by Nikki Steele
Miss Kitty
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Ryan007: We need to talk. NOW. I’m cashing in my golden ticket.
BOOK 3:
BLIND TRUST
After a bad breakup, Tiff’s best friend Ryan sets her up on a date with a handsome Billionaire. He seems too good to be true—sexy, charming and rich. But Edward has a darker side. Tiff’s first experience with him leaves her heart racing, but when she refuses to sign a BDSM contract, things turn nasty.
Ryan, her best friend, comes to her rescue. Ryan, who has always been there for her, a steadfast pillar she could always count on. He’s rich and handsome too. Not that it could ever matter—best friends don’t think about each other like that.
Not until he kisses her, anyway. And then, suddenly, things get more complicated. Tiff knows Ryan. And she knows relationships with him don’t last.
To stop the relationship from starting, she falls back into Edward’s arms. He swears he’s changed… and that might just be the thing she needs to make her forget all about Ryan.
But Ryan’s found out. And now he wants to meet with Tiff urgently…
PROLOGUE
“You alright Miss? You look nervous.”
“Yes thanks Marty. Just catching up with a friend—why would I be nervous?”
Marty the cab driver looked at me in the rear vision mirror, fat jowls and slicked back hair framing a concerned expression. “I just sez it as I sees it.”
God—when your cab driver knew you so well he could read your expression, it was time to get your car fixed.
I was nervous. My best friend wanted to meet up with me. Normally, that was a good thing. I could never be in a bad mood around Ryan. He made me laugh, he got my jokes, he knew all my quirks and he kept all my secrets. It had been like that since we were little.
People always thought we were an item, but friendship was as good as it got for people like me—night time saw a string of women through Ryan’s bed, all more beautiful and sensual than I could ever be.
At least until recently, anyway. It had started when Ryan set me up on a date with a billionaire named Edward. The guy was a dick, but the kind of dick you just kept coming back to—ridiculously wealthy and charming when he wanted to be.
He’d thrown me out into the rain when I refused to sign a sexual contract that was too horrifying to contemplate. Ryan had picked me up, dried me off and driven me home.
Then… there’d been a kiss. And alcohol. And suddenly friendship wasn’t as good as it got for people like me, and I was seeing Ryan in a whole new light—one where I couldn’t ignore his gorgeous blue eyes or impressive physique.
I leaned out the window of the taxi, letting the wind clear my thoughts. That was the problem. Ryan had been my best friend for half my life. I knew him, just as much as he knew me. And I’d never seen a relationship of his last. If he’d called me to his house, it could only be for one thing: to tell me that it had all been a big, horrible mistake.
CHAPTER ONE
Lovers vs. Friends
Posted by Miss Kitty [08:59]
So I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between a friend and a lover recently. Seems pretty simple, right? And I guess it is, really. The difficulty only comes when you try to decide which one is better.
I mean, there’s so much in the media these days about ‘getting the guy’ that you’d think the option that involves sex is going to win every time. But I think different. I think a best friend wins.
A best friend is always there for you. I mean, when a hot guy asks for your number, it’s your best friend you high five. It’s your best friend who does your hair before a date, and it’s your best friend who brings you chocolate when it doesn’t work out.
It’s not the same if the situations are reversed. I’ve never had a date tell me he thinks “that person over there would make a great best friend.” I’ve never had a hot guy at a bar even notice my hair, for that matter, either. There’s only one thing a lover has over a best friend, and that’s sex.
I don’t know—maybe that’s enough, if you’re going to be together for the rest of your life. But swapping your best friend for three dates, maybe a month tops? I just don’t think it would work. Of course, there is that fantastical middle ground where your best friend could turn into your lover… but let’s be serious for a moment. Do any of us actually think that is ever going to happen?
Miss Kitty.
[There are 2 new comments]
User69: Marry me, instead. We’ve been best friends ever since you started this blog. I’m also an excellent lover ;)
Miss Kitty: User69. Typing ‘Marry me’ over and over again does not make you a best friend. It just makes you weird.
“Hey Tiff, good to see you!” Ryan bounded down his driveway as the taxi drove off.
He was wearing a suit. Why did he have to be wearing a suit? I said the first thing to pop into my nervous brain. “Um, how come you’re home early—weren’t you supposed to be back tomorrow?”
“Why did you get a taxi here? And why no kiss hello?” Ryan countered.
I stared at him then burst out laughing, appropriately chastised for my abrupt greeting. Ryan always had a way of making me relax. “Sorry, good to see you too,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “As for the taxi, my car seems to have died. I’ll get it looked at as soon as I can afford it.”
Ryan pulled a wallet from his suit jacket. “How much do you want?”
I rolled my eyes. “You should know by now I won’t take your money.”
He kept the wallet out. “This stuff with Google is going to be big Tiff.” He indicated the suit jacket with his free hand. “I cut my meetings short by the way, and have only just walked in the door, to answer your question. But trust me when I say I can afford to fix your car.”
I shook my head.
