Falling for My Best Friend (Fated #1) (5 page)

“You’re going to love the raspberry lemonade,” I told Fiona as she
sat down. “As soon as I tasted it, I knew I had to bring you here.”

“Well, I hope the food’s good, too, cause I’m starving,” she
said, looking around the crowded outdoor patio and staring down other people’s
plates.

“This many people can’t be wrong, right?”

“I suppose. It’s got four stars on Yelp anyway.”

I rolled my eyes. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she
checked. Her sense of adventure extended about as far as three and a half stars
on Yelp.

She slipped a skinny menu out from between the salt and pepper
and opened it. “How’d you find this place?”

“The guy I had lunch with last week took me here.”

She looked up at me. “The guy you hooked up with?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to run into him again?”

I laughed. “Quite the opposite. But even if I did, it wouldn’t
be weird. That ship has sailed, and we were totally on the same page.”

“Was he any good?” she asked, looking back down at her menu.

I shrugged. “I’d give him a three and a half on Yelp.”

She smiled. “I like it when you speak my language.”

“I recommend the pulled pork wrap. I’d have slept with the guy
just for introducing me to it.”

“Sold,” she said.

A young boy approached the table. He must’ve been at least
sixteen, but he didn’t look a day over twelve. “Are you ladies ready to order?”

“Yes,” I said. “We’ll have two pulled pork wraps and two
raspberry lemonades please.”

“And a basket of hand cut chips,” Fiona added.

The boy took a moment to practice his penmanship before looking
up from his notepad. “Coming right up.”

I turned to Fiona. “You just had to get the chips, didn’t you?”

“I think I have some kind of deficiency, like I need salt to
live.”

“We all need salt to live.”

“But I need it in excess.”

“Maybe you should get that checked out.”

“I did,” she said. “The doctor told me to eat more chips.”

I shook my head. “You must’ve dreamt that.”

“Speaking of dreams, did the guy who brought you here give you the
feeling?”

“No, but I never get the feeling.”

“No butterflies? No stomach dropping out from under you?”

I shook my head. “It was purely physical. Like painting by
numbers, ya know? Satisfyingly predictable but completely forgettable.”

She sighed. “Where have all the cowboys gone?”

“Maybe they all died in the nineties along with that song.”

“Maybe.” She pulled out her phone. “I guess I was just hoping
you’d have some good news for me. I’m kind of nervous about meeting this guy I
got matched up with.”

“Let’s see him,” I said, reaching for her phone. A beautiful
blue eyed boy toy stared back at me in head to toe green. He was holding a
glass shoe filled with green beer. “He’s adorable.”

“And totally my type, right?”

“Lookswise.”

“Plus, I love St. Patrick’s Day, too.”

“Let’s hope that’s not the only thing you have in common.”

“Anyway, he seems really sweet so far- not sleazy at all- and
it’s been a while since I… ya know?”

“Well if I got lucky and broke my dry spell, I don’t see why you
shouldn’t get lucky, too.” I handed the phone back to her. “Especially if this
guy has the luck of the Irish on his side.”

“Fingers crossed.”

“But you know better than to get your hopes up before a Tinder
date, Fi. You’re just setting yourself up to get hurt that way.”

“I know.” She looked at the guy one last time and slipped her
phone in her purse. “I guess I’m just getting kind of sick of this whole scene.”

“What scene?”

She shrugged. “The Tinder scene.”

“Oh?”

“Like it was a great novelty in the beginning, and it made it so
easy to meet new people, but now it feels so cheap.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like now that I’ve been
using it for a while, I’ve started to feel like people are more… disposable.
Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

“I mean, I actually swipe people who aren’t even in my phone, like
people on the sidewalk even.”

“I know. I’ve caught you doing it a few times. Your eyes give
you away.”

“It’s like no one in my world is safe from being swiped. It’s
ridiculous.”

“It’s not like we’re gonna be on it forever.”

“But how long is too long?” she asked. “It’s actually gotten to
the point where I’ll check the app while I’m on dates if the guy goes to the
bathroom or something.”

“They’re probably up to the same shit.”

The boy came back with our drinks and we thanked him.

“Right?” She scooted her lemonade towards her. “It’s starting to
feel really unhealthy, though, like I’ve forgotten how to enjoy the moment
cause I’m always looking for the next thing.”

“You and everybody else.”

“And what’s the point of even trying to enjoy the moment if I
know the person I’m with is thinking about whether or not the next girl he
meets will be easier or better company or prettier or-”

“I know,” I said. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“On the other hand, if I’ve had a shitty day, nothing boosts my
spirits like left swiping a bunch of people.”

I lifted my lemonade. “At least it’s a cheaper form of therapy
than online shopping.”

“Is it though?” she asked. “I mean, financially it is, but
there’s still a cost.”

I tilted my head. “What? You mean spiritually?”

She nodded.

