Page 1 of Friend Zoned

Chapter 1

Aiden

I’d rather be at home watching Colt Chastain on ESPN than pulling up to this palatial estate on a Saturday evening to attend his impromptu wedding. But he’s not only my favorite basketball player, he’s the most mature guy on the team. There are about a dozen cars in the circular driveway, all of them worth a hundred grand or more. Well, except for the black Toyota Rav4 in front of me.

As I park, both front doors of the Rav4 open, and an older black woman steps out of the passenger side looking around in awe. It’s a cold December evening, and she’s wearing a long red wool coat. She says something to her companion who has stepped out on the driver’s side; she’s a young, black female, dressed in black from head to toe. She’s even wearing a big black hat, the kind a widow might wear to bury her husband. The kind of hat that seems more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding.

The older woman, who appears to have a noticeable limp, rounds the vehicle to the driver’s side and pulls the hat off her companion’s head. She says something I can’t hear, so I roll down my window. Normally, this type of thing doesn’t interest me, but watching them has piqued my curiosity.

“Hey! Give me back my hat, Mother.” The younger woman’s mother throws the hat in the car, slams the door shut, and blocks it with her body.

“This is a wedding, not a funeral. Don’t embarrass me.”

“You’re the one who begged me to come with you,” the younger woman says.

“You know I don’t like to drive at night, and I don’t beg. I call and you come. If you call me, don’t I always show up?” She crosses her arms and waits for an answer.

“Yes, fine, but I don’t see why I can’t wear my hat.”

“There are lots of young football players here.” The older woman pats the younger woman’s face. “Smile. You are pretty when you smile. These men are rich,” she whispers.

Unless Chastain invited a football team, I think the older woman has her sports mixed up. The younger woman is not impressed either way.

“Oh, great. I can’t wait.” Her voice drips with heavy sarcasm. “I hope I can restrain myself.”

When she opens the back door to pull out a big black purse, I get my first glimpse of her face and it is flawless. Smooth brown skin made up, but light and natural. Her short hair whips around the top of her head in the heavy winds.

“Why didn’t you wear something more festive? It’s almost Christmas.”

“Mother, are you going to criticize everything about me all night?”

“Yes, I’m your mother. That’s my job.” She pats her daughter’s face again.

At that, I laugh. The younger woman holds a hand up and looks away, pretending to be offended.

“I will fight you, old woman.” She drops the purse and holds two fists up. The two pretend to box, and it’s clear neither one of them knows what the hell they are doing. They wave their fists around and bump them into each other until the mother wraps her arm around her daughter’s.

“Let’s go. Remember what I said, Jeannie. Don’t embarrass me.”

Jeannie. Somehow the name fits her.

“I’ll try not to get drunk and do a strip tease.”

I wouldn’t mind seeing that. Despite the long coat covering her body, I can tell she has a nice shape underneath. She’s tall, too. Several inches taller than her mother. A heavy gust of wind blows, and the two let out a giggle and speed walk inside.

I turn my car off and step out into the wind to follow them.

The moment I get inside the mansion, I’m greeted by a server holding a tray of drinks. There are several different cocktails, but I grab a glass of red wine and move further into the home, noticing the white chairs set out for the wedding in the formal living room. I take off my coat, and someone takes it, handing me a ticket to retrieve it later. I look around and spot the mother and daughter. They’re on the other side of the room, and Jeannie is helping her mother with her coat before shrugging off her own.

I was right. She’s tall and lean, with nice hips, a firm ass, and a perfect set of breasts. That’s a woman’s body. She’s wearing a black shirt under a black blazer and a black skirt that reaches her knees. Her legs are visibly toned under thick black stockings and she’s wearing ballet flats that don’t seem to go with the outfit. Someone is making a statement that she’s here under protest.

The outfit can’t be described as anything other than plain and matronly, but on her body, it’s sexy as sin. Especially the bottom half with her hips and ass that sit in the skirt just right. My eyes travel up and land on her breasts. I was right. They’re perfect. Not too big or too small. Perfect to fit in the palm of my hand. She looks up at the exact moment that I lick my lips, and our eyes lock. It’s brief, but something in the room sizzles, and I feel my heart rate pick up for the first time in years. At least outside of a workout.

She looks away, and the moment is lost. Even from a distance, I can tell she’s clearing her throat and doing her best to appear comfortable. A server comes by, and she grabs a colorful cocktail. She takes a sip and must approve because her full lips curl into a small smile until her mother swipes the drink from her and drinks it.

She puts a finger in Jeannie’s face and waves it. “You have to drive me. No drinking.” Jeannie flags down the server and grabs another. “That won’t be for hours. If I have to be here, I’m drinking. Don’t make me fight you again.” She makes a fist, and so does her mother. They knock them together once. “Keep it up and you’ll be taking the bus home,” Jeannie warns.

Her mother waves her off. “I have work to do. I’m going to find you a nice, young man.” She leans closer to Jeannie’s ear, and I take a few steps toward them so I can hear. “Mr. Colt knows a lot of young black men. Did I mention they are rich?” she adds again.

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