On A Crazy Idea: A Best Friends To Lovers Story Page 2

  The man glances up when I stop at his table and forces a welcoming smile on his face. The smile is easy going, his thin lips stretched into a perfect smile, showing straight white teeth. His eyes of a chocolate brown color are laced with sadness, but they don’t let on of any wariness he could feel upon seeing an unknown woman standing next to his table and watching him like a hawk.

  All in all, that man is quite the average male American.

  “Can I help you?’’ he asks with a soft voice, so soft that I barely register his words with all the noises in the bar from the chatters, waves of laughter and the jazzy music coming from every corner of the bar.

  I smile and brace myself. If there’s once in my life that I need to master the art of hitting on a guy, it’s now or never. I have to play the act of my life. I sit in the booth opposing his and tilt my head on one side coyly, still smiling at him. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.’’

  He shakes his head, the sadness fast deserting his eyes to be replaced by a new interest. Typical male behavior. It’s almost too easy. He leans on his elbows, his face getting closer to me above the table. “Not at all. What would you like to—‘’

  “She’d like nothing at all,’’ Brock breaks in with a dark voice I haven’t heard since I told him why I broke up with my last boyfriend and he was determined to go and bash his face in. “Get up, Addy, before I make a scene.’’

  I gulp and immediately stand up under the surprised look of the blond man that shall remain un-named. I’m mortified. Without a word and with my eyes downcast, I walk away and out of the bar, not once looking up. Outside, I breathe deep in, listening to the cars oozing past, some honking in the crisp fall night.

  I know Brock is behind me, standing, guarding. On one side I want to turn around and punch him for butting in my business, but another side of me wants to turn around and hug the hell out of him.

  I do want a kid, but picking a random guy isn’t the way to do it. Maybe the in vitro is the best option even though it’s still creepy to think about choosing the sperm donor in a binder just like you’d do to pick a couch. And still! The couch, you’d sit in it before buying it.

  “Don’t worry, next time I won’t ask you to come with me,’’ I say weakly, breaking the stretching silence between us.

  He walks to me and stands next to me, his big arm touching mine. We’re both looking at the busy nightlife of Chicago unfolding in front of us. Some of the young crowd are already with a good buzz, laughing loudly in the streets, while other people are slowly strolling around.

  “You deserve better than that, Addy. I don’t understand what is going on, but if you feel alone, you can go out and date instead of jumping straight to the step of kids.’’

  “Just forget about it.’’ I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. My light jacket isn’t helping much when the fall breeze picks up. Brock snakes an arm around my shoulder and brings me closer to his firm and tall body. His heat warms me immediately.

  “Does that mean that you’re giving up on this crazy idea?’’

  “I don’t know yet.’’

  His grip on me tightens. I glance at his face, and I can only see his profile, but it’s enough. He’s not happy with my answer. But I’m not going to lie to him just to ease his mind. I don’t know what to do, but I do know that I want a kid. I’m afraid of the years passing by, of the fact that I’m still single at twenty-seven. What if I don’t ever meet the one guy made for me? What if I miss my time and end up without a kid and without the love I’ve always craved and imagined of having, or better yet, living?

  “Do you really want to get pregnant?’’

  I nod against his side, my face brushing his firm pec. “Yes. I never told you this, but I’ve been thinking about it more and more. I’ve got a great job, money, and a great family, but I still want more than this.’’

  He clears his throat, runs a hand up and down my arm while he keeps me securely pressed against him. “Then let me help you.’’

  “What do you mean?’’

  He releases me and faces me with the serious face he’s got since I first told him my plan in his office. It’s so out of character that it’s starting to worry me. I tilt my head to one side as he fidgets from one foot to the other, something he never does. From all the years I’ve known him, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him this nervous. He blows air and then locks his eyes into mine, freezing me on the spot.

  “I’ll give you a baby.’’

  I blink and gape at him. I shake my head and push away a stray hair trying to find its way in my mouth. “You’re not saying that you’re going to sleep with me, right?’’ I giggle and swat his arm at this sick joke.

