Crushing on My Billionaire Best Friend: A Hot Romantic Comedy

by Jolie Day

  Beer. Maybe coffee. Whatever.

  Suzi’s Tipsy Motor Shack in Providence was a dark, smokey, hole in the wall, with neon beer signs covering the walls. It was an infamous biker spot with all the sprawling countryside roads surrounding it. Other bikers like us would spend their Saturday afternoons taking in the view and feeling the wind in their hair, then rest up at Suzi’s before driving back into the city. Most of them got sloppy-ass drunk and headed back home around noon the next day.

  I was smacked in the face with smoke the moment I stepped inside, finding Damon and Miles settled in our usual spot. There were clusters of smaller groups, laughing together or eyeing women dancing in their booths. A wall of slot machines, a couple pool tables, and a few places for playing cards—Suzi’s pretty much had everything a place like this needed. I walked over to the guys at our table in the back where they’d just started playing darts and getting ready to order food.

  “Hey, bro, nice of you to make it in.” Miles smirked. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”

  “Ready for a junk-punch?” I grinned, slinging my jacket over the back of my chair. “Damon.” I nodded.

  “Hey, man. So, what’ll it be?” But I didn’t get a chance to answer.

  Our waitress, Babs, strolled right over with her signature beehive cherry-red hair. Her voice was thick and raspy from years of smoking, but she was always a sweetheart.

  “What can I get for my favorite boys today?” she croaked, popping her pink chewing gum as she filled our mugs up with beer.

  “Oh, Babs.” Miles leaned back in his chair with a wink. “Don’t try and fool me. I know you’re in here telling all the guys they’re your favorites.”

  “Then maybe just don’t listen to me talk to the other guys in here. Whatchya don’t know won’t hurtchya!” she teased with a wheezy laugh.

  “We’ll have the usual. Thanks.” Damon handed her our stack of menus, which he’d already collected from the table.

  “Comin’ right up!”

  Babs knew me all too well and left another cup sitting on the table just in case I wanted some coffee later. I stared into my mug of beer and couldn’t help but think how the light-tan shade resembled Laney’s skin. What the fuck? Where the hell did that even come from? I sounded like a fucking moron. I was ordering a dark-amber Ale. This was bullshit.

  “What’s gotten into you, man?” Miles interrupted me, yet again.

  “Ah, nothing.” I shook my head and tried to act normal, but they kept staring at me. I knew they wouldn’t let me off the hook. Guessed I’d be talking to my brother after all. Fucking perfect. “Well, okay. Something might have happened last night. And it’s got me all fucked up in the head.”

  Damon sat straight up and leaned toward me from across the table. “Did you get her pregnant?”

  “Do you need an attorney?” Miles asked.

  “No, nothing like that.” I chuckled, trying to feel relieved. But the truth felt even more gut-wrenching than any legal trouble. At least anything like that could theoretically be sorted out with money. But things with Laney—not so simple. “You know how Laney’s been staying at my place while her building’s under renovation?”

  Miles slammed down his beer mug. “I knew it. I knew it!” He turned to Damon. “Dude, didn’t I tell you it’d only be a matter of time?”

  I blinked. “You told him what would be a matter of time?”

  “You fucked her!” Miles said, loud as hell.

  Damon and I both hissed, trying to get him to quiet the fuck down.

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” I growled.

  “Like what?” He held his hands up defensively. “Did you, or didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. But Jesus, don’t say it like that. She’s my friend, and…I don’t know. Just don’t say it like that, man. She’s not like one of my hookups. This is Laney.”

  Miles tilted his head toward Damon, raising his brows like they knew something I didn’t. They were probably thinking it wasn’t like talking about fucking women had ever bothered me before, but saying that about Laney felt different. It didn’t feel right.

  “What we did last night,” I sighed, spearing my fingers through my hair, “it was more than just fucking. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Miles just chuckled, leaving Damon to be the one to reply, “So, now what? You’ve been friends for so long. Does this make it an insta-relationship?”

