Page 15 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

It was even better when I had my hand on his unbelievably big dick. He was groaning with pleasure, his muscles bulging, a vein in his neck standing out like his passion was going to make him explode. At the end, he hugged me against him. It felt like we belonged together, but then I saw how he looked at me—the pain in his eyes, the resentment.

He said nothing as I left the swimming pool. What did I want him to say, exactly? We should go on a date sometime? Grab a drink? A bite to eat? What did I expect? What can I expect?

As crazy as it is, I wish Kayla was here so I could talk about it with her. For obvious reasons, that would be impossible. Yet she’s the person I usually talk to about my personal life. She’s always been my lifeline. Who else, then?

Swallowing a ball of nerves, I pick up my cell phone and call Mom. She’s always been there for me, too, but I’ll have to dance around the truth. It’s not like I can tell her it was Lukas.

“Maci?” Mom answers. “Is everything okay? It’s late.”

“Yeah…” No. “I was just wondering if you had time to talk.”

“Always. What a silly question.”

I smile, lying back in bed. The curtains are open, giving me a view of the sky; the stars are much brighter here than in the city.

“Something happened,” I say. “Something… uh, romantic. I don’t want you to freak and make it a big deal, okay? I just want to talk about it.”

After a pause—she’s probably pushing down a comment about the freak-big-deal thing—she says, “Okay, that’s fine. Let’s talk about it.”

“Basically, I, uh…” I’m not very good at lying to Mom, but it’s necessary. “I went to a party and met someone. The thing is, he’s… he’s an ex-boyfriend of Kayla’s.” This is the closest I can get to the truth without outright stating it.

“Did you sleep together?” Mom asks calmly.

“No, but we did… you know, other stuff.”

Mom’s tone stays calm, which I’m grateful for. “And how do you feel about him, apart from that stuff?”

I think about that momentarily, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger. “Honestly? I really like him, but that doesn’t make much sense.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know him.”

Mom laughs softly.

“What’s funny?” I ask.

“I said the same thing about…”

“It’s okay. Mark. You can say it.”

She swallows audibly. “If you don’t know him, what do you like about him?”

I wonder if I can explain these clashing feelings inside of me, this certainty that tells me I should somehow find a way to be with Lukas again, even if it means the end of the only real friendship I’ve ever had. “How did it feel with Mark?” I ask.

“Like I was a moth drawn to a flame,” Mom says. “No matter how much I tried to fight it, I couldn’t. It wasn’t his personality or his looks. It just… was.”

“Ditto,” I mutter.

“But you’re worried Kayla will hate you?”

“How couldn’t she?” I demand. “It’s her ex. It’s pretty much the worst thing a friend can do.”

“Did she care about this ex? How long were they together?”

All her life. I stamp down on that since it’d make no sense. This is where my lie is going to become less useful.

“She really cared about him,” I say, dodging the question. “It would break her heart if she found out. I don’t know what to do.”

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