He sighed, tucking the wallet back in his jacket. “You always were the stubborn one. At least let me look at it? You know I’m good with stuff like this.”
I hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. I guess if you’re ever on my side of town you can look at it. It’s parked outside.”
I couldn’t help it—the nerves came back as we walked up his steps. We were going to have a Talk. I just knew it.
I paused in the hallway to gather my courage. What was I going to say? I wasn’t a fool; the chain of events that had led me here dictated what our conversation would be about. I’d slept with Edward again, then like an idiot had posted it on my blog. Ryan had sent me a message not two minutes later saying we had to meet.
Maybe I should just tell him the truth? That I’d slept with Edward to try and get over Ryan, like guys did when they were getting over girls? Yeah, that would go down well. Besides, he might ask me if it had worked. And I wasn’t quite sure of the answer to that one yet.
Ryan reappeared from the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee. “Here, make yourself at home. I’m just going to get changed, then…. well, I guess we need to chat.”
I took the cup as he walked into his bedroom. “You said you had an idea about the golden ticket?” I called after him, playing dumb. ‘The golden ticket’ was an IOU I had given Ryan for his birthday, one that promised him three hours where I would do anything he wanted—clean his house, see one of his lame Sci-Fi movies, whatever. Only now, I was afraid he wanted to use it to do the one thing I really didn’t want to do right now—talk about us. I’d avoided the conversation ever since that drunken hookup, but he’d finally found a way to guarantee my attention. A way to totally, unequivocally make sure I knew it had all been one big, horrible mistake.
“One minute!” Ryan called.
I drew in the aroma of the coffee and fantasized, just for a moment, about what it might be like to date Ryan. He was my best friend. Would it be awkward at first? How would we make the switch? Would our first kiss be staged, or forced?
Our first kiss had already happened, I corrected myself. And it had been neither. It had been spontaneous, and to be
honest, pretty mind blowing. The kind of kiss that you always saw in the movies—both of us standing in the rain, umbrella held but forgotten as we got swept up in the moment.
What about the sex then? That had already happened too, actually. Or at least, I thought it had. I couldn’t quite remember all the details of that drunken night, but the flashbacks had been damn hot. It occurred to me that we’d already made the transition from friends to lovers. All the awkwardness was already behind us. Perhaps…
I cut myself off sharply. No good could come from this line of thinking. Ryan had called me over to tell me this was all one big, horrible mistake. But even if he hadn’t—even if all the stars in the universe aligned to focus their twinkles and blind him, and he somehow decided he wanted to be together, that would be worse. Ryan telling me it had been a mistake, I could deal with. Ryan getting my hopes up and then trashing them three dates later, I couldn’t. Once we made that transition from friends to… well, something more, we wouldn’t ever be able to go back. When he broke it off, our friendship wouldn’t survive. I wouldn’t survive.
God this wait was killing me. “Why am I here Ryan?” I called.
An indistinct sound, then Ryan emerged in ripped jeans and unbuttoned shirt. “What’d you say?”
His bare chest drove all thought temporarily from my mind. Smooth skin hiding rippling muscles. A wash of abdominals. That V of obliques that I loved so much on guys, running from hips to denim. I remembered running my hand over that stomach. I remembered those jeans falling to the floor.
It made me, suddenly, furious—just get it over already. “Why am I here?” I asked harshly.
He paused, smile fading. “No more pretending, hey?”
I nodded. “Let’s get this over with. I just hope it doesn’t take three hours.”
He looked at me quizzically.
“The Golden Ticket?” I said, explaining. “You said you wanted to use it. I assume so we could talk.”
He shook his head. “I called you here so I could use the golden ticket, yes. But not for today. For tonight.”
Now it was my turn to look at him.
“Tiffany…” he took a deep breath. “Obviously I read your post, and I know about Edward. I won’t lie, it upset me. Edward’s not right for you. He doesn’t treat you the way you deserve.”
I frowned at him. Ryan held up a hand. “Yes he wines and dines you, but you forget I’ve also seen you cry. I know you think he’ll change, but I’m telling you, I’ve seen this type before. He’s good at the use and abuse, but not at the keep and cuddle.”
He took a deep breath. “You deserve more than that. You deserve someone who loves you unconditionally. Who’s done so their whole life. Someone who has been too big a fool to admit it until now.”
I looked down. This was not what I’d thought to hear at all. “What are you saying?”
“Tiff—my Golden Ticket. I want to take you on a date.”
My laugh was panicked. “We go on dates all the time. Coffee dates. Lunch dates. Movies every second week.”
He shook his head. “No. A proper date.”
My heart leapt like a dove suddenly freed; my heartbeats, giddy wingflaps as the dove soared toward the sky.
I wrenched it back viciously.
I’d seen what happened to Ryan’s women. If that bird flew, it would only be to get shot down—I wasn’t going to become another tick and flick. “Ryan. I know I said anything. But not that.”
He took me by the shoulders, searching my eyes for an answer to the question he hadn’t yet asked. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiff. I can’t just be friends. I can’t pretend that I don’t want… more.”
