My Best Friend's Girl

by Allie Faye

  “Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me like a dork.

  Shaking off his antics, I go back to work sorting through the rest of my belongings.

  I’m making good progress when Holden starts reading from one of my notebooks.

  “He wrote poetry in waves that raged against the shore of my body and then he left me to drown.

  My favorite flavor is the taste of you on my lips.

  Slow like honey, I want to drip my essence on your tongue.

  I can’t erase the stain of your sweat from my skin…I don’t want to.

  The flick of my tongue against your clit…my desire.

  A hole in my soul is all that you have left me with.

  You give me butterflies…with one look.

  I want to steal you away, take you somewhere he never has.

  I want to touch you in places he’s never been.

  I want to own you…every inch.”

  His voice is cool and domineering as he speaks my words as though he wrote them himself.

  “Did you write this?”

  I nod as my face turns ten shades of red.

  “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m impressed.”

  “You don’t think it’s dumb?”

  His eyes soften, and he steps closer to me as I go to grab my dirty wet clothes and stuff them into a bag. Holden grabs my wrist and fingers the black lace panties in my hand. “It’s hella sexy, Con.”

  My body trembles as he takes the black lace garment and holds it up to his nose and inhales deeply. “Goddamn, you smell fucking good.”

  “Holden, you shouldn’t…do that.”

  He holds a finger to my lips and I desperately want to lick it.

  “Why?”

  “Because it isn’t right, and you know it.” I yank my underwear back from his hold and shove them into the laundry bag. “We should get going.”

  He nods, his eyes holding my attention.

  “Did you write that about Ezra?”

  “What? No. It’s for a book.”

  “A book?”

  “Yeah, just forget about it. It’s a pipe dream.”

  “You want to be a writer?” He asks as he follows me out the door.

  “It’s stupid.” I shake my head not wanting to get into this right now.

  “If it wasn’t about Ezra then who was it about, Conleigh?”

  “I told you. It was for a book I wrote.”

  His brows perk up as we wait for the elevator. “You wrote a book.”

  “I did. Can we please drop it?”

  The elevator opens, and we maneuver the last bags and boxes inside.

  “Can I read it?”

  “You want to read my book?”

  “Why not?”

  My eyes narrow on him as the elevator doors close. “You like to read?”

  “There’s so much you don’t know about me.” He smirks as those damn steely eyes of his smolder at me daring to trap me in their gaze once more.

  God, how I wish I could find out all the things I don’t know about this man, but I shouldn’t desire to do so. I shouldn’t have the urge to press the emergency stop button and do very bad things to my boyfriend’s best friend. Especially not Holden of all people. But when he looks at me like that, like he wants to eat me alive, I can’t help the images that fly through my head of him having his way with me. The images that inspired my book.

  There is no way I can let Holden read it or Ezra for that matter. Not that he would want to. He finds reading to be boring. You see, my book I submitted to the publishing houses is my deepest and darkest fantasy. It’s about a man stealing his best friend’s wife.

  It’s my wildest dreams, my darkest thoughts.

  It’s all the things I wish Holden would do to me.

  Chapter 10

  Holden

  Packing the last of Conleigh’s stuff in from her dorm, I’m wondering how in the hell she ever fit so much shit into that small room. It took us three trips to get the last of her things brought in from the truck and now she is officially moved in.

  Things were going okay between us and she seemed to be enjoying my company until Bailey showed up and made a wiseass crack about my polluting her air with my presence. She helped Conleigh unpack and left about ten minutes ago, thank God. I hate that snotty bitch.

  I’ve had about all I can stand of chicks today when I get a call from Ezra.

  “What’s up man?”

  “Eh, you know playing boyfriend to your girlfriend while you slave at the office.”

  “Yeah, just don’t get too comfortable, Conleigh belongs to me.”

  Like I need him to remind me.

