Loving My Best Friend

by Reid, Roxy

  “How generous,” I say dryly.

  “I think so,” he says judiciously.

  “Except, now I’m going to spend the whole trip obsessing over you and your weirdness and what secret you could possibly be sitting on,” I complain.

  “Good. I like you thinking of me,” Jack teases. Then the flight attendant hands us our drinks, and he goes back to staring out the window, completely ignoring me.

  He has no idea how much time I already spend thinking of him.

  * * *

  “What do you mean you don’t have a room for us?” Jack asks, irritated. We’re at the front desk of Jack’s hotel in Nafplio. Nafplio is a seaport town, and, according to Google, one of the most romantic cities in southern Greece. The quaintness of the town is reflected in the size of this hotel, which, while truly luxurious, is unusually small for a Rose Hotel.

  Also, unusually packed.

  “There’s an academic conference,” the poor receptionist explains, looking harried.

  “Yes, but I’ve had this reservation for a year,” Jack says, exasperated. “Also, and I realize this is a minor point, which I wouldn’t normally bring up, but I own this hotel.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s just. We were out of rooms. And you always cancel, anyway.”

  “So you canceled my rooms for me?”

  The receptionist takes a step back under the force of Jack’s personality. “I could call someone.”

  “Do that,” Jack says.

  “We can kick them out of your room. They’re just academics,” the receptionist says.

  “What? No,” I say. “Do not do that. One moment, please. I’d like to talk to my fiancé.” I grab Jack’s elbow and tow him to the side. “I know you’re tired and grumpy, but if it gets out you kicked out a patron so you could be in their room, I swear it will be a PR disaster of epic proportions.”

  “Technically, they’re in my room,” Jack grumbles.

  “Jack,” I hiss.

  He sighs. “Fine.”

  “Also, you better give that concierge a huge tip because you’re being a dick.”

  He groans in that way he does when he knows I’m right. He takes a calming breath, shakes out his shoulders, and returns to the concierge, his charming, billionaire smile firmly in place.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude when I should be thanking you for doing such an excellent job keeping the hotel full of customers.”

  The concierge looks at him warily.

  “However, I do need someplace to sleep tonight before my meeting tomorrow with your boss. Is there any way you could get me a room somewhere else in town?”

  She nods eagerly. “My aunt has a B&B. The rooms aren’t quite as modern as ours, but the courtyard is beautiful, and you can see the water!”

  “If it has a bed, I’m fine.” Jack says. Then he realizes what he just said, and his eyes meet mine.

  Shit. We’ve been sleeping in separate beds. The suite he’d reserved here already had two beds, so it hadn’t been a big deal for me to join the trip.

  If he asks for two beds now, we’re basically telling a random hotel employee and her aunt that the public face of Rose Hotels is having relationship problems. It wouldn’t matter if we had a real relationship, but since we’re trying to fool everyone …

  I give a tiny shake of my head, and Jack nods, understanding.

  The receptionist calls her aunt, switching to Greek. I don’t catch anything, except the words “McBride” and “Amerikanós.”

  The concierge hangs up and beams at us. “She has a room for you. It’s a fifteen-minute walk from this hotel.” She reaches for a map of the city and draws the route we should take with a Sharpie.

  “We have to walk?” Jack complains.

  She looks up from the map apologetically. “It takes a long time to get a taxi right now. There are a lot of academics.”

  Jack sighs heavily while I snatch the map from the concierge. “Thank you so much. This has been incredibly helpful.”

  I elbow Jack. He reluctantly seconds my thanks and gives the woman a generous tip.

  I grab Jack and tow him out of his hotel before he can turn a routine, low-stress business trip into a PR crisis.

  * * *

  Twenty-five minutes later, we’re checked into a cramped but charming B&B room with fresh and fluffy white bedding and old, solid furniture.

  Jack sets his suitcase down and looks around the room, skeptical.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask. “That secret of yours not enough to make you happy anymore?”

  “I was kind of counting on that hotel room.”

  “Oh, get over yourself. This place is fine. Also, if we play our cards right, your concierge’s aunt says we can have fresh oranges from the tree in the courtyard with our breakfast.”

  The window has heavy wooden shutters. I wrestle them open and then gasp at the view. We could see out over quaint roofs leading down to the bay. Old Greek men linger outside of a store, smoking and talking. In the distance, beyond the rooftops, the sea glistens, a blue so beautiful it looks like it can’t possibly be real.

  “This is too small for me,” Jack complains behind me.

  “Oh, get over yourself,” I say again. “The room is beautiful.”

  “No, I mean, this is literally too small from me.”

  I turn around to see him sitting in a chair that is so short, his knees are up by his chin. He looks so disgruntled that I can’t help it. I burst out laughing.

  The last few weeks have been so weird between us. It’s a relief just to laugh.

  Jack must think so, too, because he grins. “Oh, you like this? Because it’s just exhibit A.” He walks into the bathroom. I follow him to the bathroom doorway, curious.

  Jack climbs into the tub. Then he points dramatically at the shower head, which doesn’t even come up to his shoulders. I snigger.