  But he doesn’t crack a smile, that breathtaking smile that is crooked and puts on display a set of dimples that are sigh-worthy. No, he’s standing straight as a ramrod in front of me, arms crossed over his broad chest and with a frown darkening his eyes.

  “You want a baby, and I can give it to you. You know I don’t have any STDs, that I’m not a creep, and you have my medical family history. And I’m your best friend.’’

  “No. Nuh-uh. Not happening.’’ I shake my head and hold up a hand to stop any other words to leave his mouth. Earlier he told me I was deep in crazy-land, but I think he’s farther into it than I could ever go.

  “Why?’’

  “Why? Why!’’ I pace in front of him, my mind running wild while I’m trying to block unwanted images to come up in my overwhelmed brain. I’ve known Brock since we both were in diapers. He’s my boy next door without the romantic ideas and longing that come with it. If there is one thing that made our friendship last, it’s the lack of sexual ambiguity between us. We never even kissed and now he’s going straight for the kill! “Brock, to make a baby we have to sleep together.’’

  He arches an eyebrow and smirks at me. “I’m well aware of that, Addy.’’

  “Sex! Between you and me!’’ I shake my head and pace again, not feeling the pain in my feet anymore. I don’t feel the cold seeping in my body either. “It’s impossible.’’

  “Why not?’’

  “Are you shitting me!’’ I yell at him, startling him. He takes a step back as if to ensure his safety. Wise decision, Brock. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down and go back to a more reasonable behavior than what I’m showing at the moment. “It would be too weird to sleep together.’’

  “Because sleeping without protection with some random dude isn’t weird? Seriously, Addy, I’m giving you the best option you could hope for. What’s the issue?’’

  I poke at his chest forcefully and cringe when his tight and perfectly formed abs resist my finger. “We’re best friends, and I don’t want it to end because your crazy manwhore mind thinks it’s a good idea without possible consequences.’’

  “Hey!’’ He swats my hand away and leans down to bring his face near mine. “You’re the one who wants a kid at twenty-seven all of a sudden. I’m just willing to help you, and you’re making a scene. What is wrong with you women!’’

  “Sexist pig!’’

  He growls and turns around, giving me his back. “Lunatic!’’

  “Shut up you… you…’’

  He turns back to me. A crooked smirk slowly forms on his face, making my blood boil even more. “Yeah? Me what?’’

  I yell something incoherent that I can’t define and humph, grabbing my phone to call for a taxi to go back home. I have had enough of this asswipe. His hand shoots forward, and he snatches my cell, leaving me gaping at my empty hand.

  “Brock, give it back.’’ I tap my foot on the concrete ground, my anger rising fast. He's an immature jerk, and at his, it’s deplorable. “Now.’’

  He chuckles and puts my phone in his pants pocket, obviously determined to not leave me out of the hook. Does he really want to talk about sex and us in the same sentence? I can’t believe it even crossed his mind. I never envisioned asking him to get me pregnant. He is handsome, and I might have had a few
sexy dreams about him when I was a teenager and blossoming in my sexuality, but it never left dreamland, and I could count on the fingers of one hand how many times I dreamed about him and sex.

  I could never sleep with him. Physically, it’s just impossible.

  “Why are you so mad?’’

  I relax and I let out a big sigh. I’m acting like an immature, prude girl when I should be more composed. Apparently, I can be composed and mature only at work in the safety of the building that has my family name on it. Outside of it, I tend to act like a teenager whenever something frazzles me.

  “Can you imagine how weird it would be afterward between us? And don’t get me started on how impossible it would be to have sex with you. I’m sure it’s the same for you. I get it that you want to help and that you’re worried about me. As your usual protective self, you want to do anything for me, but this, it’s not gonna happen.’’

  He leans against the dirty wall of the building’s bar and crosses his legs and arms. He’s all casual when I’m wrung tight from this insane chat. “Addy, sex is mechanical. You’re a woman, and I’m a man. It would work.’’

