Falling for My Best Friend (Fated #1) (6 page)

I hated to see him hurting, and I could tell he was really
worried about her. To be honest, it kind of made me sick all things considered.

I mean, here he was, obsessing over ways he might be able to
help her, and she was off fucking some other guy who didn’t give a shit about
her.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. Maybe she knew Brad.
Maybe they were both volunteering at the nursing home together and decided to
grab lunch.

Or maybe that was horseshit.

I mean, Chelsea barely ate so lunch for her was more a social
thing than a biological necessity.

And while I was no expert on Brad- though I could probably
identify his decapitated body at a crime scene- I hadn’t gotten the impression
that he was the kind of guy that went out of his way to spend a lot of time
with lonely seniors.

After all, surely that’s the kind of thing you would mention if
you were trying to bang a chick. It would be the perfect anecdote for putting
yourself forward as a thoughtful and sensitive guy, the kind of guy it was safe
to fuck on a first date.

But there had been no mention of anything even remotely
altruistic over our lunch. Plus, that was Brad’s go to Tinder hot spot because
he had access to all the private massage rooms in the hotel spa… which were
surprisingly spacious.

Still, even though I never thought Chelsea was good enough for
Aiden, I didn’t want her to be cheating on him. Not just because it made me
sick to think about when I was supposed to be psyching myself up for ice cream,
but because if she was carelessly hurting him, I’d have to kill her.

Then she’d never have to count another calorie again.

But I wasn’t going to say anything to him about it now when we
were having a nice time. I didn’t want bad news interfering with our glorious
ice cream parlor hounding tradition.

Besides, what if I was wrong? That would be disastrous. It might
jeopardize his trust in me. Or worse, he might take her side and push me away.
Then we’d both be broken hearted.

I mean, he was my best friend in the whole world. The only thing
I could imagine that would be more horrible than someone hurting him was if
someone came between us.

No. I couldn’t risk our friendship by gossiping about Chelsea unless
I knew for sure that she was being unfaithful. After all, Fiona and I left
before she and Brad did. Maybe they didn’t cross the street and go into the
hotel. Maybe I was just jumping to unfair conclusions because of my own
prejudices, like the fact that I didn’t trust people who thought ice cream was
evil.

I sighed. Either way, I was fucked.

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” Aiden asked, looking at the menu
hanging high on the opposite wall. “What are you going to go for?”

“I think I’m going to get the cake batter ice cream in a
sprinkle covered waffle cup.”

“Toppings?” he asked.

“No, I don’t want anything to interfere with my judgment of the
ice cream itself on this initial assessment.”

“A wise choice.”

“You?”

“I’m going to go with the double chocolate swirl in a chocolate
dipped waffle cone.”

“Toppings?”

“Peanut butter cup chunks,” he said. “For extra protein.”

I laughed. “Of course.”

“Do you ever worry that someday we’ll be collecting cavities
like we collect ice cream places now?”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” I said. “What we’ll do is skip the
cavity stage entirely and go straight to being gummy and toothless. After all,
you don’t need teeth to enjoy ice cream.”

“But what about the peanut butter cups,” he said, sticking out
his bottom lip.

“Don’t know what to tell you.”

He sighed. “Life is so cruel.”

“Maybe we could blend them up and you could drink them.”

He shook his head. “Too sad.”

“Won’t they melt in your mouth if you wait long enough?”

“Yeah, but I’d have to spend the whole day eating ice cream.”

“The horror!” I said, raising my hands to my cheeks.

“You’re right. That is exactly how I want to spend my
retirement.”

“You and me both,” I said.

We ordered our ice creams and watched as the assembly line of
“dessert specialists” mixed our concoctions to our exact specifications. By the
time the woman plopped my ice cream in its temporary waffle nest, my mouth was
watering so much I was afraid I would start drooling on myself if I didn’t take
a bite soon.

Aiden’s chocolate eyes were as big as his cone when he turned to
me at the end of the counter. “Can you hold this while I pay?” he asked.

“I already paid.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he said. “I’m the one that suggested this
place.”

“Yeah, but you paid last time.” I grabbed a handful of napkins
out of the dispenser and shoved them in my purse. “What do you say we find a
nice bench where we can focus on the ice cream at hand.”

“Lead the way.”

