My Favorite Mistake

by R. L. Kenderson

  Last night had been a whirlwind of sex, sleep, and more sex, and I’d never gotten a chance to eat. I had known my best friend was suffering, but I’d had no idea that he would refuse to talk about anything. Instead, every time he woke up and I tried to comfort him, he would pull me into his arms and make love to me.

  Now, not only was I starving, but I was also thirsty, and my vagina was sore and wet. We hadn’t used protection once last night. I blamed it on the grief, and since we had both already been tested, it wasn’t something I was going to bring up with him. He already had enough on his plate.

  I grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water, and downed the whole thing. As I set the empty glass down, I spotted a banana in the corner and practically attacked it as I shoved huge bites in my mouth. I never knew a banana could taste so good.

  Feeling a tad more human, I poured a bowl of cereal and took some time with scarfing that down. Only after that did I feel more like I could think. I had to figure out what I needed to do today.

  First things first. I needed to let work know I wasn’t coming in and go home to get some clothes. I should also probably find out if there was anything I could do to help Griffin’s mom.

  I called work to tell them that someone close to me had died. I had to take vacation time since Glen wasn’t a family member, but it was worth it if it meant I could be there for my best friend.

  I was just hanging up when Griffin came out of his bedroom in sweatpants, looking awful. His skin was pale, and he had bags under his eyes. My heart went out to him.

  “Hey,” I said. “Can I get you something to eat?” I stood up from the stool at his counter. “Or coffee. Sorry, I haven’t made any yet.”

  He put his hand on mine as he sat down. “Madeline, you don’t have to baby me. I can make my own coffee.”

  “It’s no trouble. You know I’ll drink it too.”

  He lifted his hand. “Go ahead.”

  I got the coffee started and came around to him. Something told me that I needed to approach Griffin with caution. Maybe it was last night. The only real emotion he’d shown was when he cried on my shoulder.

  “How are you feeling?”

  He shot me a look.

  “Stupid question. I’m sorry.” Think, Madeline. Think. “Is there anything you need me to do today? I already called into work, so I’m free to help out wherever I can.”

  He sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “Too late. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Even if I make you leave?” he said with a scowl.

  I nearly took a step back. Griffin was never mean to me, but his comment had almost hurt my feelings. I took a second to remind myself that he was heartbroken, and when people were in pain, they often lashed out at the ones they loved the most. And that included best friends.

  I squared my shoulders. “You can try, but I’ll just come back like a bad rash.”

  The corner of his mouth tilted up for a second, and I took that as a good sign.

  “Your mom is probably going to need help today. Do you want me to take care of the bar? Do you want me to close it for the day? I can call your employees and put out a closed sign.”

  He dropped his forehead in his hand. “Shit. I don’t know what to do. I should close the bar for a few days, but I don’t know if my mom needs help paying for the…” He swallowed. “For the funeral.”

  I remembered when my grandfather had died and my parents spoke in low tones, so my grandmother and I wouldn’t hear. I knew funerals weren’t cheap.

  “How about you let me help with the bar? I don’t know everything you do, but I can probably wing it for a few days. And we’ll close on the day of your father’s funeral, so you don’t have to worry about any emergencies.”

  “Thank you,” he said without meeting my eyes.

  I wasn’t sure if he was going to cry again, and I also knew that if he did, he would probably be embarrassed in the light of day.

  I put my arms around him, and he buried his nose between my breasts. “You’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me. I am your best and longest friend. I hope you know I’d do just about anything for you.”

  I thought I had gone too sentimental for him, but he raised his head until he reached my neck, where he started kissing me.

  I closed my eyes and leaned into him.

  No man could make me lose concentration like Griffin, but it was a good thing the rest of my body said no. When he put his hand between my legs, I winced and stepped back.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  His eyebrows flew up. “No?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t think you’ve ever said no to me before.”

  “We’ve never had so much sex before. I’m sore.”

  He frowned and looked down. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  I lifted his chin. “Don’t be sorry. I didn’t say no to anything last night.” I smiled to reassure him. “But right now, my vagina can’t handle any more sex.” I looked down at his pants to see him hard and shook my head in amazement. “Frankly, I am shocked to see you can get it up.”

  He smiled.

  “Just give the poor girl a day or so, and then she’ll be ready for you again.” I ran my hand over his scruff. “I’m going to go home, shower, and get a change of clothes, and then I’ll be back. Do you think you can give me a rundown of the business? I’ve seen you work, but I don’t know everything you do.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you need anything while I’m out? Do you want me to call anyone for you? Do you need me to check on your mom?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll call her in just a few.” He turned his head away. “I just can’t believe he’s…”

  I hugged him. “I know, baby. I know.”

  Thirty-Three

  Griffin

  I stared at my reflection as I straightened my tie. I had shaved today, but I still looked like I hadn’t slept all week.

