Page 4 of Just Best Friends

I bit back a laugh. “Sure. So impotent.”

Her eyes narrowed before she returned to her work. She ripped off the piece of paper and slapped it onto the fridge under the impression the notepad was actually a sticky pad. The paper fluttered to the floor.

“Hm,” she said, sinking down with a wobble to scoop it back up. She found a magnet and affixed the paper to the font of the fridge with a nod. “There.”

“You’re doing quality work tonight,” I assured her, holding back a smile.

“At least I had a wish,” she said before throwing back the wine and setting the empty glass in her sink. “Bed?”

“Bed.”

CHAPTER2

Thea

I didn’t even haveto open my eyes to know I screwed up. My stomach clenched and spasmed , and my brain throbbed against my skull. The moment I opened my eyes, the pressure would bloom into an epic hangover, and I’d be scrambling to hold down whatever I ate the night before.

Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I scrubbed my face with my hand. My skin felt clean, free from the cakey aftermath of a full face of makeup from the night before. With that revelation, I could only assume the man beside me was my best friend and not my errant boyfriend.

Of course, I’d know Ben’s body anywhere, just like I knew the pattern of his breathing when he slept and his soft moan when he had a good dream. I snuggled into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of fresh air and pine. Not a cologne, although I’d kill to find that specific combination in a bottle.

No, Ben didn’t bother with hair care or fragrance or even fashion. Most of his clothes came from L.L. Bean, Patagonia or Carhartt, secondhand when possible, but mainly Christmas and birthday gifts from his mom. Except for the clothes I sewed him, everything had dozens of holes and snags, the shoulders scratched by raptors and pant cuffs mauled by bears.

“Are you gonna throw up?” Ben asked, voice low and gravelly.

“Maybe,” I admitted, peeling my eyes open and accepting the brief jolt of pain through my head with some grace. “How bad did we get last night?”

“Me? Not at all,” Ben said, a satisfied, smug look on his face I wanted to wipe back off. “You? Well, you were holding it together until the birthday wine.”

I groaned, running my tongue over my teeth, the acrid taste still in my mouth. “I opened it?”

“Yep. You insisted it was time.”

I pushed myself up, using Benny’s chest for leverage. He groaned underneath me, sitting up. “Breakfast?”

“Give me an hour,” I muttered, standing up and catching my reflection in the mirror. “Maybe two.”

“I’m starving and Cal sent a text saying he’s heading to the diner five minutes ago.”

“Cal can wait.” My stomach grumbled loudly, protesting the choice. “It’s my birthday.”

“Well, it’s my birthday too and I can’t wait,” he said with a grin. “Besides, you’ll feel better once you eat.”

Benny stood and crossed the room to my vanity, taking the neatly folded clothes off the tabletop and pulling on his shirt.

“Fine, forty-five minutes,” I conceded.

I stood up on my toes, peeking up over his shoulder to fluff my hair in the mirror. A little misshapen, but I could probably fix it without a shower.

“Twenty,” Ben countered, pulling on his pants.

I pouted, pushing out my lower lip. He didn’t blink. Benny was starving from a night of heavy drinking, one of the rare situations when I couldn’t coax him into waiting for me. “Twenty-five.”

I reached past him, rifling around in a drawer for a hair cap. He gave me a playful smack on the hip as I raced to the bathroom.

“If you want something to do, the kitchen tap has a leak.” I said. That should keep him busy for at least twenty-five minutes. By the time he realized I wouldn’t be down in the allotted time, I’d be close enough to dressed that he’d wait.

“On it. Better hurry though, Thea.”

---