Crushing on My Billionaire Best Friend: A Hot Romantic Comedy

by Jolie Day

  “You’re not wearing your glasses.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Nope.”

  “Or your normal clothes.”

  “Nope.”

  “I didn’t know you had such long… You’re wearing your hair down. I really had no idea…”

  “Oliver, you have great observational skills, and now, you can stop.” She smiled. “You clean up nice yourself, by the way. New suit?”

  “No. I just haven’t worn it in a while. Maybe once before.” I winked at her.

  She threw her head back and laughed, and the outline of her neck, the shape of her jaw, everything about her was beautiful. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to wear it more than twice. The scandal!”

  I rolled my eyes and extended my arm when the elevator doors slid open. She looped hers around mine, and we walked through the lobby toward the door.

  I spat out the address of the club to the driver as we climbed into the backseat of the car. Laney shot shy glances and smiles in my direction as we settled in.

  “I still can’t believe this is actually happening.” She beamed. “I did it. I got in. And now here we are…going out to celebrate.”

  “I can believe it.” I stared directly into her bright green eyes. “I knew you’d get in.”

  She shook her head and turned toward the window, a wave of her hair sweeping across her face. I caught myself staring at her glossy, plump lips as she brushed the strands away from her cheek. How had I not noticed how stunning Laney was before? I mean, yeah, I knew she was gorgeous, but this…it was on a whole different level. Had I been a blind dumbass? Was this even the same girl, my Laney?

  “You should wear your hair like that more often.”

  She shrugged and flipped it over her shoulder. “It’s not that different. Just left it down and styled it a bit.”

  “It’s working.”

  As soon as we arrived, I led her to the front of the line that had already formed in front of the club. “I’ve done some business with the owners here,” I explained to her over my shoulder.

  “Which is code for…?”

  The bouncer inclined his head to both of us before unclasping the red velvet rope to wave us in.

  “For not waiting in line?” she answered her own question.

  “Exactly.” I flashed her a wide grin.

  We stepped into the crowded, noisy bar, and I felt my entire body tense by the way Laney was forced close to me—more than close. Definitely tits. Soft, warm, inviting. Too inviting. Fuck. It made no sense. We’d been close like that before. Hell, I’d seen her tits. Why, all of a sudden, could I feel myself swelling in my pants every time she just brushed against me? Her perfume filled my nostrils, and my whole body was on high alert to her every move.

  I pushed my way to the bar and asked the bartender for shots. A moment later, I slid one of the small glasses into her hand, lifting my own in the air. “Here’s to you, Laney. My dearest friend who just so happens to be a genius and who’s going to cure cancer.”

  “No pressure or anything.” Her cheeks rounded over a playful grin as she tilted her glass to mine. “Here’s to today, us, life, my mom…”

  We clinked the shots together before throwing them back. The moment the burn slid down my throat, I steadied my gaze back on her. “Your mom would be so fucking proud of you right now. You’re doing everything you always swore you would. Not that anybody ever doubted you.”

  “Especially not you.” Her wide green eyes met mine. They glistened with tears, but she was smiling from ear to ear. “Thanks, Oliver. Really.”

  With our eyes locked, all the air seemed to be sucked right out of the room. In that moment, I felt like I might crash right into her—like there was no gravity keeping us apart anymore. I wanted to kiss her—no, I needed to kiss her, but instead, I found myself calling for another round of shots.

  I settled us into a spot at the end of the bar and took a moment to adjust the chair. Laney’s hand brushed down the arm of my suit jacket as I helped her onto her seat. I had to sit the fuck down.

  “How was work?” she asked with her sweet smile.

  “The usual.” I shrugged. “How’s it been back at work? I feel like I haven’t heard you talk about it much.”

  She blew a breath out of the corner of her mouth. “Good. It’s strange to have so much back to normal while all these other things are so different… Like staying with you. Sometimes I still want to head back toward my old apartment at the end of the day.”

  “Any word from your apartment manager?”

