Unfriend Me: A Small Town Best Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Jobs From Hell Book 3)

by Marika Ray

“You could have fooled me with the way you’re reacting to all this relationship drama.”

  My jaw dropped and I forgot the bottle momentarily. “Fucking truth-bomb-dropping time. That kinda stung, Lucy.”

  “Well, it’s true. Daire is treating you like shit—ake mushrooms—and you’re not batting an eyelash. I say you get as drunk as you need to and then you use that alcohol power to break up with him. Today. Via text since that’s all he deserves.”

  I frowned, the vehemence in Lucy’s voice making me pause. “Girl, is Bain withholding sex again? Because you’re sounding scarier than Poppy with a juicy tidbit.” I swore the meddling woman only got a job with the postal service to have a reason to snoop on the townsfolk of Auburn Hill.

  She sighed. “No, it’s not that, it’s just the minute we got the nighttime sleeping thing all ironed out, my darling R-O-X-Y decided not to take N-A-P-S.”

  I snickered. I loved it when two-year-old Roxy was in the room and Lucy had to censor her conversation. Her mommy cursing got as creative as our friend, Lenora, when she drove.

  “But forget all that. What’s important here is you recognize Daire’s no good for you, babe. You deserve so much better.” Lucy’s voice softened and I sobered quickly.

  She was right. I knew it. She knew it. Hell, everybody in town knew it. And yet, I just kept denying it. Kept trying to make it work. Kept bending my principles to give him another chance. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I’d turned down invites from my girls because I figured Daire would want to hang out instead.

  I was sick of it. Sick of myself. Definitely sick of him.

  I sighed, looking longingly at the vodka bottle. “I know.” I took a big inhale and stood up tall, decision made quickly before I could chicken out. “Okay. I’ll break up with him today. Pinkie promise.”

  “Girl, you know the gravity of a pinkie promise, right?” Lucy sounded cautiously hopeful and it made me sad she didn’t trust me to break up with Daire. I’d given her no reason to think I had the fortitude to actually do it.

  “If I don’t break up with him today, you can tar and feather me in front of the statue in the roundabout. How about that for gravity, bitch?” I smirked with a display of confidence, even though my stomach lurched at what I’d have to do today.

  Lucy squealed and I heard Roxy in the background join her, happy that mama was happy. “Yes! Finally. Okay, sorry. I shouldn’t be jumping for joy, but I’m just so glad you’ve come to your senses. I miss Amelia.”

  I swallowed hard. “I know. Me too.”

  We hung up a little while later and I put the stupid, defective vodka bottle down to take a shower. The Day of the Breakup would start by literally washing that man right out of my hair. Then I’d put on makeup, get dressed, and text him. Lucy was right. He deserved a text breakup. If I could have sent smoke signals instead, I would have, just to make it even less personal.

  The longer it took me to get ready, the angrier I got. I meant it when I told Lucy I missed myself. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I used to be happy, crackling with energy and pumping out the attitude that I could take on the world. But lately, all I did was hang on Daire’s every word, jump on his bike when he said jump, and worry about what he’d think of my new dress, or how I did my hair, or what I said the other day. When had I morphed into this pathetic girl who lived her life according to a man?

  The man was hot, but no man was hot enough to warrant losing myself.

  He wasn’t worth my obsession. He was an asshole with a capital A and last night was the last straw. We’d been having a good time at that bar when I went to the bathroom. A guy approached me when I came out, flirted, and I turned him down. The whole exchange took less than thirty seconds. But Daire saw us and got in one of his moods, accusing me of flirting with the guy first. A little later, he ditched me to get another drink at the bar, but the next thing I knew, he was leading some woman out to the patio, his hand around her waist. Oh, I knew what he was doing. He was paying me back. Trying to make me as jealous as he was. We’d done this song and dance before. I fucking hated this song and dance.

  So I sat there and waited for him to come back. And waited. When he didn’t come back inside for fifteen minutes, I got my phone out to call someone to pick me up. Thing was, I couldn’t call any of my girlfriends as they all had jobs and lives and husbands. It was after midnight and I highly doubted I’d find a ride share driver out here in the middle of nowhere. I pulled up Titus’s contact information and paused, knowing that calling him was wrong of me. I’d basically ditched Titus, my best friend, when Daire and I started dating. And here I was calling him to rescue me in the middle of the night. I hit call anyway, desperate enough I’d face the music with the one guy who’d never let me down, even after I let him down repeatedly.

