be married. As it stands, I’m thirty. Divorced. Eating fast food between eighteen hour shifts. I’m no expert.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “No one is. That’s the way of the world. You aren’t dealing with anything logical or rational. It’s all passion—it’s why your parents were together for decades and now fight like they’re going for blood. That’s just a natural progression of something that volatile.”

  I leaned forward, resisting the urge to plunk my head down on the table. How the hell could Rick talk about these things so easily? Like he had it all figured out and saw the world for what it was?

  “Is it stupid to want that perfect life?” I played with his pager. He slapped my hand away before I set it off again.

  “Nope. You won’t find it with Nate though.”

  I looked up, my voice shrill. “Nate? Who said anything about Nate?”

  He drank the rest of his soda, slurping what was left in the ice. “He’s been chasing you.”

  “Nate chases after any girl he sees.”

  “Well, he’s focused on you and only you lately.” Rick pointed the straw at me. “I’m good friends with him, but I’ll be the first to tell you he’s a dog.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “But if you’re interested in him…”

  I shook my head. “I think it’s pretty obvious I don’t know what I want. The only certainty is that Nate Kensington doesn’t fit into my life.”

  “But?”

  I met his eyes. Rick was always the smartest of the group. He was two years older than Bryce, Lindsey, and Nate, and he had a different perspective than us. He saw more than we did.

  “But what?” I asked.

  “What’s really going on, Mandy? You’re not acting right.”

  Probably because I was acting for two people. “I’m fine. Just…thinking about a lot of things. The wedding and my parents going insane is kinda shaking my world a bit.”

  He crumpled up the burger wrapper and bag. His stethoscope wove over his neck, and he clipped his ID and pager to his belt. He smiled, but it wasn’t patronizing.

  “When you want to talk about what’s really bothering you, I’ll be here. Bring me a taco next time.”

  “You got it.”

  He stood, though he rapped his knuckles on the table. “And do yourself a favor? You’re my best friend, and I love you like you’re my little sister. Forgive me for going big-brother at the moment?”

  “Always.”

  “Don’t let Nate get too close. He’s only after one thing. Okay?”

  Rick’s pager beeped, and he thanked me for the lunch with a wave as he jogged away.

  Nate was only after one thing—and he got it. So why was he still chasing?

  I had six weeks until the wedding. Six more weeks to keep the secret before I could sit him down and tell him what had happened.

  I could last six weeks.

  The smell of the cafeteria food twisted my stomach. I bolted from the table, but I didn’t make it to the bathroom. I threw up in the garbage can at the edge of the cafeteria, surrounded by doctors. One patted my shoulder, the OBGYN badge dangling from her scrubs.

  “Don’t worry.” She somehow knew. “Pregnancy is the most magical thing in the world. It’ll all be worth it.”

  Yeah. Right.

  A girl could hope.

  Seven

  Nate

  “You told Mandy you’d help with the musician auditions?”

  Bryce didn’t believe me. He was smarter than he let on. I promised a lot of things to get balls-deep into a girl. Most of it I regretted the next morning.

  This time I’d have promised anything just to talk to Mandy again.

  I offered him a beer from behind the bar, but it was before noon, and he had to save his liver until the reception. He asked for orange juice instead.

  “I figured I’d help you guys out,” I said. “My taste in music is a hell of a lot better than yours.”

  “And Mandy’s okay with it?”

  “Sure.” It was a lie. She had no idea I was coming, but that made it fun. “We could use some time together.”

  “Careful. Lindsey will chew you up and spit you out if you mess with her sister.” Bryce sighed. “At least before the wedding.”

  “Mandy’s perfectly safe with me.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  The first time I wasn’t actually looking to screw around, and even my best friend didn’t trust my intentions. Damn. I’d
be insulted if I wasn’t trying to apologize to Mandy so we could pick up where we left off.

  But she hadn’t answered my calls or replied to my texts all week. It meant that I had to get crafty. Meet up with her in a place she wouldn’t expect me.