  “Just that the renovations are still underway. I’m sure you’ll be glad when I’m out of your hair and you can have your bachelor pad back,” she answered in a half-mocking tone. “Nobody to stop you from walking around naked or whatever kink it is you do when I’m not interrupting all the time.”

  “Actually, I love our movie nights in front of the TV,” I shot back. “You’ve always had a knack for keeping me grounded. Anyway, it doesn’t kill me to put some damn pants on. Wouldn’t want you to get any ideas or anything.” I waggled my eyebrows. “But if you really want to know, I’m not in any hurry to get you out of my hair. I like having you around.”

  I felt a strange sense of dread fall over me, thinking about when the time would come for Laney to move out. I really had gotten used to having her around.

  “Yeah, movie nights have been nice,” she agreed. “And going out like this is cool, too. I guess you’ve always had a knack for getting me out of my shell.”

  “We make a great team. Always have.” I winked.

  Her eyes flashed up at me with warmth. “I think so, too.”

  The music blaring behind us changed, and my ears perked at the sound of the familiar tune. I glanced down at Laney, waiting for it to register. I watched a slow wave wash over her until she giggled and buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. “Ohhh, Oliver…”

  “So, you do remember this?” I smirked, raising a brow.

  “I’d rather not, but yes. Yes, of course I remember.” She shook her head, throwing back a long sip of her drink.

  “What was that? Senior year?”

  “Yes,” she grumbled and cringed. “My dad let you in, and you caught me dancing around to this in my bedroom…like a total spaz.”

  “Something you still enjoy, I guess,” I said, referencing her performance in my kitchen, loose, and playing around like that was one of my favorite sides of her. “But after you hid under your covers in embarrassment and begged me to leave…”

  “Which you wouldn’t,” she noted.

  “And we had the best dance party ever right there in your room,” I reminded her.

  I could still see the vivid picture of us bopping around her room, her grabbing a random hairbrush and stuffed animals as props, me playing air guitar, while we sang and danced.

  “I never realized how big of a dork you could be until that night,” I jabbed.

  She laughed out loud. “Ditto.”

  “Well, why else do you think we get along so well? We’re no different now.” I held my hand out to hers, itching to drag her out onto the dance floor.

  Her eyes widened, and she immediately recoiled. “No. No way. Kitchens and teenage bedrooms are one thing. You know I don’t like dancing in front of other people.”

  “I know. Come on now. Don’t be afraid.”

  She stared back at me with a stern expression, like she had plenty to be afraid of. Laney never did understand how I could be so carefree, not giving a shit about what anybody else thought.

  “I might look stupid, I guess,” she confessed, dropping her shoulders.

  A sly smile spread across my lips as I grabbed her hand, dragging her down from the stool. “Who the fuck cares? You’re about to have a PhD from NYU. So, get the hell out here Dr. Carter, and dance with me. Let’s look stupid together.”

  She reluctantly followed me out to an opening in the crowd. Instinctively, I put my hand on the small of her back and pulled her close enough so she coul
d hear me talk against her ear. “Pretend it’s just you and me in my apartment alone. Forget about everybody else.”

  We were too close, and I felt the rise of heat between us—the gentle part between her lips and the way her eyes sparked, the sudden electricity that seemed to crackle any time our eyes met, or our bodies touched. I moved my hand around her waist, holding her and leading her into a nice dance so she could get comfortable. After a few minutes, she seemed to break out of her shell.

  She tilted her chin up with a mischievous and confident smile. “Challenge accepted.”

  Within moments, she was dancing without a care in the world, and I was moving right along with her. She was owning the dance floor with her moves and that dress. And she said she was afraid of what people might think of her dancing? She had nothing to worry about. Laney was sexy as hell. I remembered Miles calling her “hot” or “sexy” or something like that. Hell, the son of a bitch was right.

  After a few dances, I led her back to the bar. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Do you want me to order another drink?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m fine for now. Thanks.”

  “All right. See you in a few.” I excused myself to the bathroom. The drinks had gotten to me, and I needed to take a piss.

