My Best Friend’s Girl
Glenna Maynard
Copyright © 2019 My Best Friend’s Girl Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Dedication
For those who believe timing is everything and for lovers of angsty love triangles.
To Dawn, Jenna, and Michelle this one is for you.
She’s my best friend’s girl but she’s meant to be mine.
Conleigh Meyers is the last girl I should be making a move on. She’s my best friend’s girl and our new roommate. I try to stay away from her but it’s impossible with her room across the hall from mine and her prancing around the apartment in her ridiculous socks that I can’t keep my hands off. I try to ignore my attraction to her, but I can’t, and I don’t want to.
*Previously published as The Stealing Conleigh Duet*
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
About Glenna
Available Now
Part 1
Chapter 1
Conleigh
2 ½ years ago
“Shots! We need shots. We’re college girls now!” Bailey screams, slapping a ten-dollar bill down on the bar.
“You got ID?” The bartender questions. His blue eyes laugh at us as though he knows we aren’t old enough. His muscles flex as he pops the cap off a bottle of beer. His smile is warm, friendly—cute in that charming, I’ll take you home for a one-night stand kind of way. Pure trouble. The kind of man I need to steer clear of.
Before Bailey can sulk in defeat, the guy next to her says, “It’s cool, Tom. They’re with me.”
Turning her attention from the cute bartender, Bailey bellows, “Well, hello there tall, bearded, and sexy,” shooting him a flirty smile.
“You look barely legal,” he tells her.
“Legal enough,” she fires back.
He throws his head back with a chuckle. “I’ll give you that one.”
I look at his piercing grey eyes, so grey they almost appear silver. I can’t help but find this guy attractive. He’s tall with wide shoulders and his smile exudes confidence. Not over confident but bordering on cocky for sure. I am almost jealous of the attention he is paying to Bailey, but she’s a blonde bombshell and I would expect no less. She is always the center of attention anywhere we go. Curves in all the right places, knows exactly how to get her way, and uses it to her advantage and at times, mine too.
The bartender sits our shots in front of us and my eyes widen as he lights them on fire. I blow the flickering flame out and knock it back. My face twists, expecting a terrible aftertaste, but instead a sweet creamy taste coats my tongue.
“Better than you expected,” another handsome guy says, joining the guy talking to Bailey. His green eyes zero in on me. His sandy blond hair seeming as if he just came from the barber it’s styled so perfectly. “I’m Ezra.” He holds his hand out to me with a gentle smile on his face. He isn’t as tall as his friend, not quite so domineering; he has that boy next door vibe. The kind of guy who brought the teacher an apple every day and would carry your books for you vibe.
“Conleigh.” I smile back.
Bailey is busy chatting with the other guy leaving me on my own with Ezra.
“First time here?”
“Yeah, Bailey insisted.” I hook my thumb in her direction, and she is already making out with the guy she just met and right at the bar too. I don’t know whether to shake my head or laugh.
“Holden doesn’t waste any time,” Ezra tells me, seeming a bit embarrassed. He rocks back on the balls of his shoes and fidgets with his keys. He’s dressed as though he’s been at a business meeting, button down shirt pushed up at the sleeves, as though he is unwinding after a long day.
I shrug. “Bailey doesn’t either, apparently.”
“You want to dance or something?”
“I’m a terrible dancer,” I confide.
His eyes light up. “Me too, so we will be evenly matched.” He grins and for some reason, I follow him, and we proceed to make idiots of ourselves, both of us having two left feet.
“What year are you, freshmen?” He queries, his curious eyes holding a twinkle of amusement.
“Is it that obvious?” I laugh. Then I step on his foot and he howls. A dimple pops out in his right cheek. It’s cute.
“Step aside, E. Allow me to show her how it’s done,” Holden says, winking at me.
Ezra moves aside, and Holden grabs my hip bones and pulls me into his body. “Relax, let the beat of the music guide you.”
Easily, I get lost in the music and him. There is something about Holden. He has charisma, but he was just lip locked with my bestie. I feel her eyes on us as this guy holds me close.
“What are you doing? Are you trying to piss my friend off?”
“I’m dancing. If she gets upset about it, she has issues. We just met.”
“She’s staring a hole through me and you were just kissing her.” I push my palms against his chest which only results in him grabbing my hand with his and putting his other hand on my butt.
“Maybe I want to kiss you too,” he flirts, and I blush.
Looking away from him, I see Bailey talking to his friend, Ezra and by the speed her hands are gesturing she can’t be saying anything good.
“Listen, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I don’t do leftovers.”
“You wound me, but I get it.” He steps back and takes a bow. “Let’s play pool. Me and your girlfriend against you and Ezra.”
I shrug and follow him to our friends.
Ezra grins at me and I find his boyish grin endearing.
“Was showing your girl here what it feels like to dance with a real man.” Holden punches Ezra and winks at me.