I didn’t know what to say, but I could tell she was getting a little
worked up. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Blondie will be the perfect guy for you, and
you’ll never have to worry about swiping anyone again.”

“Thanks, Luce. I hope you’re right.”

“I’m going to go to the bathroom before our food arrives. If you
must take out your phone and do some swiping while I’m away, I promise I won’t
be offended or accuse you of not enjoying the moment.”

She sighed. “Make it quick. If I meet the guy of my dreams while
you’re in there, I won’t be out here when you get back.”

“Fair enough,” I said.

As I weaved through the inside tables towards the bathroom, I
couldn’t help but think about Fiona’s concerns. However, in our defense, it
wasn’t easy to meet eligible straight guys in our line of work. Plus, most of
our friends were artsy types and we both craved the company of classic meat and
potato guys. What choice did we have to meet people outside our social circle
but to do so online?

I decided when I went back outside I would tell her she
shouldn’t feel bad, that we were only doing what it took to survive and compete
and mate in this day and age, and that the only reason our souls were resisting
it was because we were the transitional generation. In ten years’ time, all of
the uncomfortable things we were up to with technology will have been
completely embraced by the subsequent generation and not awkward at all.

But when I stepped back on to the patio it was everything I
could do to keep my jaw from unhinging itself entirely.

I hung my head and hurried to my seat. As soon as I sat down, I
put my elbows on the table and my hands up like blinders to shield my face.

“Are you okay?” Fiona asked, furrowing her immaculately shaped
brows. “Did something happen in the bathroom?”

I shook my head.

“Seriously, you’ve gone even paler than you normally are, like
you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“No,” I said. “Not a ghost.”

“What then?”

“Brad’s here.”

“Who’s Brad?”

“The guy who brought me here in the first place.”

“Oh.” She started to turn her head-

“Don’t!” I said. “Don’t look yet.”

“Why? I thought you said it would be fine if you ran into him.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s not him. It’s who he’s with.”

“What?”

I lowered my head enough to take a sip of my lemonade. “The girl
he’s with- I know her.”

Fiona cocked her head. “And if she sees you, you’ll turn to
stone?”

“Something like that.”

“Lucy, you’re being ridiculous. Tell me what’s going on right
now.”

“Okay, but I need you to check that I’m not imagining things.”

“Okaay.”

“There’s a guy in a white and navy striped t-shirt over there.”

Fiona pretended to stretch her back and looked over her
shoulder. “I see him.”

“His hair is thick with mousse.”

“Yeah, it’s him alright. He’s not bad, Luce. I’m impressed.”

“Is he or is he not with a thin blond girl?”

“Yeah, but she’s not facing me. Oh wait, she’s getting up now-”
Fiona gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as she turned back towards me.

“I’m not crazy, am I?”

“Oh, you’re crazy,” she said. “But you’re not wrong.”

I pulled up outside Lucy’s place and changed the radio to her
favorite station. I preferred more modern stuff, but occasionally she turned me
on to something good like Bowie or The Kinks so I didn’t mind leaving my
comfort zone when she was around.

She came out of her place in a short black dress with long
sleeves and skipped over to the passenger side.

“Hey,” I said when she got in.

“Hey yourself.”

I checked my mirrors and pulled away from the curb. “What have
you been up to today?”

She batted her smoky eyes. “Nothing much. Went to lunch with Fiona.
That’s about it. You?”

“Went for a run this morning and-”

“You still thinking about doing that triathlon at the end of the
summer?”

I did my best to ignore the fact that her dress had ridden up
around her thighs. “I don’t know. The swimming is a lot harder than I thought.”

“No shit, Aiden. You’re solid muscle. You probably sink like a
rock.”

I smiled. “I am pretty jacked.”

She smacked my arm.

“Seriously, though, I’d still like to do it,” I said, turning
onto a one way street. “I just don’t know if I’ll be ready that soon.”

“Well, I’d rather you didn’t risk it if you think you’ll drown.”

“Yeah, people might think I did it on purpose.”

She furrowed her brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I just get the feeling people can’t handle the fact that
I’m not completely depressed and full of self-pity.”

“Fuck ‘em,” she said. “That’s a reflection of them, not you.”

I shrugged.

“I mean it. You should be really proud of the way you’ve handled
everything.”

“Thanks, Luce. Sometimes it feels like you’re the only one that
agrees with my decision to stop playing.”

“It’s not like you had a choice.” She leaned on the console
between us. “You could’ve lost a lot more than a few good years of rugby if you
hadn’t walked away.”

I nodded. “At least I haven’t let you down.”

“Not at all. And I’m sorry everyone else hasn’t come around. Don’t
they realize you could’ve gotten knocked stupid?”

“I think they all feel like a few years of glory would’ve made
up for that,” I said, checking the closest street sign.