  When I walked out of the bathroom, my blood boiled.

  A guy was at Laney’s side, wearing an expensive suit, sleek purple shirt, and tie. What kind of guy wore bright purple like that? A fucking pimp? He needed a feather cap. He flashed a mouthful of perfect white teeth at her and leaned down to say something in her ear. My chest burned when she smiled back. I swore under my breath when she handed him her phone, likely to exchange numbers. Hearing about her dating was one thing. I could even tolerate the distant memory of a guy she dated in college. Or this Tinder doctor she’d been hooking up with. But watching it? Fuck that! It was a whole other kind of poison, and one I wasn’t the least bit fond of. Hell no. I wasn’t standing for this shit.

  I marched my ass straight toward the bar, intent on laying down the law and letting the dude know Laney was with me, but as soon as he saw me coming, he left in a hurry. Asshole.

  I took my seat and was about to order a shot when Laney interrupted me.

  “Come on, Mr. Humphries. Dance with me.” She grinned.

  I chuckled, sliding down from the stool and placing my hand in hers. “What happened to your friend?”

  She glanced back over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose. “Who?”

  “Purple shirt guy.”

  “His name is Kyle,” she said on a laugh. “He’s a dentist. I told him I wanted to dance the next slow song with you.”

  “Good decision.” I held my hand out to hers and led her back to the dance floor. “Looks like I can’t leave you alone for two seconds.”

  Laney smiled, and it touched me. I’d never seen that look on her face, the way she looked at me. Surely, she had to be used to all kinds of compliments. Had no guy ever told her what a catch she was?

  “Tonight, all dances belong to me,” I rumbled into her ear.

  It felt comfortable and easy. Of course it did. Hadn’t that always been one of the things I loved about her?

  Pulling Laney close, I could hear her breath hitch as she rested her head on my chest and wrapped her arms around my neck. I placed my hands on her hips, leading her through the dance, but I needed her closer, to feel her body pressed to mine. This wasn’t enough. Reaching up, I clasped one of her hands in mine, stepped back, and spun her around. She smiled and gasped as I pulled her flush against me, feeling every delicious curve of her body. Laney hadn’t been expecting it, and that was my intention. I caressed her cheek, and she leaned into my palm, tilting her head up toward me. Our eyes locked. Our lips were inches apart, and I wrapped one arm around her waist, the other tangled in her hair at the base of her neck, leaning in to kiss her. But the song came to an end, Laney’s knee’s buckled, and I steadied her on her feet. She stared at me, her gaze questioning.

  And we snapped to like we were waking up from a dream. But it took us a moment to separate. We stood there like two kids at prom.

  “Ready to go home?” I cleared my throat before I asked the question. “I’ll call us a cab.”

  She nodded and followed me to the bar where I closed out our tab before we left. The cool night air brought a rush of relief from the sweaty, hot dance floor. Within seconds, we heard the loud shrill cackles of a group of drunk bachelorettes stumbling around and slurring their ecstatic hoots and hollers just outside the club’s exit.

  Laney threw her head back in laughter, and it was contagious. And it kept us giggling and joking the entire way back to the apartment.

  15

  Oliver

  Laney and I were still cackling up a storm as we stumbled from the elevator to the apartment door. We weren’t drunk, a bit tipsy at best (her more so than me), but we laughed so hard it made it difficult to catch our breath and walk straight.

  “And then nobody said anything, and Mrs. Mulligan went through the rest of the class with that black streak across her lip!” She howled as she walked into the kitchen. “She looked like you know who!”

  “The bad haircut didn’t help in that regard.” I chuckled.

  Laney opened the cabinet where I kept all the booze and trailed her finger across the bottles until she landed on the Jägermeister. “Ah-ha!”

  “Somebody found my secret stash,” I said. “I rarely drink that shit, but Miles likes it.” I raised a brow as she screwed off the lid and pulled out two shot glasses.