I wiggled out from his hands. “Yes you can, Ryan. Yes we can. Don’t you see? We wouldn’t work as a couple.”
“We did the other night.”
I stepped back, alarmed. “What do you remember?”
“The memory is sketchy, but it’s one I’d like to explore again.”
I stepped back another pace, shaking my head violently. “I can’t. We can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked. “I think-”
“What makes you think I’m even interested?” My answer was harsher than I’d meant it to be.
He paused. “You’re not?”
I avoided the question. “You kissed me, remember? And what happened after, well—how many girls have you taken home after a big night out?
His face paled. “Is that what you think? That you’re like one of those girls I used to pick up?”
“No Ryan. What I think is that I don’t want to be one of those girls. Ever.” Those girls never stayed. Those girls never even had names.
“But the other night-”
“A mistake.”
I knew as soon as I said it that I’d hurt him—his chest pulled in as if punched.
“Tiff. How could you say that? You’re my best friend.”
“Exactly. Not a one night stand.”
His shoulders straightened. “I want to use my Golden Ticket. Change your mind.”
“I’ve already changed my mind.” Ryan didn’t keep his lovers, only his friends. “The change is this—the golden ticket is now null and void.”
“You can’t!”
“I can. You don’t own me.”
“It seems like anyone with a pulse can own you!”
I slapped him. “That was uncalled for.”
His eyes were furious. “No, it wasn’t. This Edward guy fucks you, threatens to beat you senseless, kicks you out in the rain and then the next thing I know, you’ve shagged him in a cinema? Meanwhile I only ever treat you right—I promise you friendship, and respect, and laughter and love, and what do I get for my efforts? I get slapped in the face and told you’d rather a guy who’s this far,” Ryan held up his thumb and forefinger, “from being a serial rapist.”
“How dare you,” I whispered. Then louder, “How dare you!” I hurled my empty coffee cup at him. It shattered on the wall behind. “How dare you judge me? How dare you tell me what I can and can’t do? How dare you summon me here, snap your fingers and just expect everything to change!”
My hands trembled. “You said you couldn’t live as friends anymore?” I turned and stalked toward the door.
“Congratulations. Mission accomplished.”
CHAPTER TWO
Arrgh! What to do?
Posted by Miss Kitty [11:59]
So there’s this guy, right. My best friend; the only person in the entire world that knows what my real identity is. Normally, he’d be reading this blog, but I’ve locked this one to members only and rejected his privileges.
You see, we had this fight. A pretty stupid one, when you think about it. A little while ago, well, we hooked up. And so this morning, he asked me out on a date. At first I thought he just wanted to meet to tell me ‘he didn’t feel that way about me.’ You know that talk, right? That horrible, dehumanising conversation stupid boys think they have to have when they want to make it absolutely clear you mean nothing to them?
Then, when that didn’t happen, I thought he must just be feeling sorry for me. A pity date, if you will. Buuut it turned out that wasn’t the case either. The guy was serious. He actually, seriously, wanted to go out on a date with me.
Don’t get me wrong. On the surface, this is an amazing development. The guy’s got sex appeal, and abs, and a whole host of things that I’ve only just started to realise. I think I like him. I really do. But I also know him. I know he’s not the type to settle down. I know he means well, but doesn’t realize the effect something like this will have on me. I know that we’ll go out once, maybe twice and then he’ll get bored and I’ll be heartbroken and we’ll never speak again.
Best friends can be so infuriating. You can’t live with them, but I couldn’t live without him, either.
What do I? Do I risk it all? I just can’t, can I?
[There are 7 new comments]
Kansas: Do it girlfriend.
Catlover: Life is all about c
hances. Take it.
Anonymous: Enlarge your penis the easy way… [flagged as spam]
PetaC: Take the risk. Who knows?
MorningStar: You never ever know if you never ever try
User69: If he touches you, I’ll kill him.
Miss Kitty: Ok User69, enough. You’re seriously creeping me out.
What the hell had I done? Ryan promises me everything I’ve been dreaming about, and I turn it down? To be sure, he’d been an ass at the end, but only after I’d pushed him. I stared at the phone ringing before me. It was the fifth time he’d called this hour. I let it go to message bank, just like all the others this morning. I wasn’t ready to talk yet, no matter what everyone on my blog said.
Ryan had turned the tables. He wanted to go out on a real date. By extension, that meant he wanted us to be a real couple. But it couldn’t be that simple, could it? I needed proof that he wouldn’t just up and leave me—like he did for all the others. Unfortunately, that proof would only come if he did up and leave me. It was a horrible, tangled knot that I found myself suddenly in.
The phone started to ring again—my hand moved automatically to turn it off, but at the last moment I stopped. It wasn’t Ryan. I’d hit answer before my mind could tell me not to.
“Hello Tiffany.”
“Edward.” What did he want? Did he somehow know about my fight with Ryan?
“What are you doing this afternoon?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’ll send a car over.”
“Edward, things are… complicated right now.”
“They weren’t complicated at the cinema. Or in the stables.”