  Once I was dressed, I shoved the vodka bottle back in the fridge and pulled out a White Claw. I never drank these around Daire as he said they were “pussy drinks,” but damn, I really loved them.

  “So, fuck you and your non-pussy drinks.” I raised my can in the air to an imaginary Daire and slugged it back.

  I flopped down in the recliner chair and pulled up a new text message to Daire. Took me fifteen minutes of writing, erasing, and rewriting to get the message the way I wanted it. Direct and to the point was best. No emojis to soften the blow no matter how badly I wanted to use the middle finger emoji. The whole thing would have gone faster if my palm hadn’t been so sweaty. I dropped the damn phone in my lap five times before I was done.

  Amelia: Hey, I’ve been thinking. We need to break up. I’m no good for you and vice versa. It’s been fun, but it’s time to move on. Have a good life.

  My heart was beating like I’d gone for a run. I snorted in the silent room. I was surprised I even remembered what going for a run felt like. I think my last run could have been the last day of physical education my senior year of high school. I took another swig of my drink and gave myself a mental pep talk. The pep talk looked a lot like the Shia LaBeouf Just Do It video I’d watched about a hundred times.

  “I’m making my dreams come true, Shia!” I shouted and hit send in a mad rush of angry motivational energy.

  I dropped the phone like it was a snake and jumped to my feet, staring at it. I did it. I finally fucking did it. The elation of breaking free made me feel like I stuck my hand in an electric socket. I shook my booty, imaginary celebratory song in my head, spilling my drink on the beige carpet. I’d clean that up later. Now? It was party time.

  There was a knock on the door.

  My head swung up and the sudden movement made me dizzy. There wasn’t any more light coming in through the window, so it must be nighttime. Odd time for housekeeping to be coming by. Maybe my music was too loud and the front desk had gotten a complaint?

  “Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered, turning the little speaker off and swiping my hair away from my sticky face.

  Some people meditated or got some exercise or talked with trusted friends when they were emotionally overwhelmed. I danced and drank. Alone. In my room. By myself. Shut the fuck up. Totally normal and healthy, so take your sniffy advice elsewhere, Judgy Judy.

  I wobbled over to the door, needing a hand on the wall to stay upright. How many of those cans had I drunk today? Not so many I didn’t remember safety. I looked through the peephole first, jumping back with a startled gasp when I saw a man at the door.

  Titus.

  I swung the door open and nearly went down with the violent movement. As it was, I had to push off the wall to get back to upright. Titus frowned. I frowned back.

  “What?” I barked by way of greeting.

  He looked up and down the hall before zeroing in on my face. “Can I come in?”

  I backed up and he came in, his cologne following him like a cloud. I followed my nose and nearly hit the backside of him. He’d stopped, his hands going to his hips as he surveyed my room.

  “What?” I asked again, telling myself to quit sniffing him
.

  “Is all the alcohol because the breakup went bad or good?” He spun around and I had to back up a step to look at him. Dude was tall. And surprisingly good-looking for a guy who sported a mullet. Whoa. Where did that thought come from?

  “What?”

  A thick blond eyebrow lifted, and if I wasn’t imagining it, one side of his lips tilted into a smile. “How many times can you ask the same question, Amelia?”

  I frowned, not following. “What?”

  Titus cracked up at that, reaching out to pull me into a hug. “How drunk are you, sweetheart?”

  “Mmm,” I muttered, my face plastered against a solid, granite chest. Drunk enough to moan over my best friend’s pecs, I guess. “Very.”

  Titus rubbed my back and I curled into him, willing to purr if he’d keep going. Instead, he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back. “What did Daire say when you broke up with him?”

  I slumped, not really wanting to talk about it. “Wait. How do you know I broke up with him?”

  Titus shrugged and had a seat on my recliner, making himself at home. “Lucy told Bain, who told Rip, who told me. You, Amelia, could have just told me yourself, you know.”