  “Is it your bedtime, lightweight? By all means, you can call it a night if you want. That just means more Jäger for me. I’m not ready to sleep yet, and this bottle isn’t going to drink itself.”

  “Are you challenging me?” I stepped up to the counter.

  Her eyes sparked back at mine with a sly sway of her head. “Maybe I am,” she replied in a deep, enticing voice.

  “Challenge accepted. Pour away.” I waved across the small tumblers.

  The purple liquid trickled into the glasses, and we both threw back a shot. Her hair was wild, tossed over to one side in a disheveled look. There was an ease around her slightly parted, glossy lips, and her eyes glinted with both mischief and contentment.

  “You were quite the vixen out there on the dance floor. Now you’re pouring us shots. I seemed to have stirred up your wild side,” I taunted.

  “You sound so surprised.”

  One strap of her torturously sexy red dress fell from her shoulder. I couldn’t resist reaching across the counter and hooking one finger beneath it to slide it back in place. Her green eyes flashed across my hand as it grazed her skin. Damn. Her skin felt soft and inviting. She liked when I touched her—I could see it in her eyes.

  “Can you blame me?” I asked. “All I’ve ever seen is the Laney I’m constantly having to coax into trouble. Who knew that all this time you’re perfectly capable of getting into trouble all on your own?”

  “Well, maybe Doctor Elaine Carter is a different woman.” She swiped the bottle and tumblers from the counter and breezed her way over to the couch. “Or maybe you just don’t know everything there is to know about me.”

  I plopped down next to her. “Touché. Maybe we can work on that.”

  “Now it sounds like you’re the one challenging me!”

  “Oh, I am.” I poured two more shots. “I’m challenging you to a game of Truth. Remember how to play?”

  She lit up at the prospect. “Like Truth or Dare without the dare?”

  “Yep, no dares, unless you go streaking down the hallway naked. It’d get me a stern talking to from my building’s committee. I don’t need another one of those. And after everything that happened with your apartment, I don’t think your dad could handle any more stress from our late-night drunken prank calls.”

  “While I do think my NYU acceptance eased his worries a little, you’re probably right,” she said with a snicker. “So, who goes first?”

 
“I’ll step up to bat first. Hit me with your best shot.” I tipped my glass toward her and smirked. “No pun intended.”

  “Okay, okay. Let me think.” She grinned, pausing for a moment. “Oh! Okay. I got it. How many women have you slept with?”

  “Oh!” I blew out a long breath and whistled. “We’ll be up all night if I start trying to calculate that one.”

  “I knew it. So, it’s a lot, right? Give me a ballpark figure. Would you say more than twenty?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I nodded.

  “More than fifty?”

  I scratched my chin and lifted my glass in the air, signaling for her to go higher.

  “More than seventy-five?” she shrieked. “But less than one hundred, right?”

  I twisted my face in thought. “I think that’s a fairly accurate guess.”

  “Whew! I always knew you were a lady killer, but damn. Okay, drink up, man whore.”

  We threw back our shots, wincing from the black-liquorish tasting, sweet-as-shit burn, and immediately poured two more. “What about you, virgin? Since you’re untainted by the ‘D,’ how many guys have gone down on you?”

  “Ugh, I can’t tell you after you gave your number. It sounds pathetic.”

  “Uh-uh. No way you can bow out. I answered it. Now you have to.”

  “Fine,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “My number is…one. Joe, last year in high school. Go ahead and talk shit! I know it sounds pitiful.”

  “Absolutely not. You’re just more selective. It’s classy. I like it. I admire it even. Now, drink up.”

  Inside I felt a warm swell of satisfaction with her number. I didn’t like the idea of any random asshole guy off the street like Frank or Purple Shirt guy knowing Laney in that way.

  “Thanks for coddling my ego,” she quipped. “All right, so you’ve slept with a bazillion women. But where did it all begin? Who was your first?”

  The corners of my mouth curled into a grin. “Oh, man. You’re not making this easy on me.”

  “Hey, this game was your idea,” she argued. “Are you saying you can’t take it?”