by Bella Jewel
I walk out, grab my purse and phone, and then head out to my car.
The entire drive over, butterflies scurry around in my belly.
I hope I’m not awkward. I’m not good with new people on a good day. I say all the wrong things, make weird jokes, and am generally just weird. What if he is turned off by my personality, but he has to pretend to be nice because he’s already committed to being my best friend? I shake my head, stopping myself. I’m over analysing this. I’m jumping well ahead of myself and there is no reason to.
This feels right.
I don’t know why, I can’t explain it, but somewhere, deep down in my heart it honestly feels like we were meant to meet each other and I’m going to go with that. For once, I’m not going to fight what the universe presents. I’m not going to try and make things go my own way, I’m just going to let this one play out how it’s supposed to.
I arrive at Roman’s house only a couple of minutes later, the joys of living nearby. I nervously climb out of my car and walk up to his front gate. I glance around. He has a nice house, it’s really tidy and clean. Strange for a guy. They’re usually terrible at these things. I open the gate and walk around the side of the white brick house.
He’s sitting at a table on his patio, it’s a gorgeous table, made of a stunning cut of wood. I immediately like it, and a smile breaks out over my face. He looks up when he hears me and a smile breaks out over his face, too. His brown eyes get light, and I know straight away that regardless of how weird this is, he’s absolutely a genuine person. I can see it in him. There isn’t a single creepy thing about him.
“Hey,” I say, walking closer.
“Hey,” he says, standing and grabbing me a chair. “Sit.”
I sit down and stare at him, feeling a little awkward, but strangely at home. It almost feels like I’ve known him my whole life. There is something about him, it seems familiar somehow. It’s a comfort that usually comes after years of being with someone, or knowing someone. Yet, I feel it with him after less than a week.
“How are you?” I ask, crossing my legs and leaning my elbows on the table.
“Good, you?”
I grin. “This is totally awkward, right?”
He laughs. “I can be a bit shy. Sorry.”
“So can I, believe it or not.”
He snorts, and I roll my eyes. “I doubt it.”
“It’s the truth. I’m actually freaking the hell out inside right now.”
He grins and his eyes light up. I wonder how many people have noticed that before? It’s the first thing I notice. His eyes talk, in a big way. I can nearly read everything he’s thinking, just by studying those eyes.
They are nice eyes.
Gorgeous.
“Nice top,” he says, dropping his gaze to my shirt and then sliding it back up again. “It looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” I say, squirming.
“Want a beer?”
“Yes, please.”
He gets up and fetches us both a beer, then he sits back down.
“So, considering we’re besties now,” I say, my voice still a little shaky from my nerves. “I think we totally need to ask twenty questions. You know, considering you could be a serial killer and I wouldn’t know.”
He laughs. “All right, fuck, go easy on me, woman.”
I grin. “I think we have to do it. I mean, you could be anyone. I could be anyone. I could be a stalker, for all you know.”
He raises his brows. “I thought I saw you outside my window last night, but I was thinking maybe I was imagining things.”
I chuckle. “Oh, my god, dickhead. I wasn’t outside your window. I was inside your closet.”
He laughs, and God, it’s a nice sound. I like his voice. There is something comforting and yet incredibly sexy about it.
“Okay, hit me with this twenty questions crap.”
I raise my brows and sip my beer. “Oh, crap now, is it? Your new best friend could be anyone, are you willing to risk that?”
He cocks a brow.
I grin.
“Okay, let’s skip the twenty questions and you just tell me something about yourself.”
He sips his beer and studies me. “I like cooking.”
I press a hand to my mouth and do a happy little squeal. “Oh, my god, are you serious?”
He grins. “Yep.”
“Me too! I’m a good cook. I love cooking.”
He straightens and puts his beer down. “Oh, it’s on. I can cook better than you, woman.”
My mouth drops open. “Is that a challenge? Because I’ll kick your ass.”
“Oh it’s on,” he cocks a brow. “This is going to be hilarious.”
“Why, because you’ll go down crying?”
He grins. “Challenge accepted then. We’ll see who ends up crying, and it won’t be me, princess.”
I cross my arms. “You’re going down. Prepare yourself.”