  “You haven’t even seen the grand finale yet.” Jack brushes past me and flops down onto the bed dramatically.

  At first, I don’t get it. Then Jack straightens his legs. His feet stick out a good foot over the end of the bed.

  I just lose it. I collapse against the doorway. I’m laughing so hard that I have to grip the wall for support. I know, with sudden, blinding clarity, that this is why I gave up sex with him. As fun as the sex is, it doesn’t hold a candle to just being with Jack. Going through life with him. Laughing our asses off when it goes wrong.

  For the first time since I stood in his office and broke things off with Jack, I am one hundred percent sure I made the right decision.

  Jack rolls to his side and grins up at me. “God, I love you.”

  My blood freezes. “What?”

  His smile fades, but he looks at me, unflinching. “I love you, Eva.”

  “Like a friend,” I say, a little desperately. “You love me like a friend.”

  He stands up. “No, I love you like someone who’s been in love with you since he knew what love is.”

  I look at Jack. Standing in front of me. No ifs, no flirting, no pretend relationship. Just Jack, looking me in the eyes and telling me he’s been in love with me his whole life.

  So, I do what any mature, adult woman would do.

  I turn and flee.

  19

  Jack

  Tag! You’re it. And don’t argue. If you read this paper, you’re it. Now come out and play!!!

  —Jack McBride, note slid under Eva Price’s bedroom door, age nine

  That did not go how I expected. For a second, I stare at the door to the hallway as it swings shut behind Eva, and then I race after her.

  “Eva Price!” I thunder as I race down the stairs after her. “Get your ass back here!”

  I catch up with her in the courtyard, a quaint space with old stone walls that’s dominated by three giant orange trees. She looks over her shoulder at me and makes a break for the gateway leading out onto the street. I catch her easily.

  “Jack, let me go,” she says.

  “If you’re g
oing to behave like we’re five, I’m treating you like we’re five.” I drag her behind one of the orange trees, out of sight of the rest of the rooms where we can have something resembling privacy. “Are you going to run if I let you go?”

  “No.”

  I let her go. She tries to run.

  I snag Eva before she gets out from under the orange tree. This time, I back her into the part of the wall, hidden from the rest of the courtyard by the tree, and pin her wrists to the old stone.

  “Why are you running from me? You can say you don’t love me back. You can say you need time.” My hold on her wrists loosens, turning into a caress. “You can say anything to me.”

  She closes her eyes.

  “Come on, Evvie,” I coax. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  The scent of orange trees and old stone is all around us. Slowly, Eva relaxes, and I let her arms fall. Eva reaches a hand to rub at the spot above her heart and looks away.

  “It’s just … I feel so much. All at once. And I don’t know what to do.”

  “Okay.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her curls are all mussed in the heat, making her look delicately frazzled. “Just start with one of the things you feel, and then we’ll go from there.”

  Her eyes flash to mine. “Fear.”

  I go cold. “Of me?” I take a step back, feeling sick. I know I shouldn’t have grabbed her.

  “No!” She grabs my shirt and pulls me back so that I’m standing over her again. She drops her forehead to my chest. “I’m scared of what will happen when this ends. Because I already care about you so much when I’m trying not to. If I let myself love you, for real, no holds barred, and then this ends …” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “You’re the one I go to when my life falls apart. What if I let myself love you, and it doesn’t work out between us? Then I’ll have no one. It will be the worst break-up of my entire life, and I’ll be all alone.”

  I pull Eva into my arms, and for a while, I just hold her, rubbing her back soothingly. I half-expect her to resist, but instead, she tucks herself into me like … like …

  Like I’m the place she goes when she needs to feel safe.

  Oh. Oh.

  I don’t want to make Eva feel like her world is falling apart. I also know that, sometimes, you have to knock down a wall to build something new.

  “The worst break up of your life, huh?” I ask.

  “Oh, don’t be smug about it,” she says, and I smile as I press my cheek against the top of her head.

  “Would it help if I say I’ve been interested in you since we were teens? I was going to tell you how I felt, but then you moved.”

  She shakes her head against my chest. “That was just proximity. I was a girl, and you were horny.”

  “Rude,” I say, and she looks up at me with wet eyes.

  Oh, fuck. I can’t make her cry.

  “But also true,” I say, which startles a laugh out of her.

  I switch our positions so that I’m the one leaning against the wall. I’m still holding her, but she can walk away any time she wants. I don’t ever want her to feel trapped, especially not by me. I loosen my arms, so they’re looped lightly around her, resting casually against the base of her back.

  No pressure here, Eva. You can feel whatever you need to feel. I can take it.

  “You wouldn’t be alone if this ended,” I say. “You have your family. You have Tracy.”

  She looks up at me like I’m an idiot who is missing the point. “They’re not you.”

  I drop my forehead against hers. “I think,” I say softly, “that the point of a romantic relationship is to be with that person who feels completely irreplaceable, but I’m new to this whole romantic-relationship thing.”

  She presses her palm to my chest. “I want to believe you, Jack. I want you to believe that this could last forever.”