  “No!” I shot back too quickly. “Absolutely not. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You know, there’s a gray area between fucking and making love—or making love and being in love.” I rubbed the back of my neck. I didn’t even know if what I’d said made sense. “At least I think there is. Anyway, she got fucking weird when I saw her this morning. Awkward. So, maybe things’ll just go back to the way they were.” I shrugged. “Hell if I know what goes through a woman’s mind.”

  Miles smirked. “Maybe you didn’t hit it like she wanted.”

  “You know what? Fuck you.”

  “Hey, chill, bro. Take it easy.”

  “Whatever, man.”

  And this was why I didn’t want to talk to Miles… Fucker.

  But what I’d said didn’t seem right. Because I knew Laney well enough that if I really thought about it, I could usually guess what she was thinking. Maybe this time I’d read her signals all wrong? But something else was up, something she was hiding. I just needed to figure it out. Fuck. I’d never been in a situation like this before, and honestly, I didn’t know how to act.

  “Do you want things to go back to the way they were?” Damon was the planner, never wanting to leave loose ends. “Just friends? No more sex?”

  I nodded, weighing my options.

  Friends? Absolutely. Non-negotiable. We’d been friends too many years to let anything come between us.

  Sex? Thinking back on last night, it wasn’t something I really wanted to lose, either. Far from it. Hard no. I’d race home and fuck her again if she wanted me to.

  Dammit. I sounded like a sappy motherfucker. But as far as where that left us? I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face that yet.

  “You’ve got to talk to her,” Damon demanded as Babs returned with our plates.

  “That’s the answer to ninety-nine percent of your troubles with women right there,” she chimed in. “But it also seems to be the thing you boys suck at the most.”

  I gave her a tight smile. “Thanks, Babs.”

  The moment she was gone, Miles couldn’t wait to throw in his two cents. “Talking about it is the least sexy thing you could do. Women like strong and silent types. They like reading our minds. It keeps them guessing, or they’ll get bored. It’s simple, bro.”

  Damon cut his eyes over to him. “You’ve never stayed with a woman long enough for her to have a chance to get bored.”

  “Yeah, so? That’s how I live my life.” He shrugged. “And I thought that’s how my brother was, too. But…crossing that line with a friend?” He shook his head. “I would not want to be in your shoes, bro. Too fucking complicated.”

  “No shit,” I groaned. “But…here I am.”

  “Yeah, fucked in the head,” Miles told me with a smirk, stating the obvious.

  “Maybe you’re right, Damon. Maybe I just need to try and talk to her again. I mean, we talk about everything else.”

  “That’s why I don’t sign up for female friendships unless it’s ‘friends with bens’ only, or hit it and quit it,” Miles added. “Otherwise, it gets too fucking messy if you try to add that shit later. Nobody’s got time for that fucking drama.”

  “It’s not a business contract,” Damon argued before turning back to me. “Anyway, so you talk to her… What are you going to say if you don’t know what you want out of it?”

  I raked my hand down my face. He had a point. The thought of being in a relationship hadn’t crossed my mind. But Laney and I were already so close. The sex had been fucking amazing. Even though we’d accidentally already crossed that line, and she hadn’t admitted to
wanting to do it again. But hell, she’d given me her virginity—asked me to take it—but I wasn’t about to tell the guys that.

  I had this sneaking suspicion she was either lying to me or lying to herself.

  Maybe both.

  But what if she wasn’t lying? What if she didn’t want me?

  “I say you talk and have one more hot night together, hit it real good, then forget all about it.” Miles waved his hand with a shit-eating grin. He was such an asshole.

  “Huh?” Damon stared at him like he was crazy. “Why one more night? That’s just going to make things worse.”