We both laugh and something inside me eases, something deep down in my soul softens just a little. Something feels better. And I realise in that exact moment what we were put together for.
We were put together to heal each other.
To fix each other.
~*~*~*~
“Tell me about this woman,” I say, swallowing another sip of beer.
Roman turns towards me and crooks a finger, indicating that I shuffle my chair closer. I do, scooting closer until we’re facing each other. He smells incredible, again. Whoever this ex bitch is, she’s missing out. He smells good enough to lick. I inwardly laugh at that thought, because it sounds totally creepy, even in my own head.
“I don’t really do emotions and shit,” he says, studying me.
The way he studies me, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life. His eyes penetrate me, like he can see every thought and emotion in my head. His eyes express everything. They’re soft and warm. They’re also hurting.
“We don’t need to do emotions and shit, but I’m your new Bestie, it’s like, my job to make you feel better.”
“Okay,” he says, sitting back in his chair.
He has a tattoo on his arm. I glance at it, and realise it’s a Harley Davidson tattoo. It starts on his forearm and winds up nearly to his shoulder. It’s a beautiful tattoo, intricate and detailed. It suits him. I move my eyes back to his face, trying to distract myself from openly staring at his bicep. He has great muscles, in fact, he’s got a great build.
“I’ll start. How long were you with her?”
He takes a sip of his beer before answering. “About three and a half years.”
“Wow, that’s a good amount of time.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “But about two of those she lived somewhere else.”
Long distance.
Interesting.
“Why is that?” I ask, crossing my legs and leaning back in my chair.
“She got a job somewhere else and decided to take it.”
I try to stop my body from jerking, because ... what? She chose a job over the person she was supposed to love? She picked a career ... over him? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for chasing your dreams but when you’re in a relationship, you fight. That’s what you’re supposed to do. You try, at the very least, to figure out a way.
“She just left?” I say, trying not to sound judgy, but dammit, I feel judgy.
I could never leave someone I loved.
No job in the world could replace that.
None.
“Well, she wanted the job and she really didn’t like it here, so it made sense.”
“That didn’t upset you?”
He shrugs. “Nah, not really.”
He says that, but there is something in his eyes, something behind his stare, it’s something that makes him feel unworthy. He might not admit it, but somewhere, deep down, her not choosing him had to plant a seed of doubt that he wasn’t worth staying for. If only he could see he is totally worth staying for, and I don’t even know hi
m that well.
“Oh,” I say, shifting. “So you did long distance for over two years? Didn’t that suck?”
“Yeah, it did. I like alone time, so it wasn’t so bad, but yeah ... sometimes it sucked.”
“How often did you see her?”
“Maybe once every three months.”
Once. Every. Three. Months.
I can’t even wrap my head around that. An entire relationship based on phone conversations and text messages alone. I mean, don’t get me wrong, hats off to him for being able to do it, but how much can you truly know about a person after only living with them for such a short amount of time? There is no way he could have known the real person. It takes years to truly learn everything about someone.
“Wow,” I finally answer. “That sucks.”
“Yeah, it did.”
“So, did you see it coming, the break up?”
He shrugs and the pain on his face, God, I don’t know if he knows I can see it, but I can. And all I want to do is find this woman and kick her fair in the twat.
“Kind of,” he answers. “She got distant with the messages and calls. I knew something was up. I asked her one day if she was going to break up with me and she kind of just said, yeah, sorry.”
Yeah. Sorry.
Anger bubbles in my chest.
What kind of horrible person ...
“That’s really awful,” I say, trying not to let my disgust show.
“Yeah, it gets worse,” he says, drinking more of his beer. “She basically blocked me, as you know, but when she told me she was seeing someone else, she did it the day I went back to work. Not only that, I was about to start nightshift, so I was relying on sleep to get me through my shift at work.”
Oh, my god.
What a horrible, horrible human being.
“She told you she was seeing someone else, knowing you needed that sleep to work?”
He nods.
“And she did it ... over text message?”
“She does everything over text message,” he mutters. “I couldn’t even get a fuckin’ phone call. Imagine how hard it was to try and sleep after that. I was throwing back sleeping pills like there was no tomorrow.”