  I never wanted a woman as badly as I wanted Mandy. I’d be damned if I pretended to be a prince, and I wasn’t the type of man who’d reaffirm her faith in marriage and relationships. But I could at least remind her she was twenty-three and had an entire life ahead of her before she turned jaded. Why waste the fun years worrying?

  And so I did something I wasn’t proud of. Something I never thought I’d offer.

  I took on more wedding responsibilities.

  Bryce shoved a notebook over my bar and gave me Lindsey’s criteria for what she expected from her musicians.

  “Dude, I can’t thank you enough. I need a break.” Bryce looked like he hadn’t slept, and I doubted it was any pre-wedding sex keeping him up. “Don’t get married, Nate.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.”

  “This magical day?” He sipped the orange juice before gesturing for something stronger. “It feels like we’re paying fifty grand for some appetizers and a day of stress.”

  “Then comes the wedding night.”

  “Yeah...” His voice trailed off. “She wants to try for kids right away.”

  “What?”

  “She said it would bring us closer together.”

  “Closer than a legally binding contract?” I snorted. “Christ, you’ll share a tax return. How much closer can you get?”

  “I know, man. I’m just trying to stay out of swinging range.”

  “Good call.”

  “Lindsey won’t be at the audition. She said she wants to be surprised when she walks down the aisle. So try to find a band that would make her weep but not actually sob.”

  “O-kay.”

  Bryce eyed the beers on tap. He was welcomed to as much as he needed to make it until the wedding. He shook his head.

  “Remember to write what you feel when you hear the music. Lindsey would like a short essay. Nothing crazy.”

  Yeah. Because an essay wasn’t insane.

  Bryce handed me the rest of the homework Lindsey required. I should have said something, should have warned him right then and there.

  Getting married to his girl shouldn’t have come with an alcohol habit and a thousand-yard stare. He should have been happy. Excited to see his woman. Thrilled to touch her.

  Willing to wedding plan just to make sure he hadn’t fucked everything up.

  I didn’t even recognize myself. This was the last goddamned time I let myself get wound around a woman. Mandy was special, but I had no idea she was subject-myself-to-wedding-bands special. Now I couldn’t get her scent, her taste, or her beautiful smile out of my head.

  One more night with her would satisfy my urges. It had to.

  Maybe a morning goodbye quickie too. She’d look gorgeous basking in the golden early morning light. Then we’d have breakfast in bed, the perfect way to regain strength for a mid-afternoon fuck. Hell, while she was already there, it was easy enough to keep her with me for another night…

  That was a dangerous fantasy. Even more dangerous because I already imagined how the morning sun would strike her naked body, wrapped only in a silken sheet. Mandy was all about contrasts. White sheets, dark skin, passionate lover, sweet friend.

  Good girl at home, bad girl for me.

  I would seduce Mandy Prescott again, and I’d introduce her to more pleasure than she knew existed. We’d use each other for stress relief until the wedding, no regrets.

  I had to convince her it was a good idea.

  Easier said than done.

  Lindsey reserved the fellowship hall at my dad’s church for the auditions. I hadn’t been there since Easter, and that wasn’t by choice. Mom had called, flustered and sobbing because she lost the pink Easter hat Dad demanded she wear. Had I not been there to hold her hand, Dad would have turned the sermon from the joyful resurrection to something fire, brimstone, and focused on the role of the family—father as head of the church with the rest of us mere mortals subservient to him.

  I didn’t bother visiting him. His office door was always open, but only to his parishioners. God forbid his own family had problems that required counseling. That would have meant we were imperfect and reflected badly on him.

  I jogged the steps down to the fellowship hall, passing a man tuning his oboe in the stairwell.

  Great. Lindsey ordered a symphony.

  Mandy had set up a card table with a tablet at her fingers, score cards and listed criteria spread out before her. She snapped a selfie to post to whatever bullshit Instagram or Facebook album Lindsey demanded to chronicle her wedding planning.

  I picked a chair from the stack against the wall and plunked it next to Mandy. She flinched, but her expression knotted both relief and apprehension into a wobbly smile.

  “I thought you were Lindsey,” she said.

  “I’m much worse, apparently.”