  “The first time they fucked”—Miles looked at me and shrugged—“Dude, calling a spade a spade. Anyway, it wasn’t planned. They can fuck again, get it out of their system, knowing it’s their last time and then really move on.” He sat back with another damn smirk and took a swig of his beer.

  “What the fuck?” Damon glared at him and shook his head. “Dude.”

  “Or…I could just let things happen, you know, see where it goes from there.” I took a drink of my beer. “We have to talk eventually. We live in the same fucking house.” The words made sense. A hell of a lot more sense than Miles did. But then again, his idea did leave room for one more night of those lips, her tits, that ass… My dick pressed against my fly just thinking about it.

  “Whatever you think’s best.”

  “All right, enough talking about Laney.”

  We finished our food—not playing one game of darts as planned—making sure to tip Babs well like we always did, and got back on our bikes.

  20

  Oliver

  The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time we got back into the city. I took a deep breath to brace myself before walking into the apartment, just in case Laney was home. Just act casual. Like nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen again.

  I slid the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door slowly.

  I’d prepared myself for the possibility of running into Laney when I walked in, but not literally. The moment I stepped inside, I was hit with the blur of a body—and what felt like soft breasts—crashing against my chest.

  Looking down, I saw Laney’s stunned face staring up at me, with her purse, phone, and keys clenched in her hands. Her big bright-green eyes cut through me like a knife, followed by those pink, kissable lips. I felt like I could lean down right then and taste her all over again. All my resolve was shattered in an instant.

  She tensed up and steadied herself back on her feet, flashing an awkward smile. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry about that. Didn’t see you. I was just heading out.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I nodded. “Where ya headed?” That’s a thing I would’ve asked before we slept together, right? A totally innocent, friendly question.

  “To my dad’s. He invited me over for dinner,” she explained, seeming only slightly more at ease than she had that morning. “I haven’t seen him since everything happened with my apartment, and you know how he gets. Plus, with the PhD thing, he wanted to celebrate with me.”

  “Cool.” My head kept nodding incessantly as an awkward silence fell between us. God, what was I, twelve? “Well, all right. Uh, have a good time. Tell him I said hi.”

  “Cool,” she echoed back. There was an odd shuffle between us as she slipped past me, her breasts brushing against my chest, sending another signal to my dick. But just as she reached the doorway, I stopped her. “Hey, do you want me to come?”

  The prospect of seeing her dad after what I’d done to her innocent body the night before sounded awful. But the promise of us acting like good old friends again was exactly what we needed.

  “Sure, yeah,” she said, but her expression was unreadable.

  “Really?” I asked, surprised she’d agreed.

  “Yeah. That’s actually a good idea. If it’s okay with you, tag along.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t okay with it,” I told her with a wink.

  She smirked, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. I knew that bashful smile, and it gave her away. She really wasn’t sure if she was okay with it or not, but she, like me, was grasping for straws in clearing the air between us.

  “I should change.” I glanced down at the T-shirt and blue jeans I’d worn for the ride today.

  “No, it’s fine. Just a casual dinner. The three of us.” She shrugged. “No big deal.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been out riding in it and probably smell. Give me a few to clean up and change.”

  “All right.” Laney walked to the kitchen and took a seat. “I’ll just wait here. Hurry up, Princess.”

  “Ha! I’ve got your princess.” I chuckled and headed to my room. Well, she was joking with me. That was a good start.

  In my bathroom, I took the quickest shower known to man, and dressed in a navy button-down shirt and dark jeans. Boots in hand, I walked out to greet Laney in the kitchen. “Quick enough for you?”

  She eyed what I was wearing. “I guess so. If you’re going to wear that.” She tried to hide her smirk. “Those shoes, though.”

  Staring at her, I remembered the day I’d taken her to the driving range and made her change her pretty pink heels. Paybacks… Ha! “Would you rather I wear something pink, ’cause that’s not happening.”

  Laney burst out laughing and stood from the table. “Get your shoes on, Sweat Stain.”