She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. You did the right
thing.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“To be honest-” I put my arm behind Lucy’s seat and turned
around to parallel park. “I think I can actually make a bigger difference to
the team using my degree, not as much of a public difference, but a bigger
one.”

“I’m sure you can,” she said, opening her door.

“In fact, the college said they’ll keep me on as the team’s main
physio even after I open my own place.”

Her face lit up. “Wow, that’s great news. You must be psyched.”

“I am.”

“Have you thought about where you want your place to be?” she
asked.

I put a few quarters in the meter. “I’ve narrowed it down to a
few spots.”

“How soon do you think you’ll pull the trigger?”

I walked up beside her. “Maybe the end of the summer.”

“Well, I know you don’t need help deciding or anything, but I’d love
to see your options before you pick.”

“Really? Are you sure you wouldn’t find that dull?” I asked.
“It’s just office space.”

“Not at all,” she said. “Plus, I might learn something in the
process that could help me someday when I’m ready to open my own salon.”

“In that case, I’d love to get your opinion.”

“So tell me about this place we’re going? What can it offer me
that all the other ice cream places can’t?”

“From what I understand, their whole schtick is that they have
more than all the other guys.”

“More what?”

“More flavors, more toppings, more types of cones- anything you
can think of- only more.”

“Wow.”

“You seem skeptical,” I said, pointing to the left so she would
know to turn the corner.

She shrugged. “That’s just because my favorite place is still
the one that only has chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry and claims to have the
best of those three.”

“Are you serious?” I asked. “Of the dozens of ice cream places
we’ve been to over the years, that’s your favorite so far?”

“Yeah, I like that they keep it simple. And they get extra
points for their interior.”

“Polka dots, was it?”

“Yep. In fact, their vanilla is still the standard vanilla by which
I judge all others.”

“No kidding?”

She cocked her head at me. “Would I kid about ice cream?” 

“I suppose not.”

“Why? What’s your standard vanilla benchmark?”

“Homer’s.”

“Oh, that’s right. You like really milky ice cream.”

“What can I say? I prefer the consistency of a creamy blend to an
icy one.”

She laughed. “Is that it up there?”

“Yeah, the one with the green awning.”

She clapped her hands in front of her. “Oooh I’m excited!”

“You should be. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but rumor
has it that they have a cake batter flavor.”

“Shut up.”

“And who better to judge that than you?”

Her eyes grew wide at the thought. “No one, obviously.”

I pushed the door open and held it for her.

“Fancy,” she said, admiring the murals on the walls which
featured mountains topped with ice cream caps.

“I’m glad you like them. We might me staring at them for a
while.”

“It’s not the worst line we’ve stood in,” she said. “Besides, what
did you expect on a balmy summer evening?”  

“Hopefully it’s worth the wait.”

“So what is Chelsea doing that she didn’t want to come?”

“Besides the fact that she thinks ice cream is evil?”

“Is it cause she hates me?”

“No. Not that you would care if she did.”

Some blood rushed to Lucy’s pale cheeks as she looked down at
the white tiled floor.

“She was volunteering all day.”

She looked up. “Volunteering?”

“Yeah, at the nursing home where her Grandma lives.”

Lucy swallowed.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t realize she was the volunteering type.”

“Me neither,” I said, “but she’s been doing it a lot lately.”

“Oh?”

“I think it takes her mind off things. She’s been pretty
stressed out.”

“About what?”

“She hasn’t gotten the last few jobs she’s gone for, and it’s
starting to get to her.”

“Did you try telling her that every no gets her closer to a yes?”

I laughed. “I don’t think she would appreciate that. She’s not
positive like you.”

“I’m not a naturally positive person either,” she said. “It’s just
an act I put on to fool everyone, myself included.”

“You’re in the wrong business then cause your acting skills are
brilliant.”

She smiled.

“Her agent told her the problem is that she’s too skinny.”

“For real?”

“Yeah.”

“Then she definitely should have come.”

“She thinks he’s full of shit.”

“I can’t believe she’s stressed out about that. I think most women
fantasize about being told that.”

“I don’t know why. It’s actually horrible.”

“Why?”

“Well for one thing, she’s cranky all the time cause she never
eats anything that actually nourishes her body-”

“Are you sure that’s not just her personality?”

“Ha. Ha,” I said. “Seriously, though, I’m worried about her. Her
reaction to being told she was too skinny wasn’t normal.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she didn’t start eating more. If anything, she’s done
the opposite.”

“Yikes. That is scary.” Lucy put her small hand on my arm.
“Maybe she should get some help?”

“I know. I need to talk to her about it cause no job is worth
what she’s putting herself through.”

“I’m sorry, Aiden.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “She’ll be fine. Plus, you have bigger
things to worry about.”

Her face puckered. “Excuse me?”

“Well you do.”

“Like what?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Like whether or not you want your waffle cone dipped in
sprinkles.”