Page 19 of My Best Friend's CEO Dad

After breakfast, we hang out in the living room. I’m still working on my essay. Or, at least, I’m pretending to work. In reality, I’m listening to a movie soundtrack while I stare at a series of journal articles, none of the details filtering into my mind. Even through the headphones, I hear Kayla’s sewing machine.

Suddenly, it stops. “Maci?”

I debate whether to ignore her, staring at the screen, or hold my finger up as if to say, one minute, and pretend to forget she wants my attention. It isn’t easy to be normal around her and act like last night isn’t eating me up. Pretend it never happened. That was Mom’s advice, but can I?

“Yeah?” I say, taking off my headphones.

Kayla lowers her voice. “Did Dad seem normal to you at breakfast?”

“Normal? How would I know what normal is for him?”

Kayla narrows her eyes. I’m protesting way too passionately.

“I mean, I guess so?” I shrug—no big deal. It’s not like I care if his eyes glinted passionately whenever he looked at me or if I’m pretty sure he was mentally undressing me half the time. It’s not like my body tingles with every look he sends me. “He seemed a little shocked.”

“Mmm.” Kayla nods. “Honestly, I thought he’d be angrier. We don’t normally lie to each other. When Mom got too much to handle, and we couldn’t ignore her addiction anymore, he became my mom as well as my dad. Not that he’s feminine or anything like that,” she laughs, her eyes getting a faraway look as though she’s peering directly into the past. “But he’s always been there, you know?”

I swallow. “I know. You’re close.”

Kayla frowns tightly. Heck. My tone got dark, resentful. Now she thinks she’s rubbing the whole dad thing in my face. “Maci?—”

“It’s not like that,” I tell her. “Seriously.”

That’s part of being best friends. I don’t need to expand on what I’ve said. She understands, smiling with relief.

“Do you want to know about Ethan?” she asks.

I smile. For a split second, it’s like I forget the steamy nakedness in the pool. “Do you want me to want to know about Ethan?” I counter.

She clasps her hands together, getting dreamy-eyed. “We’ve talked so much since we matched. He takes so much interest in my projects. He knows a lot about fashion, which surprised me, especially since he’s so manly, and…” She lowers her voice even more. “Last night, he told me he loved me after we, you know…”

“Wait a sec.” I push my laptop aside. “How long have you known each other?”

She looks away. “Two weeks.”

“Last night, was that the first time you met?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Listen, Kay, you’re a lovable person. I’m not saying it’s impossible he’s telling the truth, but…”

She sighs. “Maybe he’s trying to get in with the Larsons?”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I don’t want to say it, but I don’t want to see you hurt again, either.”

“I know.” She wrings her hands together. “Obviously, I know that’s possible, but what if he’s genuine? What if I finally found the one genuinely nice man in the whole country?”

“Then I’ll be happy for you,” I tell her. “But?—”

“I know. Be careful.” She pauses. “It’s not black and white, anyway.”

“How so?”

“Maybe part of him does want to meet Dad because he’s, well, Dad, but maybe the rest of him loves me. Two things can be true at once.”

Before I can reply, she starts the steady sound of the sewing machine again. I pick up my laptop, thinking about what she said. Two things can be true: I want to be steamy with Lukas again, and I’d never do anything to hurt my best friend.

“Coffee?” I call over the sound of the machine a few minutes later.

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