  “I can’t with you,’’ I blurt out, pacing once again in front of him, my eyes watching my feet moving.

  “You’re the first woman ever to tell me this.’’

  I glance up and watch his bow-shaped, pink lips stretched in a disturbing twist. I’m sure he’s not used to someone turning him down, but I’m his oldest friend, his best friend. It’s not the same. “Suck it up, Casanova. Go back to the bar, find someone to have your way with and you’ll feel all better and forget everything about having sex with me.’’ I held up my hand, palm up to retrieve my phone, but he doesn’t move.

  He cocks his head on one side, his jet black hair falling in his gold-brown eyes. “I will not let you pick any random guy for this, and I will follow you everywhere until I’m sure you either agree to let me help you or you give up on getting pregnant for now.’’ He casually shrugs as if it means nothing to him one way or the other.

  I must be in another dimension. It’s the only explanation. How come he’s not weirded out or disgusted at the simple idea of having sex with me? Is he such a manwhore that he’s reduced to not caring at all with whom he’s getting dirty and sweaty? If so, he needs help ASAP.

  “You know what? Let’s just forget it for tonight. I’ll go back home alone and think about it tomorrow. By then maybe I’ll convince myself that you didn’t really propose to have sex with me.’’

  “I don’t understand why you make such a big deal of it, Addy.’’ He fishes my phone from his pocket and gives it back. I quickly snatch it before he changes his mind and put it out of my reach. I cradle it in between my hands and glare at him. His smile widens, carving his dimples deeper in his cheeks.

  “I’m pretty sure your appendage hanging between your legs makes it impossible to understand.’’

  He snorts and uncrosses his arms and legs to walk to me. “I’ll drive you home.’’

  I roll my eyes and start walking to his car parked a couple of blocks away. “As if it makes you go out of your way. We live in the same building.’’

  “And it’s Friday night, and I’m driving my best friend home. I’m not getting any action.’’

  I scrunch my nose and tilt my head up. “I’m going to be sick if I have to think about having sex with you when you’ve been with someone else mere hours before.’’

  “Does that mean you’re contemplating it?’’

  I punch his upper arm and bite back a scream at the pain in my knuckles. He shouldn’t be this muscled. I glare harder at him as his rich and deep chuckle envelops me. He’s incredibly annoying, and even though I’m queasy just thinking about his proposition, I can’t forget about it either. After all, having a baby made with the person I trust the most in this world isn’t so bad. It would only mean an hour top of feeling uncomfortable and then I could pretend to myself that I conceived my baby with someone else.

  I’m sure that I won’t sleep all night and it won’t be because I’m having too much fun. Great.

  “HONEY, YOU HAVE to make some effort,’’ my mother pleads for the third time since she called me ten minutes ago. Unfortunately for me, she’s caught me before I could take my first sip of coffee.

  I roll my eyes and sigh. “I don’t see why I should, Mom. I’m not the face of Cox Company.’’ I open my large fridge made with mirrors and ignore my wild mahogany hair and my long Harvard sweater that stops mid-thighs from my college years. Unfortunately, the fridge’s content is awfully lacking. There was only yogurt and beers for Brock. It’s blatant that I don’t eat here often, and when I do, I order take out.

  With a sneer for my fridge, I close it and lean against the spacious kitchen island, eyes down to the light gray tiled floor.

  “You will be the active CEO next year, Adeline. It's your duty to attend such events to represent the company and create new contacts. I shouldn’t even have to explain this to you!’’

  I repress an unwanted giggle at hearing my mother’s voice getting all squeaky as her nerves rise. It’s something that has always amused me and landed me in troubles growing up. After all, when your parents are teaching you a lesson or lecturing you, and you laugh at your mother’s face instead of showing remorse isn’t the best approach to avoid punishment.

  “Mom—‘’

  “At twenty-seven, you shouldn’t be whining anymore,’’ she butts in, but I swear I can hear her smile on the phone. “If it makes you feel better, Brock will be there. At least you two can mock the guests all night long.’’