  “Sorry, Dad, this is as good as I’m going to get.”

  I stepped back and took one last look before I left the room. I hadn’t dressed up in forever, and I hated that the reason I was wearing a suit was because today was my father’s funeral.

  Madeline poked her head in my bedroom, wearing a conservative black dress. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

  I honestly didn’t know what I would have done without her over the last few days. She had pretty much taken over running the bar for me while I helped my mom plan the funeral. I was lucky she could take time off work to help me run my business. I should tell her to add herself to the payroll because she deserved to be compensated.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  One would think after all the planning I had done this week, I’d be ready, but I wasn’t.

  The funeral went as well as could be expected. All my friends arrived to show their support, and even though it was a cold December day, the sun blazed high in the sky.

  The gathering after the funeral and burial was at my parents’ house, and I hated every second of it.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” the hundredth person today said to me.

  I knew they didn’t know what else to say, but I was sick of hearing it. My dad dying was way more than a “loss.” He was my father, and he was gone forever.

  I snuck out to the garage and turned on the heater to stay warm. I needed a little time away from all the well-meaning guests, but I felt bad about leaving my mom in there alone.

  I was going through my father’s tools when the door opened behind me. I quickly turned to see who had caught me skipping out. When I recognized Blake, I immediately relaxed.

  “I thought you were my mother or my aunt coming out here to drag me back in.”

  “Nah,” Blake said as he walked down the concrete stairs and over to me. He pulled out a flask from his suit jacket. “You look like you could use this.”

  I lifted the cap and took a long drink. The whiskey went down with ease.


  “Thanks,” I said, handing it back. I wasn’t a huge drinker despite my choice of business, but sometimes, there was no substitute for alcohol.

  Blake took a sip and gave it to me again.

  “I probably shouldn’t,” I said.

  “And you probably shouldn’t be hiding out in the garage after your father’s funeral.”

  “Good point.” I took another drink. I tried to look inside. “There’s not much left.”

  “Then, let’s finish it up.”

  “If I get drunk, my mother is going to kill me.”

  Blake scoffed. “You’re not going to get drunk. But if you’re lucky, you might get a much-needed buzz.”

  MADELINE

  I watched as Griffin and Blake came in from the garage, laughing.

  I groaned and rushed over to them before all the guests saw them. I stopped them both with hands to their chests. “Gentlemen, I would like to remind you that you are at a funeral reception, and many would not appreciate your humor.”

  They both tried to school their faces, but they couldn’t stop snickering.

  I leaned in closer to them. “Are you drunk?”

  There wasn’t any alcohol being served today, so I couldn’t be sure.

  “Blake brought a little something,” Griffin said.

  Blake put his hand on mine. “I would have saved you some if I had known you wanted to join us.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Griffin reached over and took my hand from Blake’s. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said to me.

  I frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  He seemed to think quite a bit about this. “No.”

  “Then, can it wait? Your mother has guests. You have guests. They’re here to see both of you.”

  “Please. I don’t want to hear one more person tell me they’re sorry.” He leaned down and whispered, “I think I might punch the next person who says it.”

  I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Maybe it was a good idea to take him somewhere and talk to him before he embarrassed himself and his mom.

  “Let’s go talk,” I said. I studied Blake. “Are you going to be okay? You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?”

  He put his hand to his chest. “Moi?”

  “Yeah, you.”

  “I can hold my liquor. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  I rolled my eyes. I doubted that, but Griffin was my main concern.

  “Will you go find Caleb, please?” I asked Blake. Hopefully, Caleb would keep an eye on him.

  I put my arm in Griffin’s. “Let’s go talk.”

  He led me down to his old bedroom. He stopped at the doorway and looked at his parents’ bedroom door. He must have realized he was staring because he shook his head and walked into his bedroom.

  I closed the door behind me. “Okay, what is it—”

  Before I could finish, Griffin was kissing me.

  My best friend had been very needy and overly sexual over the last week. I had been there for him when he needed me, but now wasn’t the time.

  I pulled away. “Griffin, did you have something you needed to talk to me about, or did you just want to come in here and have sex?”

  He grinned. “I want to have sex.”

  I put my hand on his chest. “No.”

  “No again?”

  “Griffin, I am not having sex with you here. The house is full of people mourning your father.” I took a deep breath and dared to say the next words. “You should be mourning your father.”

  He lost his smile, and his face turned angry. “I don’t want to mourn him. I want him here.”

  I picked up his hand. “I know you do, Griff, but—”

  He yanked his hand away. “No, you don’t. You don’t know. Both of your parents are still alive.”

  I nodded and looked down at my hands. “You’re right. Wrong choice of words.”

  “Forget it. I’m out of here.”

  I raised my head in time to see him throw open the bedroom door and march out of the room.