We crossed the street and went through the black iron gates of
Venus Park. Aiden didn’t lower his cone from in front of his face a single time
on the way to the closest bench. The joy he got from having his own massive
scoop of ice cream was infectiously cute. It was one of my favorite things
about our ice cream outings.

“How is it?” I asked when we finally sat down. “Or is that a
stupid question?”

He lowered the cone, revealing a smile framed by chocolate lips.
“It’s heaven.”

I reached in my purse for some napkins. “The peanut butter cups
were a good call then?”

“Best decision I’ve ever made.”

I laughed and handed him some napkins.

“It’s all over my face, isn’t it?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Just your mouth.”

He stuck his tongue out and swiped it along the entire perimeter
of his lips, making a face full of intense concentration.

“Whoa, you looked really serious there for a second,” I said.
“And also kind of like a monkey.”

“Whatever. I’d be devastated if I missed a drop of this. It’s
too good.”

“And you don’t even need a prescription.”

He smiled. “How’s yours?”

I sucked another bite off my tiny plastic spoon, letting the
cool sweetness dissolve on my tongue and slide down my throat. “I must say I’m
impressed with how well they’ve married the cake batter with the ice cream.
It’s super cakey and creamy at the same time. To be honest, I might never eat
another vegetable again.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Cake and ice cream is a classic combo.”

“Maybe the best ever.”

I heard a crack and looked at Aiden just in time to see him suck
a piece of chocolate coated waffle cone in his mouth.

“You’re going to get brain freeze,” I said.

“I tried to eat slower this time.”

“But you didn’t.” I shook my head. “Sometimes I think you’ll
never learn.”

Suddenly, his forehead wrinkled and he started to squint. “Oh god-
there it is.”

I laughed.

“I’m glad you’re amused,” he said. “It really hurts.”

“You did it to yourself though. As usual.”

He leaned one arm against the back of the bench and rested his
forehead in his hand. “I blame the concussions.”

I looked at his furrowed face and smiled.

“It doesn’t seem fair that I should be punished for my enthusiasm.”

“Oh, it’s your enthusiasm that’s the problem, is it?” I asked. “I
thought it was the fact that there’s a greedy little fat kid inside you.”

He looked up at me. “For the record, there’s been no sight of
him since eighth grade.”

“Well, lord knows we saw more than enough of him back then.”

He shook his head. “You are too cruel.”

“Actually, I thought that year before your growth spurt was the
best thing that ever happened to you.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“Cause you learned how to take a joke. It gave you a thick
skin.”

“I’d trade my thick skin for your self-control any day.”

“Self-control isn’t all that great,” I said, looking at some
chocolate he missed on his lip. “In fact, sometimes I wish I didn’t have so
much.”

I waited until Lucy unlocked the door to her apartment building
before pulling away from the curb.

I don’t know if it was just the hit of sugar from the
unreasonably decadent portion of ice cream I’d just taken to the face or the
fact that nobody lifted my spirits like she could, but I was feeling really
good.

I knew it was unfair to compare my girlfriend to Lucy
considering that we grew up together, but it was disappointing that neither
Chelsea nor my parents could feign even a fraction of the enthusiasm that Lucy
did in my goals.

It wasn’t like I was under any delusions that Chelsea was The One
or anything, but she was still supposed to be the person I could rely on more
than anyone. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t interested in the same stuff as me...
apart from sex and money, of course. But I did care about her, and we’d been
through a lot together.

Which is why I was going to have a talk with her as soon as I
got home.

After all, no one else knew how poorly she was taking care of
herself, and I had waited long enough to say something.

And I had every right. Plus, if my parent’s awkward relationship
had taught me anything, it was that communication was an essential part of a
relationship. Or at least, avoiding communication at all costs doesn’t help
anything.

She was sitting on the couch when I let myself into the
apartment.

“Where were you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on her magazine.

“Hello to you, too,” I said, tossing my keys in the bowl by the
front door.

“Well?”

“I went to check out a new ice cream place with Lucy.”

“Of course you did. Cause I can’t leave you alone for two
seconds without you going to hang out with her.”

“Chill, Chelse. You know I like ice cream, and you don’t eat it.
It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

I laughed. “Yes, getting ice cream is code for that. Didn’t you
know?”

“I’m serious, Aiden. You’ve been spending a lot of time with
her.”

“Gee, I guess you’re right. I mean, if I started hanging out
with her when I was ten-” I looked up and pretended to count on my fingers.
When I looked back at her she was seething.