  She comes down the hall with a laundry basket on her hip looking all cute with her hair pulled up on her head in her signature bun. My eyes gaze down to her legs. She’s changed into a pair of shorts and another fucking pair of socks that slide down her calves a bit further with every step she takes. Goddamn it.

  “Is it cool if I do my laundry?”

  I press the phone between my ear and shoulder. “You don’t need to ask my permission, babe,” I say with a shit eating grin to piss off Ezra and remind him that if he doesn’t treat his girl right, there are other men who will. Like me.

  “Watch it, Holden,” Ezra growls on the other end of the line.

  “Don’t you have work to do? What do you want anyway?”

  “Make sure Conleigh gets that key made today and then get lost. I have a surprise for her and don’t want your furry mug around to kill the mood.”

  “Don’t dis the beard, man. Your girlfriend seems to appreciate it. She told me this morning how she wished you’d grow one.” I laugh as I feel daggers shooting across the kitchen at me as she tosses her clothes in the washer.

  “Yeah, sure. Just be gone when I get home tonight.” He hangs up and I can’t help but watch as Conleigh tugs on one of those fucking socks.

  She suddenly leans up as though she could feel me watching her. She blushes, and I rub my beard. “Thanks for helping me today. I am sure you had better things to do besides lug me and all my crap around.”

  “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “Right,” her voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak. She smiles and goes to the fridge.

  “About the job, my offer still stands. You can start tomorrow. I will text you the details later.”

  “Okay. Thanks. Ezra won’t mind, I’m sure. I do need a job. Damn it, I still haven’t told him I was fired, and I forgot to call my advisor. Shit.”

  “So, I guess whenever you want to go I will run you to the hardware store and get that spare key made.”

  “You would think I would have remembered but after falling on my ass and missing my class, I guess I forgot. I promise you this won’t be a habit. I’m going to look at cars tomorrow.”

  “I really don’t mind being seen with you in my truck. It’s good for the rep,” I tease.

  “Maybe for yours, but I don’t need to be known as another notch on your bedpost.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes and continues poking around in the fridge.

  “Yeah.” I let out a sigh. “I’ll be down in the shop. Just whenever you want to go…you know what, I’ll leave my keys on the counter you can drive yourself.”

  “You sure?”

  “You can’t hurt Tank.”

  “Wait…you named your truck Tank?”

  “Yup,” I call out over my shoulder.

  I don’t want to be another notch on your bedpost. Her words echo in my head as I stomp my way downstairs to my shop. I don’t need this shit, especially from her. She thinks I don’t see the way her eyes smile at me. The way goosebumps pebble across her skin when I touch her or hell, how I see the way her pulse spikes because her chest rises faster and faster. She’s attracted to me. It scares her. Fuck, it scares me too, because I thought I had accepted she was Ezra’s girl. We’ve both kept our distance since the first night we met. Because Bailey saw me
first.

  Taking my aggression out the only way I know how, I grab my hammer and crowbar.

  Board by board, I tear the old pallets apart, trying to shove Conleigh fucking Meyers out of my head. It was easy to do when she wasn’t living here. Now I am surrounded by her constantly prancing around in her fucking socks. I swing the hammer, knocking a board loose. The next one is stubborn, and I need the crowbar to pry the damn thing off. An image of her upstairs bending over to put her clothes in the dryer flashes in my head and I have to fight the urge to go up and catch a glimpse of her again.

  Aggravated, I wipe the sweat from my brow with an old shirt laying on a nearby workbench. I need to finish up the chest for Waylon’s baby.

  Grabbing a rag, I stand in front of the shelf where I store my paint and stain when I hear my truck fire up.

  Next, I hear the grinding of the clutch. Shit, I hope she can drive a standard. I didn’t think to ask her.