  She cleared her throat and crossed her legs. Like I’d prop ‘em open and dig in during the auditions.

  “You’ll never be worse than Lindsey,” she said.

  “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Bryce asked me to help judge the bands.” There was some truth to the statement. “Figured I’d come visit. See if you had it handled.”

  Mandy stared straight ahead. “Yep. All good. I’ll be okay on my own.”

  “Nah, that’s not fair.” I crossed my arms behind my head, leaning back in my chair. “No sense doing this alone, baby.”

  “I’m doing a lot of things alone.”

  “No need.” I winked. “I’m at your service tonight.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do—”

  “I’m trying to take some of the pressure off you. Get these bands all auditioned and cataloged for Queen Lindsey.”

  Mandy didn’t believe me, and she had good instincts. It didn’t stop her from gnawing on that perfect, full lip. Her fingers twisted in her skirt.

  I loved to watch her squirm.

  I was serious the last time I trapped her in my embrace. I wanted her to think of me, dream of me, want me every second of the day. When I first tasted her, I fantasized about being the only man who could pleasure her that well. Fortunately, I had no competition.

  But it wasn’t enough. Something about this woman had changed since the last time I slept with her—something that made her absolutely irresistible.

  “The first band comes highly recommended,” Mandy said. “Traditional sound. Quartet.”

  “So…this is how it’s going to be?”

  She knew exactly what I meant. “I have to audition these groups for my sister.”

  “We’re not even going to talk about what happened the other day?”

  Mandy scribbled on the corner of the paper, accidently poking a hole through the essay section with the pen.

  “I thought you said we wouldn’t have to talk about it? My one freebie was supposed to come with no strings.”

  “Yeah, but I think you’d feel better if you talked about it.”

  Her smile wasn’t kind. “You know, Nate. With your reputation? I expected you to back off once you got what you wanted.”

  So did I. “Maybe I want something else.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You.”

  Mandy hesitated. “Do you know what I need?”

  “What?”

  “The only thing I’ve ever asked of you.” Her almond eyes met mine briefly, a quick tease of power she didn’t know she possessed. “I want to make it to the wedding without any more complications.”

  “How do you know I’d complicate things?”

  “You already have.”

  She smiled at the musicians timidly waiting at the door. If they thought auditioning for a wedding was strange, they didn’t say anything
.

  Christ, I hoped there weren’t more brides like Lindsey making demands in the world.

  The first two groups performed their sets and sounded decent. Wasn’t my type of music, but it’d work for a wedding. Of course, my opinion wasn’t good enough for the bride.

  Lindsey armed Mandy with score cards and instructions. She demanded a shit ton of information about her music—well beyond genres and skills. Mood, tone, warmth qualities, sexiness, ability to cover Adele, and set songs. Nothing about price or availability. Apparently if she liked them, she’d hire them, no questions asked.

  Mandy’s foot tapped as she listened. She had no idea what she did to me. How long could a man last watching her wiggle with the beat?

  This was no way to listen to music or judge how romantic a song was. The group struck up a slow ballad and strummed on soft strings with a sultry rhythm. I grabbed the score cards from Mandy and ripped the paper in two.

  Her eyes widened like I’d burned the US flag or, worse, Lindsey’s wedding program.

  “What are you doing?” Mandy screeched. “Lindsey’s gonna kill me!”

  “There’s only one way to figure out what music is right for a wedding.” I didn’t ask, just took her hand. “You gotta dance to it, baby.”

  “Oh, no.” Mandy shrunk away, awkwardly shaking her head, even as the band encouraged her. “Really, I’m good.”

  I tugged her out of the seat. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “Dancing with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s a lot of things that could happen.”

  That wasn’t good enough for me. “I can think of only one—you enjoy it.”

  Mandy dug her heels into the floor, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight me, especially when I lured her with the most powerful weapon I possessed.

  A smile.

  “Nate—”

  I wrapped her in my embrace, but I was a gentleman. I kept my hands at her hips. It was the only thing that prevented her from dissolving into a puddle of embarrassment. I liked that. For whatever reason, it was cute on her. She panicked around me like she didn’t trust herself so near my body.