  I kiss her. I kiss her in the shade of an old orange tree that’s probably seen countless couples like us over the years. Love is such an ordinary, normal thing. So why does it feel so life and death when it’s happening to you?

  I break the kiss, and Eva’s eyes flutter open.

  “It can last forever,” I say. “At least, on my end.”

  “You’re just saying that because you want it to be true,” she jokes, but looking down into her brown eyes, I can tell she believes that.

  Just like that, I know exactly what I have to say to convince her. Unfortunately.

  “Well, fuck,” I say, dropping my head back against the wall and looking up at the sky.

  “What?” Eva asks.

  “I think I can convince you that I really will love you forever. It’s just not a story that’s going to make me look good,” I say.

  Eva reaches up and touches my cheek. She looks at me, her eyes searching. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve known I could love you forever ever since I kissed you at that costume party in college.”

  For a moment, neither of us breathe. And then …

  “What?” she says, shoving herself out of my arms. “You knew it was me?”

  “Of course.”

  “But I was in a costume!”

  “Yeah. It was a great costume,” I say, thinking fond thoughts about the way the cheap fabric had squeezed her breasts together. Also, there was that great slit in the skirt where I’d—

  “Jack. Focus,” she orders, and I do.

  I focus on Eva, who is crossing her arms and glaring up at me. “I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

  “I know. That’s why I figured it was okay to kiss you. I could satisfy my curiosity without ruining the friendship. But …”

  “But it was an amazing kiss,” Eva says.

  I nod.

  “So why didn’t you say something? The next morning, when we met up for breakfast, I almost told you, but you changed the topic. All this time we could have … what the fucking hell, Jack?”

  I smile wryly. “I told you this story wasn’t going to make me look good. I didn’t tell you, because, after that kiss, I knew I could love you forever. I wasn’t ready for forever, but I couldn’t lose you, either.”

  “So you completely friend-zoned me and changed the topic any time I tried to bring it up or make a move,” Eva says.

  “Pretty much,” I admit.

  “Jack. That’s so selfish.”

  “I know.” I step off from the wall and catch her hands. “I know it was selfish. But I knew, even as a selfish, scarred kid, that if we ever started something, I’d love you forever.” I take a deep breath. “The thing is, I’m ready for forever now. I love you, Eva. I love you so much.”

  I kiss her fingertips. “So, if your only objection is that you’re worried what will happen when it ends, maybe give me a chance. The only way this is ending is if you want it to.”

  She stares up at me. The sunlight dapples her skin through the leaves of the tree above us.

  This is it.

  Eva Price is deciding the course of the rest of our lives. I can’t breathe.

  She grabs me and kisses me. It’s hot and passionate, and I back her into the tree.

  “That was really, really selfish, Jack,” she gasps.

  “I know,” I say, sliding my hand up to cup her breast. Mine.

  “And risky. What if I’d fallen for someone else?”

  “I know.” I punish her for even suggesting it with a kiss so hard and fierce it leaves her grasping at the tree for support, her eyes dark and dazed.

  “You’re in love with me,” Eva says in wonder. “You’re really, truly in love with me.”

  “Now, she gets it.” My smile fades as I cradle her face. “So, here’s the real question. Are you willing to give me a chance?”

  Eva falls silent. My heart is thumping so loudly I’d swear she can hear it.

  “I don’t need to give you a chance,” Eva says, and my heart sinks.

  Fuck. I thought for sure. Fuck.

  Eva catches my chin and forces me to look at her. “I don’t need t
o give you a chance because I already know how I feel. I love you, Jack. I’m in love with you, too.”

  For a glorious, sun-drenched second, I’m scared to believe what I just heard. Then I’m kissing her, and she’s kissing me, and I can’t think about anything except, I need her now.

  “How do you feel about being manhandled?” I ask.

  “What?” she blinks up at me, aroused and confused.

  “Too slow. Manhandling it is.” I scoop Eva up and, over her laughing protests, carry her back into the B&B and up the three flights of stairs to our bedroom.

  20

  Eva

  I can’t believe I kissed him. After all these years, I can’t believe I kissed him. I’ve never had a kiss like that.

  —Eva Price, journal, after a certain costume party in college

  I gasp as Jack tosses me on the bed, strips, and pulls my dress over my head. I want to make a joke about him being overeager, but then he might slow down, and this feels …

  This feels like a wedding night. Like something I’ve been waiting for my whole life. He leans down to kiss me, and I pull him down over me. I run my hands over the muscles of his back while he fumbles with the clasp on my bra.

  Normally, that would be weird. Jack doesn’t fumble. He is freakishly adept at removing women’s undergarments. But we just said, I love you, and we’re both high on adrenaline.

  I can’t believe it. Jack loves me.

  Jack loves me. I and I love him.

  I don’t have to fight it.

  I laugh with the joy of it all, and he rolls us so that I’m on top. My hair falls around us in a curtain. He drinks me in with his eyes like he’s savoring the moment.

  I run my thumb over his lip. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How I’m so bad at keeping secrets from you. I said I’d tell you sometime over the next few days, and I didn’t even last until the end of this one.”

  Butterflies bloom in my stomach. “That was your secret? That you love me?”