  Chapter 11

  Conleigh

  It took me a few tries, but I finally got the gist of changing gears and made it to the hardware store without stalling. I am kind of proud of myself. When I get back, Holden is still down in his shop. The door is open, so I walk in to give him his keys. I’ve never been down here before. There’s stacks of wood all around, of all different colors and sizes. There are saws of different makes and they make me nervous. I can’t help but think of Holden nearly sawing off a finger or something in here.

  Looking around at the different projects he has started, I never knew he was so talented. Did he build these chairs and tables?

  I hear the grinding of a sander and follow the sound until I find the source.

  Holden is shirtless with a belt sander in hand going over the edges of a chest. My eyes aren’t on that chest though, they are on Holden’s pecs. Good lord the man is in shape. Sweat ripples down his abs, leading to the V- shape that vanishes beneath the waist of his jeans and the trail of hair that leads to other places. One place in particular, but I shouldn’t be thinking such wicked thoughts about Holden of all people.

  He looks up, catching me staring at him, and I don’t dare look away because he has already caught me. The sander shuts off and he sits it to the side. “Did you need something?” He lets out a grunt and takes the cap off a bottle of water, chugging half then dumping the rest over his head.

  “Um…” I wet my lips, suddenly feeling hot and thirsty. Saw dust forms clumps in his hair and on his torso. I fight the urge to dust them off as beads of water race down his neck. “Keys.” I clear my throat. “I have your keys.” I reach them out to him and when his fingers close in brushing against mine I feel like I have been shocked. I swallow, feeling strange…sweaty even. Sweet lord my panties are wet. What’s wrong with me?

  “Thanks,” he says, eyeing me curiously.

  Does he know I’m turned on? My cheeks flush and his brow furrows.

  “So, um…did you build all this stuff?” I ask waving my hand around at all the different pieces.

  “Yup.” He fires the sander up again and goes back to work. I should go upstairs and finish my laundry, but my feet won’t move. I watch Holden work, but mostly I look around his shop, taking in all the different items he has created by hand. And what strong large hands he has.

  The sanding has stopped, and he is sucking up the dust with a hose. His eyes though…those stormy eyes are centered on me. His gaze is so intense it forces me to look away. My eyes land on two wooden butterflies and my hand instinctively goes to my arm where I have a matching tattoo. Walking over to them, I reach up to touch them, taken aback by the detail that has gone into the pattern of their wings.

  “Did you make these?” I call out.

  My question is met with the heat of Holden at my back. There I go, biting my damn lip and chewing on the inside of my jaw to keep from turning around to that damn bare chest of his.

  “I made them for you,” his gruff voice whispers against the shell of my ear and my arm touches the wall of his sweaty chest. Sawdust grits against my skin and I am afraid to move. I don’t know what’s coming over me today.

  “Why?” I dare to ask.

  “Because I knew you’d like them. Figured I’d give them to you someday.”

  “And why haven’t you…given them to me?”

  I have to turn and see his face.

  He appears angry but as lost as I feel right now. Why is he mad?

  “Did I do something?” I side step from his glare as it pierces through me and looking at him now, maybe I misread him…he’s hungry for something, possibly me?

  I would be a liar if I said I didn’t know Holden found me somewhat attractive. The first night we met he told me he wanted to kiss me, and God did I want him to, but it would have ruined everything. I’d be a liar if I also said I hadn’t wondered what would have happened if he did kiss me.

  It’s just as I have imagined. The way he is looking at me right now as he takes a step closer.

  “Is it uh…hot in here?” I step back looking around, not knowing my way around the room.

  “I feel fine. What’s the matter, Conleigh?” He takes a step forward and I feel all his usual joking is aside.

  “I’m just gonna go finish my laundry.” I turn to leave when his voice pulls me back.

  “It’ll never last. You and Ezra. We both know that first night at the bar who should’ve taken you home. It sure as hell wasn’t him.”

  “Why are you doing this? For two years, Holden. Two years I have watched you fuck anything that moves. Why bother with me now?”

  “He doesn’t deserve you.”

  I shake my head as tears threaten to fall.