  I sagged onto my bed, that guilt from last night barreling back in. “I know. I guess I felt bad about how we’ve been since Daire came along and…” I trailed off, not able to put into words what I was feeling.

  Titus leaned forward, putting me out of my misery like the nice guy he’d always been. “I know. So how did he react?”

  I tilted my head to the side and figured it was a good sign when the whole room didn’t tilt and lurch. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked at my phone all day.”

  Titus sighed, standing up to grab my phone off the floor, almost under my bed, where I’d kicked it during one particularly fun dance move. You never know what you’re capable of on the dance floor until your favorite jam comes on.

  He put in my code, which I hadn’t changed in years, and scrolled to my message string from Daire. I looked away and tried to suck in some oxygen. I’d been putting this off all day in favor of White Claw and Drake. Avoidance for the win, baby!

  Titus made a choking noise.

  “What?” I stood up to look at my phone screen, but he moved out of the way and held the phone above my head.

  His face was turning a weird shade of red. Almost had a pretty purple hue to it.

  “You okay?” I’d had many years to categorize the many expressions of Titus Jackson and this one wasn’t one I’d ever seen before. “Your nostrils are flaring. Like actually spreading, dude.”

  “I’m gonna kill him,” he growled.

  I gave him my best mom look, the one I’d seen Lucy give Roxy. “That’s a bit extreme, hon. I’m sure he’s just angry and shocked and lashing out.”

  Titus turned that scary face on me. “Don’t defend him, Amelia. He’s an asshole who doesn’t know how to treat women. He doesn’t deserve defending.”

  I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, sorry.” I grabbed the last White Claw—a huge gift considering I’d lived off these babies all day—extending it to Titus like a peace offering. “Want a chick beer?”

  Instead of accepting my magnanimous offering, he slammed my phone down on my desk and headed to the door. “I don’t get you. I really don’t.”

  “What?” I followed him, not at all understanding why he was so upset. Maybe I would have figured it out without an entire day of drinking under my belt, but as it was, he’d have to spell it out for me.

  At the door, he spun back around, ninja-quick, and I skidded to a halt, nearly face planting in his chest for the second time tonight. Maybe if he wasn’t so mad, I could get him to stay and rub my back again. That had felt extra good. Maybe even better than the taste of the single bag of mixed salted nuts I’d consumed today.

  “When the real Amelia is back, let me know.”

  The door slammed shut and he was gone, just the faint trace of his cologne and the burn in my chest from his words to let me know he’d been there at all.

  “Well, shit.” The back of my eyeballs started to sting.

  Why was everybody being so mean to me today? First Lucy, now Titus. And probably Daire if I was ballsy enough to read his response to my breakup text. I frowned. Maybe that’s what got Titus so spun out.

  I marched over to my phone and picked it up, reading Daire’s three responses. The room swayed and a very awful, no-good emotion claimed me. Shame. Humiliation. Devastation.

  Not only was Daire happy we broke up, but he told me in very detailed ways how much I’d sucked as a girlfriend. Oh, and he’d been cheating on me the whole year we’d been together.

  With that response thundering through my brain, I grabbed the offending bottle of vodka and twisted the cap until my hand came away with a blood blister. But I got that fucker open. I was done with my chick beer. I needed something harder. Something to knock me out. Something to take away the memory of those words thrown at me. Something to make me forget how miserable my life had become.

  3

  Titus

  Why’d she have to be so fuckin’ beautiful?

  Like being her friend sixteen long years when I wanted to be so much more, or staying away from her entirely the last month, wasn’t hard enough, the first time I saw her again, she was in a pale pink satin dress that hugged her curves and showed off her breasts. Her dark hair was curled and a little piece was pinned back by some sort of girl magic. Her makeup had been applied by an expert and her eyes sparkled as she looked at Lenora. She looked damn good.

  I swallowed hard and looked away, grinding my teeth and silently apologizing to my dentist. He’d been warning me for years to stop grinding, but he didn’t know that nighttime was the only time I could take out snippets of Amelia and replay them over and over again, knowing I could never have her. Made for tough dreams. Some worn tooth enamel was bound to happen and, really, it was the least of my worries.