Bailey laughs but I can tell she is still upset.
I don’t know why she is so mad. We only met these guys like twenty minutes ago. It isn’t like I am trying to step in and steal him away from her. Sure, he’s twenty shades of sexy—all man with the beard that graces his face, while Ezra pales in comparison but he seems closer to my age.
Holden—based off our brief encounter reminds me of the sort of man
a girl like me could lose herself in and get her heart broken by. I don’t want heartache. I’d rather guard my heart and my panties. Because the way Holden keeps looking at me, I’d surely lose them fast with him.
The night moves quickly and Holden has turned his charm back on Bailey while Ezra has kept an easy conversation moving between us. As I suspected he is around two years older than me, where Holden is closer to five years older.
I don’t know why my eyes keep leaving Ezra and checking in on Bailey and this Holden guy, but every few minutes his steely gaze finds mine and he semi-smiles. By the end of the night however, Ezra is giving me a ride to the dorms and Bailey is walking down the street, following Holden home.
“We should hangout sometime, maybe you can step on my feet again,” he teases.
Wagging my finger in his face I say, “I warned you.”
“Yeah, you did.” He grabs my finger and leans toward me. “Would it be too forward if I kissed you right now.”
Blush creeps up my cheeks. I bet Bailey and Holden are doing a lot more than kissing. Not that I care or should care. “I’d be offended if you didn’t even try,” I tell him, trying to get my mind off Holden and what kissing him would be like.
Ezra’s kiss is soft and sweet. My mind instantly goes to those steely grey eyes that belong to Holden though, and I know Holden’s kiss would be anything but sweet.
Chapter 2
Conleigh
Present Day
I was seven years old the last time I hugged my father. I can still remember the way his goatee tickled my nose when he kissed my forehead as he promised he’d walk me to school the next morning. “I’ll see you in the morning, caterpillar. I love you.” He called me caterpillar, because he said one day I would blossom into a beautiful butterfly. When he’d take me on his weekends we’d always go to the butterfly garden. I always thought it was so magical.
His large fingers tugged on my dark hair as he smiled down at me. I looked up into his hazel eyes, getting lost in the flecks of green and gold. The My Little Pony nightgown I was wearing dragged on the floor, brushing against my purple carpet. It was a size too big, but I loved that spaghetti strapped gown because he gave it to me.
I clung to his belt loop with my small pointer finger curled around the worn denim. He pried my finger loose with a lopsided grin. I scowled, but then I smiled as he tickled my rib. “Daddy has to go.”
“I don’t want you to go. Please, Daddy, please stay, just a bit longer.” I pouted my bottom lip and held my breath.
My mom sighed from the doorway to my bedroom. I didn’t spare her a glance. I knew the exhausted expression she’d be wearing, it was the only one she wore when he came around. Her patience with my father had ran out when I was a baby. They were practically babies themselves when they had me. They were barely juniors in high school when I was born. With government assistance and help from my mom’s parents they graduated high school and were married briefly. My dad worked delivering pizzas, taking any job he could to support us, while my mom went to nursing school. They didn’t know what love was, even though they attempted to pretend at first, or so my mom has told me, the few times I have gotten any conversation out of her where my real dad is concerned. In her eyes, he’s been dead since the moment he received his sentence.
“Five more minutes,” he conceded, picking me up and putting me to bed. Kneeling on the floor next to my twin bed, he stroked his fingers across my forehead, forcing my eyes shut. “Go to bed, my sweet girl.”
My eyes fluttered as he continued to wave his hand over my eyes, whispering promises that were broken even before they left his lips. I can recall the low, heated whispers as my mom walked him to the door, then the slamming of that door jarring me from my near sleep.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bailey questions as I shrug my red sweater over my head, exchanging it for my black cable knit one instead.
“Yeah, I promised, and, why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugs, her blonde hair falling behind her shoulder with the motion. Her baby blues soften as she semi-smiles. “I just worry about how this will affect you.”
“Okay, Mom.” I shake my head. I have been hounded to death by mother about this very topic for three months now. “I’m fine. It will be fine. It’s only one day.”
She snorts. “One day at a prison.” Her face scrunches and she rolls her eyes.
“Bails, I know you love me, but I am doing this for me. I need this. I need…I don’t know——closure.” I sit on the bed with my legs crisscrossed. Gathering my brown hair in my hands, I twist it into a bun and secure it with a hair-band.
“Okay, I’ll back off.” She holds her hands up, her lips twitching with unspoken words. “Does Ezra know you’re doing this though?”
Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. “You know how he feels about my dad. It isn’t a fight worth having. Besides, he won’t be back from his trip until late. It will be over by then and I won’t even have to mention it to him.” I shrug it off, but deep down it does bother me that Ezra isn’t more supportive of my being in contact with my father. I suppose as my boyfriend it is in his nature to be overly protective of me, much like my mom is, but I need him to be on my side with this. This is my first real chance to sit down and spend the day with my dad. They call it A Walk with God. It’s an experimental program where inmates who have earned good behavior get one day where their children can come and spend the day with them. It’s mainly for smaller kids, but my dad was one of the few who qualified, only twenty of fifteen hundred as a matter of fact.
