Crushing on My Billionaire Best Friend: A Hot Romantic Comedy

by Jolie Day

  A few seconds later, I forced myself to pull away.

  “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. We shouldn’t…” I shoved him back. “I told you we’re not doing that anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just, seeing you with that douche—”

  “He’s not a douche!” I fired back, burning up with rage. “He’s a perfectly decent guy, which I’d think you’d want for me.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “Really, it’s none of your business who I date. We agreed all this physical stuff between us was over. We’re just friends now. Like it used to be.”

  “No, that’s not what I agreed on,” he said. “I suggested we see where all this leads to. And now, you’re just too scared to face your feelings for me.”

  “What?” My heart pounded and rattled through my body, making me shake. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I tried to hide the trembling in my hands. How dare he accuse me of being scared to face my feelings? I’d become all too familiar with facing down my feelings for him each and every single day. It wasn’t my fault he was too blind to see it. I bit my tongue to keep from laying it all out on the table.

  “You tell me what it means.” He sounded exasperated, and his hair was disheveled like he’d been raking his hands through it all night. “You’re the one who says you want things to be normal. You’re hot, then cold. You avoid me and make it impossible for anything to feel normal. Why don’t you just admit that you’re scared to be around me, because you know you can’t stop yourself from letting it happen again.”

  “Letting what happen again?” I knew it was a mistake as soon as I asked the question.

  He charged forward and moaned, “This.”

  His lips crashed into mine, his body pressing against me—pinning me between him and the kitchen counter. I opened my mouth wider, relishing the sweet relief of his tongue tangling with mine, each playing for dominance. My fingers dug into his shirt, begging for more and pleading with him to stop all at once.

  I could’ve kept going, but then I imagined the next morning when I’d be reminded of the pain, knowing I would never really have him. He’d never feel the same way.

  I finally gathered the strength to pull away from him, quickly sliding myself from under his grip. “This is all just about sex for you!”

  “How could you even say that?”

  “How could I not?” My voice grew shaky and shrill. “I’ve watched you hop from one woman to the next—since high school! Who are you kidding here? We both know you’re just riled up, because for once, I’m not falling at your feet, begging for more. You only want what you can’t have, Oliver. You’ve always been that way.”

  “I’ve never been that way.”

  “Oh, stop it. You’ve always been a risk-taker.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve always been so afraid of life you can’t be bothered to take a risk. Even if it meant something wonderful could come out of it.”

  I shook my head, unable to look at him anymore. Being hit with the harsh cold reality of Oliver running off the moment I opened up to him—what that would do to me was surely not wonderful and not a risk I was willing to take. At least this way, I was getting out with my dignity still intact.

  “I’m going to bed,” I rasped, turning for my bedroom before he had a chance to argue.

  “Laney, wait.”

  I kept going, not letting myself give into him anymore. No matter how badly I wanted to go running back to him, I just couldn’t bring myself to.

  With the door slammed shut behind me, I collapsed against it and slid down to the floor. I wanted to cry and scream all at once. What if everything I’d always wanted really was within reach—if I’d just let go and tell him how much I loved him?

  Flashbacks of high school and all the years after when I watched him parade around with woman after woman—it all swirled around in my head, paralyzing me. If there was any potential for something real between us, it would have happened a long time ago. Even if he didn’t know that that damn three-page letter was from me. And all the trouble around our recent hookups just proved what a terrible, impossible match we were.

  I pulled myself up off the floor and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. I looked better than ever, aside from my smudged makeup.

  Some match.

  A rich, gorgeous, ballsy risk-taker who wasn’t afraid of anything… And a scared, mousy, little science nerd who was afraid of everything.

  I held my head high and reminded myself I was not that same girl in high school anymore.

  I unzipped the dress, letting it fall to the floor, and admired my curves wrapped in the black lace lingerie I was wearing underneath. No more begging and chasing after him or waiting around for him to really see me.

  He’d helped unleash a new woman, and I was not about to let her shrivel up under the weight of this ancient high school crush.

  28

  Oliver

  My feet shifted in place as I fought the urge to go pounding on her bedroom door. For a moment, I was strong enough to resist. But my stubbornness won out and sent me barreling forward. I didn’t believe in going to bed angry.

  I approached her door with my hand in the air, ready to knock. But before I could bang my fist, I heard a soft sniffling sound coming from the other side. I glanced to the crack at the bottom and noticed the shadow—Laney sitting with her back to the door, crying.

  Every ounce of anger faded and was replaced with regret.

  I wanted to burst in and comfort her, but I was upset and knew I needed to cool off. I couldn’t risk saying something that would make things between us even worse. I didn’t want her to hate me.

  See, Laney. I don’t always take the risk, I thought to myself, wondering if she was in there thinking about what a jerk I was. Good luck explaining that one. The notion enraged me all over again and sent me retreating into my own room.

  A cold shower helped take the edge off a bit. When I climbed into bed—I was wide awake, running everything we’d said to each other through my mind over and over again. We’d never fought like that before. Maybe she was right. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake, and we really had ruined everything.