  “Ah, there it is, my favorite term of endearment.” I shook my head and did as she said. “Nerdy Birdy.”

  I smiled and followed her out the door.

  The elevator ride down was silent, but not as silent as the long, tortuous drive to her dad’s place just outside the city. It seemed our playful banter had shifted again. I opted for one of my drivers to take us when I remembered how dinners at her dad’s usually involved several bottles of wine. And he would never let me leave with his precious baby girl in my car after we had a few drinks. We’d have to call a cab. I was not about to sleep at his place with everything that was going on between us.

  Every time I glanced over at her in the darkness of the backseat, I racked my brain for something to say. But as much as I wanted nothing to have changed, it was too late. Now when I looked at her, all I could think to do was compliment her or talk to her the way I would any other woman I was interested in. Unless Laney initiated the conversation. How fucked up was that? She’d started our usual teasing back and forth in the kitchen before we left—and I had to admit, I loved it—but now I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. I was fucked. I could only hope things would settle back to “our normal” over dinner.

  She smiled at me awkwardly as we approached the doorstep of her father’s two-story suburban home—the same house she’d grown up in. I remembered it well from high school. Mr. Carter answered within seconds, like he’d been waiting for us by the door.

  He immediately scooped Laney into his arms for a big bear hug. His body towered over hers at well over six feet. The years had packed a lot onto his gut, but his legs were skinny and long as ever.

  “Oh, my baby girl.” He grinned and kissed her hair, like they hadn’t seen each other for years. But I knew it couldn’t have been more than a month. “I’ve been worried sick about you. You look thinner. Do you get enough to eat?”

  “I’m fine, Dad,” she groaned, prying herself from his arms.

  He turned to me with his warm smile, red cheeks, and salt-and-peppered hair. “Oliver, is it ever good to see you.” He pulled me in for a hug, too, patting my shoulders.

  “Good to see you as well, Mr. Carter.”

  “Oh, none of that. You’re family. You know to call me Mark.” He patted my shoulder again before ushering us inside. “Since we’re celebrating, I put a bottle of champagne on ice. But my bar’s always stocked. I don’t drink much these days unless I’m having company over, which doesn’t seem to happen often.” He shot Laney an accusing stare.

  “Dad, come on. You know I visit as often as I can. I’m busy with work, and you’re forty-f
ive minutes outside the city.”

  “She is a workaholic.” I slid my hands in my pockets. “I had to beg her just to take a few days off work after the fire.”

  Her eyes grew wide as she glared at me, begging me to stop talking. But Mark knew exactly what I was talking about.

  “I believe it. She’s always been that way.” He chuckled. “Gosh, Oliver, I just can’t thank you enough for taking such good care of my baby girl.”

  There it was. I almost choked on my saliva. Yup. I needed a drink. Or three.

  Laney cleared her throat, her cheeks glowing bright pink. “So, Dad! How’s dinner coming along? Need help with anything?”

  “You know I always do. Your mother was the better cook. Come with me into the kitchen. Oliver, the champagne’s on the table, but there’s a bottle of bourbon right over there. Help yourself. Make yourself at home. You know the drill.”

  Laney flashed her eyes at me over her shoulder just before they vanished behind the swinging doors into the kitchen. It had to be strange for her, having me around under the circumstances. Normally, she’d drag me along to visit her dad so we could laugh about him behind his back—in a mildly annoyed, but mostly adoring sort of way. I was like her refuge from his predictable, overprotective ways. But now her refuge had been infiltrated by all the lingering feelings from the night before.

  I went back to hoping that dinner would help and poured myself a glass of bourbon, before roaming the entry hallway to admire the pictures of Laney when she was little. I’d seen them a hundred times, but they still never failed to make me smile. There were even a few of us together.

  I glanced over each one, reminding myself how important it was to make things right between us—even if it meant never being able to sleep with her again. She was practically like family to me, just as her father had said.