  The tie around my neck felt like a collar. Why do couples always plan summer weddings and then expect everyone to dress in suits? When I got married—and yes, I snorted at the idea that it would ever happen—it would either be in winter, or we’d all be in swimsuits at the beach. No need for this straitjacket bullshit.

  The music started and I moved over to take my place in the line forming behind the closed church door. Jayden and Lenora’s big day was finally here. Bain and Lucy stood arm in arm in front of me, canoodling as usual.

  “Jesus,” I muttered. It was enough to make a single guy nauseous.

  “Got something to say, Jackson?” Bain muttered, giving me the side eye. Lucy smacked his arm.

  “Nope, just checking out your wife’s gorgeous ass,” I whispered back, knowing that would piss him right off.

  He went to spin around, but Lucy yanked him back. “Serves you right, Bain. Leave the poor guy alone. He’s gotta walk with Amelia today.”

  Bain visibly shuddered.

  You see, word on the street was even though Amelia had broken up with Daire a month ago, she’d been having a rough time assimilating into the single life again. She’s been on a rampage all over town, and while that wasn’t the reason I’d been avoiding her, it was a nice little side benefit. I’d heard the rumors. She was one wrong look away from flipping tables and burning the whole town down. I was fairly confident the rumors were overblown, but then again, this was Amelia we were talking about. There was nothing normal about her.

  She’d changed the sign out front of the hotel to Women guests only. You male bastards can sleep outside and the owner nearly fired her when he found out about it. Hazel told me she’d had to finally intervene when Amelia grew out her armpit hair in defiance. When it was long enough to braid, Hazel said she’d had enough and bought her a new razor. Last week, she’d disappeared for two days and the girls had been frantic. Turned out she rented a motorcycle, took a trip down the coast by herself, and got a new tattoo. That one had kept me up a few nights wondering where on her gorge
ous body she’d gotten this new ink.

  “Let’s do this bullshit.” Amelia sidled up next to me.

  I stiffened, inhaling her perfume and trying not to react. There was a force field around Amelia. Always had been, but today, it was snapping and dark. Her usual sass had morphed into straight anger, which wasn’t like her.

  “Want to carry some tissues?” I offered her my travel pack.

  She turned her face toward me, and even though she looked as beautiful as an angel, her mouth opened and the devil came out.

  “Do I look like I need a goddamn tissue?”

  I kept my calm and put the pack back in the inside pocket of my suit jacket. Still, she didn’t let up. She sneered and then rolled her eyes. A scoff came next and she finally turned back to stare at the back of Bain’s and Lucy’s heads. Everyone around us had frozen, trying to ride out the terror that was this new Amelia. Maybe everyone else would cower and hope she simmered down, but I for one, was sick of it.

  “What’s your deal?” I asked her, not bothering to whisper. If she was going to act like a misbehaving child, I’d talk to her like one.

  Amelia flipped her hair behind her shoulder and spun back to me, dark eyes snapping. “What’s my deal? I don’t have a deal. You’re the one who’s had a stick up his—”

  “You know if you curse in church, you get hit by lightning, right?” Lucy’s voice cut in.

  “Hmm. It would be a shame to ruin Jayden and Lenora’s wedding like that, wouldn’t it?” Bain said to his wife, loud enough we could all hear. Fuck, he used the dad voice.

  Amelia inhaled, pulled herself up straight, and spun back around, remaining mute the entire rest of the ceremony. She smiled all damn day long, doing all the appropriate things for a bridesmaid, but I could tell it was fake. The smile didn’t meet her eyes or dull the pinch between her eyebrows. Amelia was bottling it all up and who knew when it would finally blow.

  I had a headache from ripping my gaze away from Amelia all damn day long. She was everywhere I looked and it was literally causing me pain to keep a watchful eye out for her, but also not let her catch me looking. The reception was in full swing, the DJ keeping a good mix of songs going that had the dance floor packed. Another hour and I could excuse myself entirely without offending Jayden and Lenora to head home and rip this suit off. I was happy for my friends finding true love, I really was, but I was done with this wedding.