  I rolled over, desperate to escape my racing thoughts with sleep.

  I let a couple of days slip by, making a point to avoid Laney as much as I could. I needed time to clear my head, and she probably needed time to stop hating me. After a long day of work, I met up with Damon at a bar near our office. I was desperate for drinks. I wanted to think about anything other than her. But it wasn’t easy.

  Before, it was simple: I had work and my social life. But everything had changed significantly since Laney had moved in. I’d become a one-woman man, consumed by thoughts of her and only her. Suddenly, the life I’d been living seemed gray without her, now that she’d been the one who’d brought color in with all her adorable quirks. Sure, she wasn’t one of those extroverted girls, but she gave me more.

  She had something about her that always made me feel appreciated—no, it was more than that. Laney had this special spark about her, and a way of making me feel like the king of the world. The way she looked at me. The way she touched me. How she spoke to me. How she never put herself first (that’s why her profession made so much more sense now—to help even more people feel good). How she made sure I woke up with a smile, making me coffee every morning, and even my favorite muffins at times. Laney had thought about other people and bought gifts for them when she’d had the worst day of her life, even after losing everything she owned in a fire. She always put so much thought into giving gifts, writing short or long notes, getting the best cards—anything to make them feel special.

  She was special.

  One of a kind.

  Nobody could even compare to Laney.

  I thought of all the times she tried to tame her frizzy hair and how often she jumped to remove her glasses before she saw me. I’ve been such an
idiot! How could I have been so blind and not seen this gorgeous woman and made her feel how she deserved?

  Fuck. I’d blown everything with Laney. From day one. I’d never be able to look at her the same again, not as just “my best friend.” And hell, I doubted she could, either. I knew I’d already let her down by being too blinded by everything. It was like I’d been wearing some kind of fucking goggles all these years, and somebody finally ripped them off so I could see clearly. That sounded corny, even for me. But it was the truth. I never really saw her for the beauty she was, not in the way she wanted me to. And the signs had been there all along. Yeah, asshole, now you’ve lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Good going, fuck-stick.

  My heart sank when I thought about the night she asked me to be her first. How she’d made herself vulnerable and offered her most precious gift to me. And what did I do? Fuck… Why the hell was I such an idiot? Why didn’t I just make her understand that she was mine and only mine from then on and the rest of our lives? Why hadn’t I insisted that there was so much more between us than just friendship?

  And now she was going out with a loser, when I could be the one by her side, inside her, instead of some motherfucking dentist.

  “How did things turn out after your stalker freak-out the other night?” Damon asked grimly as soon as I sank onto the stool next to him.

  I buried my face in my hands. I wanted to get away from it, but no such luck. “Oh, perfect,” I answered sarcastically. “She came home. I yelled at her. It went just great.”

  “Dude, when are you just going to give it up?” he asked. “You’ve liked that girl since high school.”

  “According to her, all I’ve done since high school is hop from one woman to the next.” I took a swig of my beer as soon as the bartender slid it into my hand.

  “Well, she’s not wrong.” He winced, tilting his head. “Did you ever think maybe that’s why she hasn’t admitted how she feels about you?”

  “Surely she knows it’d be different with her.”

  “Are we still going on about this?” Miles appeared behind us, slapping me on the back. “Come on, man. This broken record shit’s got to stop. Just go tell the woman you love her. Or one of us is going to crack and do it for you.”

  I raised an irritated eyebrow. “Shut up.”

  Miles shrugged like he’d be open to doing just that, but Damon was quick to interject. “He didn’t mean it. Geez. Lighten up.”

  “You’re going to lose her if you don’t make a move. And soon,” Miles told me, and then ordered a beer when the bartender came back.

  “I know,” I said. “I fucking know.”

  “Hey, do you remember when she used to pass all those notes to you from girls back in the day?” Miles asked. “Too bad things aren’t so simple now. A note would make things so much easier.”

  A thought sparked in my brain. I glanced over to the stack of napkins on the edge of the bar. A pen for signing receipts rested in a cup right next to them. I snatched them both and started scribbling.

  “Oh, no,” Miles groaned. “Bro, I was just kidding. Don’t do that shit.”

  “No, it’s perfect,” I insisted as I finished the last of my note and grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair. “One of you cover this beer for me. I gotta run.”

  “Go get her, man!” Damon tipped his glass toward me as I bolted out of the bar.

  I ran out and called a car to take me home, reading the ridiculous napkin letter in my hand as the driver took off. I yelled at him to go faster and tried to calm the nerves bouncing around inside of me. Suddenly, I was filled with anger and regret for letting everything stew between us the past few days. I should have said something sooner. The familiar worry that kept me silent started to stir inside, but I did my best to swallow it down. I was already on course. Backing down now was not an option.

  I saw the light on in Laney’s room the moment I walked in. I almost flung the door right open but skidded to a stop just in time to knock. Barging in on her and that moron certainly wouldn’t help the nerve I’d built up.

  I rapped on the door three times. Knock. Knock. Knock.