Bailey, my childhood best friend and former roommate sighs, but doesn’t press me. We were roommates our first two years of college and until I moved in with my boyfriend, Ezra. We’ve been friends long enough now that she knows when I decide on something, that’s it. I don’t go back. A lot of planning has gone into this day and my dad has worked hard to maintain his good behavior, so we can share this day.
Over the years, we have talked through letters and briefly over the phone, but I’ve never went for visitation, until today. My dad didn’t want me to see him locked up and my mom agreed that it wouldn’t be good for me. What changed my dad’s mind? I’m not sure. Maybe time. So much time has passed since I’ve seen his face in person or felt the warmth of his embrace, the calming feeling that a girl only gets from her dad. The peace that quiets any storm. At least that’s how I remember him making me feel…like he was a hero who would always protect me. That was all lost to me when I was seven though. One choice changed both our lives, forever.
Bailey stands at my closet, fingering through my wardrobe, deciding on an outfit to steal from me. She has work today, I do too, but I called and said I was sick. I wouldn’t miss a day with my dad for anything.
Leaning over the edge of my bed, I grab my boots from the floor and lace my them up over my skinny jeans.
Bailey turns her attention back on me after grabbing my grey tunic and leggings. “Just be careful, and text me later.”
“I will.” I groan and sling my purse over my shoulder, following her out the door.
“Later, bitch,” she teases as she gets in her car.
Outside, I rush in hopes of grabbing a quick coffee from the Starbucks across the street. I am in desperate need of caffeine.
I’m standing in line waiting for my name to be called for my order when a call comes through from my mom. I sigh and answer knowing she won’t stop calling until I do anyway. “Good morning,” I say, already dreading the speech that is sure to come.
“Good morning, sweetheart. What are you up to today?”
As if she has forgotten.
“Getting a coffee,” I tell her just as my name is called.
“That’s nice. Are you on your way to class?”
She knows I’m not, today is Saturday, but part of me wants to lie and tell her what she wants to hear.
I don’t do that though. I get my drink and head back across the street to my car, as I talk. “Mom,” I say o
n a sigh. “You know what today is. You know where I am going and why.”
“I just don’t want him to hurt you or let you down.”
“He already did that when he went to prison thirteen years ago. It’s a little late to be concerned.” I take a sip of my latte careful not to burn my tongue.
“I didn’t call to argue, Conleigh Nicole. I’m your mother and I worry. Prisons are dangerous and you’re a pretty young girl.”
“I’ll be fine. There’s going to be plenty of people around. Lots of small children. There will only be twenty inmates present, including my dad. Stop being such a mom,” I joke, attempting to lighten her mood.
“It’s my job,” she says, her tone soft.
“I’m getting in my car. I’ll text or something when it’s over.”
“No, you’ll come for dinner and tell me about it. Okay?”
“Tomorrow,” I concede.
“Sunday, family dinner, don’t forget,” she confirms and tells me she loves me and to be safe for the millionth time. My mom wants the best for me, but we’ve never been what I would call close. Sure, she has provided me a good life, but I don’t go telling her my secrets or asking her for any real advice.
“Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
After surviving her call, I start my car and spend a moment enjoying my coffee while my car warms up.
My cell phone rings again. A text from Ezra.
Honeypie: Have a great day at work. I can’t wait to see you.
Snookems: You too! When does your flight land? Mom wants me over for Sunday dinner.
Honeypie: Late. I’ll probably crash as soon as I get in. You should go see your mom.
Ugh! Didn’t he just say he couldn’t wait to see me?
Snookems: Driving, talk to you later xx
Yeah, we totally have cheesy nicknames for one another.
I’ve loved Ezra Joseph since my freshmen year of college. Technically, two years and counting. He graduated last semester and he’s working at his father’s corporate advertising firm. He’s the lowest man on the ladder and the boss’s son, therefore he’s working overtime to prove his worth not only to his father but to his peers. He doesn’t want them seeing his position as a handout from daddy, but it also means we are seeing less and less of each other. Take right now for instance, he’s in Miami working on a jingle for a fast-food chain that is growing in popularity in the South. Ezra is good at what he does, and I’m so proud of him, but at the same time, I hate it, because he’s moving up quicker in the company than he has let on. Even his group of friends is changing. He goes for drinks with the guys from work now instead of hanging out with Holden and the guys from his frat days. That guy, that version of Ezra, the funny guy I fell in love with seems to have disappeared and been replaced with Mr. Career. I know I shouldn’t be jealous of his job, but a big part of me is.
My Best Friend's Girl Page 1