  I followed him into the living room.

  “Blake?” Griffin shouted.

  Blake popped up. “What?”

  “Let’s go.”

  “All right.”

  Within seconds, the two of them walked out the front door.

  Camile came up and stood beside me.

  “He’s grieving,” I told her.

  “I know.” She turned and walked away.

  Griffin didn’t come back, and when I went to his apartment after the reception, he wasn’t there either.

  Not knowing what else to do, I reluctantly went home and texted him for the twentieth time.

  I tried not to worry too much, but I was really scared for my best friend.

  Thirty-Four

  Madeline

  My phone rang as I was leaving work, and I sighed when I saw Casey’s number. Today was supposed to be a day I could go home and relax after work.

  I’d been working double shifts for two weeks lately. I went to my job during the day and then over to the bar after work to take care of things.

  Griffin hadn’t been around much, and when he was, he often drank with the customers. I had never seen him do that before, and now, it seemed like he couldn’t stop. Casey and Mitch and the other bartenders often had to kick him out and send him upstairs.

  Thankfully, they were all understanding of what Griffin was going through and were loyal employees. And I had managed to hire someone the week of Glen’s funeral. The new bartender had been training two weeks and was working tonight. Griffin had plans to be with Troy, which was why I was supposed to have the night off.

  I was going to take a long soak in the tub and go to bed early.

  “Hello?” I said, answering my phone.

  “I am so sorry, Madeline, but I think you need to come down here.”

  I didn’t even ask why because I assumed the answer wouldn’t be good.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  When I got to the bar, I found Griffin lying down in the circular booth—the same booth he had given me an orgasm in—with an ice pack over his eye.

  “What happened?” I asked Casey.

  “Nothing,” Griffin said, slurring his word.

  “I wasn’t asking you,” I said in a firm voice. I looked at Casey.

  “He got in a fight with a customer.”

  “Shit,” I said and rubbed my forehead. I was on the verge of a massive headache. “Where’s the customer?”

  “He left.”

  “Do you think he’ll press charges?”

  She shook her head. “Griffin was too drunk to even fight back. If anyone could press charges, it would be him.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that. He can press charges all he wants. Making them stick is another thing.”

  “I doubt it. We explained that his father died, so Griffin is not himself.”

  “I hope you’re right.” I looked at Griffin. “Can you help me get him upstairs?”

  “Yes,” Casey said.

  Griffin sat up. “I can get up on my own.” He pushed himself out of his seat and only wobbled a little bit. “I don’t need anyone to help me.”

  I gestured to the back of the bar. “Lead the way then.”

  Going up the stairs after a drunk person who refused help was a long and painful process. I wanted to smack some sense into him, but in his state, it would be pointless.

  Finally, after what felt like a year, we made it inside, and Griffin collapsed on his couch.

  I sat down on his coffee table. “Griffin, what is going on?”

  I thought maybe he’d talk to me with alcohol in his system because he sure wouldn’t talk to me while he was sober. Although those times were becoming rarer and rarer.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, pulling his ice pack away and looking at it.

  I ripped it from his hand and threw it down next to me.

  “Whoa,” he said. “You’re mad.” />
  “Hell yes, I’m mad. I’ve been busting my ass, trying to keep your bar running, all while working forty hours a week at my own job. Meanwhile, you’re drinking and getting into fights.”

  He held up a finger. “One. One fight.”

  “Oh,” I said sarcastically. “That makes it so much better.”

  “I think it does.”

  “I can’t keep doing this.”

  He frowned. “Doing what?”

  “I can’t keep running things for you. I don’t have the energy. I’m exhausted.”

  “No one said you had to.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Okay,” he said in a smart tone.

  “I’m telling you I can’t do this anymore, and you’re telling me no one asked me to.” I wanted to pull my hair out from frustration. “Griffin, I am your friend. Actually, at this point, I would like to think we’re more than friends. You don’t have to ask me. It’s what friends do. But friends don’t turn around and use their loved ones. You need to figure out what you want because I can’t do everything for you any longer.”

  As I said my speech, I realized something. Something I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized before.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  I looked at him in shock. “I love you, Griffin Davis. I love you more than just a best friend. I’m in love with you.” I shook my head in disbelief. That explained why I’d been busting my ass for him.

  He looked away from me. “I didn’t ask for this from you.”

  Ouch. No, I love you too. Not even a thank you.

  I picked up his hand. “You’re right. But I do love you, and it is killing me to see you throw away everything you worked so hard for.”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I don’t know how you feel, but I do know that your father would be sad if he could see you now.”

  Griffin’s head whipped back in my direction.

  “Your dad would not want you to slowly kill yourself, drinking, while running your business into the ground. I want to help you, but I need you to help me. I just can’t go one like I have. Not all by myself.” I sent him a small smile. “Please.”