  No answer.

  Before knocking again, I got an idea. I looked down to the bottom of the door and slid the napkin underneath.

  Three more knocks.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I chewed the inside of my lip and waited.

  And waited.

  I let out a huge breath when the small corner of the napkin disappeared under the door.

  The door opened a few seconds later.

  “Oliver?” Laney called out. The napkin was still folded in her hand. “I didn’t hear you. What’s going on? Did you slide this under the door?”

  I wanted to tell her to just read it already, but then I noticed the stacks of boxes behind her. “What’s all this?” I pushed past her.

  She was packing up everything.

  “My building manager called today,” she said. “The renovations are complete, so…I’m going home.”

  I looked across the stacks of boxes and then back to her. Fuck.

  “Is that what you want?” My throat closed up. “Babe.”

  29

  Laney

  I watched Oliver glance between the boxes and then back to me—his shoulders dropping, and his eyes filling with desperation.

  “Babe, talk to me,” he pleaded again, wrapping his hands around my shoulders.

  My confusion boiled over, finally pushing me to snap. My throat tightened with burgeoning tears, but I did my best to hold them in.

  “What do you want, Oliver?” I shook my head in exasperation. “I’m not sure why you keep asking what I want, but never really answering that question for yourself.”

  “Does it matter what I want?” he fired back. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship. That kind of closes off all the options.”

  “Well, what we’re doing now isn’t helping much to save our friendship.”

  “Okay, fine. You know what I want? What I really want?” His voice grew desperate, earnest.

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “But don’t freak out. And don’t run off.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I want you to stay.” He reached out and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I never want you to leave. I want to be the only man that you kiss or go on dates with. I want to be the only man that sleeps with you. I want you to be in my bed, every night. I want all of it. I want you, Laney.”

  My chin quivered, and I was dangerously close to crying. Seeing his glossy brown eyes searching mine and hearing him say everything I’d always dreamed of him saying since I was fourteen… It was too much.

  It all swirled together, snatching up my breath.

  I collapsed onto the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands to cry. The napkin he slid under my door was still balled up in my hands, and I nearly wiped it across my face. But just as I lifted it up, I caught the sight of ink scribbled across it.

  I unfolded it slowly and read the words: I’m madly in love with you, Laney.

  “What’s this?” I sobbed, growing still despite sniffling. “Did you write this?”

  He knelt in front of me, wrapping his hands around mine. “I’m sorry. It’s stupid. I just thought it’d make it easier to… Ah, dammit, Laney. I’m not good at stuff like this. You were right about what you said. But then this—”

  “This?” I stared at him, full of hope.

  Was this really happening?

  Could Oliver really, truly be in love with me? I was dizzy, and my eyes kept reading and rereading his words. Part of me was too afraid to believe it and wondered if I was dreaming, and the other part was overwhelmed with happiness I’d never experienced.

  It was so enormous and shattering that my heart began to beat so quickly that I thought I might faint or die and go to heaven.

  “I thought it was just an accident. What started happening between us
.” His voice was low and raspy. “But maybe deep down I knew what I was doing all along. I love you.”

  “Oh, Oliver…”

  “I kept trying to block the bigger picture, but the more I had of you the more I wanted. I want you to stay. I don’t want us to have to avoid each other because we might sleep together again. I want to sleep with you again. Every day. Multiple times, if necessary. I want us to keep going. I don’t want us to end.”

  My heart leapt from my chest, reaching for him. I wanted all of that, too, but saying it out loud felt like I was betraying a secret I’d been cradling for so long. All those years I’d spent trying to keep the words stuffed deep inside—but with him sitting in front of me, bearing his heart, they all threatened to come spilling out.

  But I knew once I said them, there would be no taking them back. I would be so vulnerable to him, and completely at his mercy.

  “I don’t know what to say, Oliver,” I said, swiping a finger under my wet eyes.

  “Say that you want me, too. That you want to stay here with me.” He softly grabbed my face with both of his hands. “Don’t be afraid. If that’s how you feel, Beautiful. Please just say it. I want to hear it. I need to hear it.” He waited, pleading with me through his eyes. The air in the room was thick and heavy, filled with our hot, anxious breaths. “Come on, I’m out on a ledge here. Don’t leave me hanging.” He smiled.

  A smile of my own cracked through my tears with a broken, sobbing laugh. “Oliver Humphries, I’ve never once left you hanging. And you know it.”

  His throat rolled with a hard swallow. “So…what do you say?”

  I stared into his big brown eyes, caressing the sides of his slicked-back sandy-blond hair. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

  “Thank God,” he murmured.

  His eyes closed with a huge sigh of relief as he nestled his face into my neck, hugging me tight. He pressed his lips against the shell of my ear. “Babe, what’s taken you so long?” he asked, “I’ve been dying.” Then, without allowing me to answer (because I couldn’t breathe!), he worked around to my neck and up again. We lingered and relished the feeling before his tongue finally swept inside my mouth. We kissed softly, as if it were the first time our lips had ever touched.