  I perk a little at Brock’s mention.

  As predicted, because of him I had a restless night, overthinking everything he said and how strange it was to consider sleeping with him, but he is still my best friend and my partner in crime. If there is someone able to make an otherwise boring charity event fun, it’s him.

  “Do I have a choice?’’

  My mother laughs in the receiver her crystal, and carefree laugh that rings and draws out of me a smile. Even at sixty-four, she is still a very young spirit when it comes to her relationship with me. Though, the shock of generations is there.

  “I have a whole week to harass you with phone calls, emails, and text messages. You know what it means. Oh, and let’s not forget the wonders of Facebook.’’

  I groan and agree to go before I hang up and slouch on one of the four stools taking one side of the kitchen island. With my elbows planted on top of the sleek surface, I hide my face in my cold palms.

  I hate those social events. They are taxing on energy and mine is very dwindling these days. Spending hours in a fancy hotel, talking with other people while trying to sale my family company and listening to other’s endeavors made only to impress their peers is not my idea of fun. That’s when I realize the gap between my twenty-seven years to these people in their late fifties living for these social events. After all, I’m closer to my college years than to retirement, which is quite the opposite to most attendees.

  The sound of keys in my front door’s lock reach me, but I don’t look up. When the door opens, and heavy footsteps come in toward my open kitchen, my heartbeat doesn't even speed. Only one person has the keys to my place.

  “Did thinking about me naked keep you awake all night?’’ Brock asks and puts a paper bag on the immaculate island.

  I will my cheeks to not blush. Seriously, in close to three decades of friendship, we have never talked about sex as in sex together or hinting at it. Fortunately, I have enough self-control not to feel my cheeks heat. I remove my hands from my face and place them under my chin.

  Brock’s smirk is maddening. He’s having way too much fun at my expense. Even his dimples, white teeth, jet black hair in disarray are bugging me. He chuckles as if he can read my mind and pulls up to his elbows the sleeves of his dark gray v neck sweater.

  “Tell me you brought a bagel.’’

  “Open and see for yourself.’’ He pushes the
paper bag to me, and I greedily grab it. My stomach growls loudly at the same time, and I smile at Brock, thankful for his thoughtfulness. I can never stay mad at the man.

  Inside, a big bagel is calling my name. I take it out, and without missing a beat, I take a bite and groan like an animal. “Damn, I love bagels.’’

  He chuckles and walks around the island to sit next to me while I devour my breakfast. Three more bites and I’ll already be finished with it. I’m eating like a pig, but in front of Brock, I don’t care. He’s seen me at my worst and vice versa.

  “Did you hear from your mother already? She called me at the crack of dawn.’’

  I nod and shrug. “The woman is unquestionably desperate. I can’t say that I blame her. She knows how annoying these things are and while she doesn’t like how I don’t take these seriously, she enjoys my company to distract her.’’ I eat the last of my bagel and then glance sadly at the now empty paper bag.

  “She took me at a moment of weakness. I was still half asleep, and I agreed to go without realizing what I agreed to. It was too late when my brain decided to join the little chat.’’

  I pat his big shoulder and stand up, stretching my aching back while tugging down my sweater as to not flash him. Brock glances at my legs, but looks away quickly, balling the empty bag and standing to throw it away in the basket.

  “She’s good. She used to be a lawyer after all.’’ I round the island and put my mug in the dishwasher and then glance at the clock above the stove. It’s already half past ten. “What are your plans today?’’ I ask before I walk out of the kitchen and turn on the Bluetooth speaker to play a random playlist on my iTunes account in the big living room decorated simply with black furniture and a few colorful objects. The decoration isn’t exactly my taste, but I rented the place already furnished, and I never decided to change anything, always claiming that the first time I’d buy an apartment or a house would be my first attempt at decorating to reflect my personality. I have enough money to buy a respectable place in a good neighborhood, but I never did. I guess having my best friend as my neighbor is one of the reasons why I’m still living here.