Page 30 of Best Friend Burden

With the new ingredients and some last-minute modifications, I'd managed to make something the night before that I was comfortable putting my seal of approval on, though it would have been nice to have additional support from others.

Unfortunately, with Kiefer asleep and my unwillingness to wake him, I had to do the best I could, relying on my own judgment.

After thirty minutes or so of cooking — I'd get that time down significantly once I had the food truck up and ready — I put together a tin full of aluminum-wrapped tacos for my potential investors, and I prayed that they stayed warm and delicious, at least until it was time to present to them.

I left without saying goodbye to Kiefer and, as I walked down the hall towards the garage, I considered going back for a good luck kiss. As much as I wanted to, I was already running late, and I didn't want to seem too clingy.

As I drove out and sat in traffic, I couldn’t believe what had just happened. My teenaged brain was blown. I just had the best sex of my life with Kiefer Fuckin’ Ekland.

I smiled and even blushed a little. I always had a big personality, which was sometimes off-putting in relationships, so I did what I could to keep all those big emotions inside and try to hide how I truly felt.

I never got particularly good at it, though.

“It was more than worth the wait,” I told my inner teen. “You won't believe just how good it is.” I paused, remembering some of the awkward backseat hook-ups of my teenage years, with boys who fumbled with their hands and left saliva on my cheek and hickeys on my neck. Complete amateurs. The teenage version of myself would have settled for a guy who wasn't trying to hit my uvula with his tongue or a boy who grabbed at my nipples like they were twisting off toothpaste caps. I don't know what she would have done if she'd been in the hands of a master like Kiefer, who treated my body like... well, like one of his instruments.

I shuddered just thinking about it.

I could almost feel it all over again, being in bed with him with his tattoos up against my skin. God, it felt so good that I wondered why I wasn’t back in there with him right now.

I could hear the younger version of me ask, “So, is he your boyfriend then?”

It seems odd to be startled by a question that originated from my own head, but I didn't know how to answer, and I blushed again.

Well, no...I said, though my voice trailed off in my head.Is he?

I realized how naive I once was. Before I'd been ghosted by a million guys who all seemed interested, but never returned my texts. Just because they acted interested didn't mean anything the morning after. For all I knew, I would come home and Kiefer would act like it never even happened. Or he'd tell me to move out. Or... well, predicting the future was never something I was especially good at, and there were more pressing things at hand, like my entire career and the whole reason I moved here in the first place.

I needed to make sure I was focused and didn’t lose myself in Kiefer’s world. I was here with a purpose, and that purpose was not having my vagina serviced by the best “mechanic” in L.A.

A blaring horn brought me back to reality; a car was honking at me because the light was green. I drove through and kept the speed slow as I looked at the sidewalk, trying to find a place to parallel park. The honking car drove past me and gave me the finger for good measure, but I just ignored him.

Eventually, I found a tight spot that I managed to get myself into. I grabbed the taco tray and made my way to the office building, where I had my next investor meeting.

I was a solid ten minutes early when I showed up in the lobby and checked in. The secretary, a young woman who had a chemistry textbook open beside her, mistook me for a caterer at first.

“Oh, no,” I said. “I'm presenting a business opportunity.”

“Oh yeah?”

Over the years, I picked up several bits of wisdom from my dad about working in business. Not the kind of things I would have learned in school, but more practical items that teachers without actual experience might not be familiar with. And one of the most important pieces of advice he gave me was to never piss off the secretary. Always make sure that you're on her good side: she had a lot more pull than you might expect.

So I put the tin down on her desk and cracked the top off just a bit, then reached in and grabbed one of the tacos.

“Here,” I said, handing it to her. “I made a few extras just in case.”

The aroma clearly took her off-guard, and she sat up in her seat.

Another thing I knew was that people didn't like when others watched them eat. So as much as I would have wanted to see her expression, I turned around and walked away, then sat on the couch and focused my eyes on my phone, glancing up briefly to see if she was eating it.

She'd pulled some aluminum foil off and inspected what I'd given her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Shredded jackfruit, Texas-style,” I said, playing up my accent just a hint.

Cautiously, she took a bite. And then another and another.

I bit my tongue, which was begging me to ask her how it was, but I forced myself to remain patient and appear uninterested.

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