“I’m not laughing.”

“And I’m not sleeping with Lucy, okay? If that was going to
happen it would’ve happened a long time ago.”

She tossed the magazine to the side and crossed her legs.

“Are you sure you’re not upset about something else?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay, good,” I said, taking a seat on the couch. “Cause I would
never cheat on you, babe. You know that, right?”

She nodded.

“Are you in for the night?” I asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I was hoping we could talk about something.” I scooted next to
her.

“What?”

“I want to talk to you about what happened the other day-”

“I told you I was sorry-”

“Not about what you said.” I put my arm across the couch behind
her. “About what your agent said.”

She laid her head on my shoulder. “About what?”

“About you being too skinny.”

She sat up, wiggling out from under my arm. “What about it?”

“Don’t get all worked up. I just want to have a calm
discussion.”

“You want to have a calm discussion about my weight?”

I nodded.

She cocked her head at me. “Do you know nothing about women?”

“Look, you know I think you look great.”

“What’s your point?”

“I think you would look even better if you gained a few pounds.”

“A few
pounds
?!”

“Yeah. I think you would feel better, too.”

“Did my agent put you up to this?” she asked, scooting away.

“No, Chelse. I’m only mentioning it because I care about you,
and I want you to be happy.”

Her bottom lip started to shake.

“And I think if you ate a little more you would be happier, and
maybe it would even help you get more jobs which I know is important to you.”

“I literally can’t believe you right now.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you would pick a fight with me when I’m already
waging a battle on another front.”

“What front?”

She raised her arm in the air and pointed at the middle of her
forehead.

I squinted. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m calling it Luther.”

I couldn’t see the personified pimple she was referring to. “I
don’t see anything.”

“Well, Luther is adding more than enough weight to my frame as
it is.”

“I bet Luther would go away if you started eating a balanced
diet.”

“I don’t expect you to get it because eating has always been an
important part of your job, but it’s the opposite for me.”

“Okay, I’m not an idiot. I get that you don’t think I’m the
right person to talk to about your diet, but you need to talk to someone- a
professional or something.”

“A professional?!” She put a hand over her chest. “Oh my god. You
think I need psychological help?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I do.”

“How can you say that? I’m just trying to stay ahead of the
competition.”

“You won’t be competing with anyone if you don’t start eating.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? It’s bad enough that I have
my agent bullying me, but I never thought I would hear this shit from you.”

“I’m not bulling you, and I’m not going to make you do anything
you don’t want to do. I’m just trying to help.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You know what would help?”

“What?”

“If you stopped spending all your free time with Lucy and
actually paid attention to me for a change.”

“Are you kidding?! All I do is pay attention to you. Believe it
or not, you’re not as low maintenance as you think you are.”

She gasped.

It was everything I could do not to laugh. Was she really so
lacking in self-awareness that she thought I paid more attention to Lucy than I
did to her?

“She put that idea in your head. I know she did.”

“She did no such thing. In fact, she asked how you were doing.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you were fine, that you were volunteering at the nursing
home today.”

She pursed her lips.

“But that’s not true, is it?”

“What? Of course it’s true.”

“Then why do you smell like cranberry vodka.”

“Because.”

“Because…”

“Because I got drinks with some of the volunteers after we were
done.”

“Why didn’t you call me to come meet you?”

“Cause it was just for a quick drink, and then we all went home.”

I nodded. “How’s your Grandma?”

“Good.”

“Did you tell her I said hi?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” I put my arms behind my head and leaned back. “So when
are you going to talk to someone about your eating habits?”

She walked over to the fridge and pulled a bottle of vodka out
of the freezer. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I wasn’t going to.”

“It’s not optional.”

She took a pull from the bottle and squeezed her eyes shut as
the frozen liquid flowed down her throat. “I thought you said you weren’t going
to make me.”

“What’s in your stomach besides vodka right now?”

“A big greasy burger. Is that what you want to hear? That I went
out with the other volunteers and ate a bunch of onion rings and a bowl of
Cajun fries. Would that do it for you?”

“No, I want to hear the truth.”

“In that case, cranberry juice,” she said. “And six olives.”

I closed my eyes for a second. “What do you want for dinner?
I’ll get anything you want.”

“I don’t want anything,” she said, sliding the vodka back in the
freezer. “I’m stuffed.”

I shook my head. “Fine. Cause I’m full, too.”

Full up to here.