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  As I am walking up the stairs, he comes through the door. “I did that this morning with your sock!”

  I slam the apartment door and go straight to mine and Ezra’s room, locking the door behind me.

  We need to get our own place.

  —–——

  At some point, I must have dozed off. I wake up to the light tapping of a knock on the bedroom door. “Con, let me in, baby.” Ezra.

  Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I am still on edge over Holden’s strange behavior. Perhaps he was drinking.

  “Hey,” I say, unlocking the door and allowing him into the room.

  “Were you sleeping? Why was the door locked?’

  “I must have dozed off and just habit from the dorms I guess.”

  “Well, get dressed. I have a surprise for you.” He smiles and ushers me toward the closest. “Wear something nice.”

  Wear something nice. He sounds like my mother. Ugh.

  “How nice? Where are we going?”

  “Dinner. I have a client meeting us for a drink, but he won’t stay long.”

  I sigh. I thought he was taking me out, but what he really means is he wants me there as eye candy. I’d rather stay here and write.

  Ezra brushes past me, going into the closet and pulling out my signature little black dress. “I was thinking this would be perfect. You know I love it on you.”

  I want to say to him, and you know how much I hate dressing up, but I refrain. I smile and take the dress from his extended hand.

  Ezra eyes his watch as though he is in a hurry and I am slowing him down. I hate when he does this. He plans a date and doesn’t tell me he has reservations and conveniently has a client who stays through the whole damn meal. I guess it is sweet that he is trying to include me and balance our relationship and his career, but I usually end up sitting there bored and listening to them discuss business while I look pretty. I hate it and would rather stay home.

  Chapter 12

  Conleigh

  When we get to the restaurant our table isn’t ready, so we are seated at the bar where Judy and some older guy in a suit that looks like it costs more than I will ever make in ten years joins us. I sip on a cocktail while they talk business. I can’t help but notice the way Judy’s eyes seem to linger on Ezra a moment too long or how sh
e finds a way to touch him on the arm briefly every few minutes.

  Maybe I am paranoid or simply feeling guilty for having sexual thoughts about Holden.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the ladies’ room,” I tell Ezra and he doesn’t even look at me. He waves his hand over his shoulder with his back to me and continues talking. Bastard.

  I go to the bathroom and go straight for the largest stall in the corner. What I really want to do is go home, but I find myself typing notes on my phone for the follow-up book to my love triangle book. I am still holding onto hope that someone will love it. As I type away lost in my fictional world I hear a woman talking on the phone.

  “It’s pretty pathetic that she’s so blind. I mean, he hasn’t said three words to her since I arrived. He’s only with her because her stepdad is some big shot surgeon and promised to take out a huge ad with him. He doesn’t want to lose the account. I’ve been fucking him for months. She’s a doormat.”

  She continues rambling on, but I can’t listen to anymore. I peer through the crack between the door and the wall, but I can’t see her. However, I recognize her nasally voice. Judy, Ezra’s fucking assistant. She did this shit on purpose. Well, fuck her. Though I suppose Ezra has already. With my head held high, I plaster a smile on my face and go for the sink, ignoring her as she applies her lipstick feigning a shocked expression.

  I make for the soap and accidentally elbow her, causing her to smear her lipstick down her chin. “Oops,” I call out, not bothering to hide my pleased smile.

  “It’s fine.” She grabs a tissue and dabs at the red line.

  I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to do. I should be upset. I should want to bash her head into the sink, but I don’t. I feel eerily calm. I simply smile at her and dry my hands. She keeps glancing at me, waiting for me to make a move or say something, but that is what she expects me to do. Get upset and do or say something to justify her means. Not happening.

  I rejoin Ezra at the bar and go for my drink with a shaky hand.

  “Are you okay?” He questions and it’s now that I notice he is alone.

  “Never better.” I down the rest of my drink and beam at my no-good piece of shit cheater of a boyfriend.