Seriously. That’s terrible.
My heart literally breaks for this man. He gave his entire heart and soul to a person that can’t even give him the common decency to call him and tell him that she has moved onto another man. That fact that she could even move onto another man so quickly makes me question her.
“You’re a woman, do you think she was seeing him before she left me?”
I glance at him, and God, the hope in his eyes makes me want to scream. I know what he wants me to say, he wants me to say no way would she do that, but the truth is, deep down, I don’t see that she could meet someone and move on in a matter of weeks after leaving someone, unless she was talking to that man before she left Roman.
“I’m not sure,” I say, opting with the easiest answer for both of us. “I don’t know her and the situation, but it sounds like she moved on fairly quickly.”
He nods and drinks more beer. “She’s so selfish. You know the worst part? When I first met her, I had a gut feeling. I felt like something wasn’t right. I ignored that feeling, and I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have.”
No.
You should never ignore your gut. Not ever. It is always, always right.
I had gut feelings towards Michael, too. If I had listened to those, I might not be suffering now, either.
“Yeah, your gut usually always tells you what’s right and wrong.”
“Yeah,” he says, studying me. “How random is our meeting?”
I smile. “You know what’s funny? I was literally having the worst day of my life when I ran into you that day. I was so broken. So hurt. I didn’t think I could get through. When you asked if I wanted to be besties, I honestly thought it was crazy, but now I’m starting to think there is a reason we met.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice low, “I was in a really bad place, too. I swear only a few days earlier I asked for something to come along and make it easier, and then you showed up.”
“Do you think we were meant to help each other?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I do.”
I grin.
He grins back.
I thought it was weird at first, but now it’s clear as day.
I just made a new Bestie.
CHAPTER 5
“What a dick!” Roman says, sitting so close to me our legs are touching.
“I know, right!” I mutter. “Dickface is a total dick. I swear, what a waste of my time. I hate that I love him. I really do. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“I can’t believe he said that stuff to you, worse, I can’t believe he can be so cold about it.”
“Yeah,” I huff. “And then we have the opposite end of the scale with your ex. You’re fighting so hard and she doesn’t give a crap. God, the things I’d do to have someone fight for me like that. I wish she could see how lucky she is.”
“She won’t,” he grunts. “Because she’s a selfish person.”
“Yep, so is he.”
“Maybe he should move near her, and they can be selfish together.”
I laugh. “Yeah, let’s see how that works out for them.”
“I still can’t believe he said you only wanted him for sex,” Roman says, grinning, showing that cute dimple in his cheek.
“I know. What man do you know complains about having a woman throw themselves at him?”
Roman shrugs. “Fucks me, but he’s an idiot. Sounds like he was the one doing the wrong thing and he’s just shifting the blame to you.”
“Yeah, well, fuck him.”
“Fuck him,” he agrees.
“Fuck them both.”
“Yeah.” He raises his glass and we clink beers. “Fuck them both.”
We both burst out laughing again, and it feels good. The ache in my chest eases a little more with every passing second. The pain in his eyes shifts, and the smile on his face is genuine. If I was ever made to do something, I think it was to help Roman. Or maybe it was him who was supposed to help me. Hell, maybe we were just meant to help each other.
“So, you have any siblings?” he asks.
I nod, running my finger over the condensation on the beer. “Yeah, a sister. She’s great. What about you?”
“Two sisters. One of them practically raised me when my mom passed away. She’s a fair bit older than me.”
“Your mom passed?” I say softly, my heart aching.
He nods. “Yeah. I was fairly young.”
“I’m so sorry. It sounds like your sister did an amazing thing, then?”
He smiles, and it’s warm. “She’s a good woman, hey. She’d help anyone.”
“I already like her.”
“Yeah, she was good to my other sister and I.”
I study him. “Is your other sister older too?”
“Only by a year. We have a different dad.”
“Oh,” I say, nodding in understanding. “Right.”
“What about you?”
“My dad runs the Jokers’ Wrath MC, if that much isn’t already obvious.”
His brows shoot up. “Yeah, I knew that, but it’s still pretty impressive. Do you like being part of a club?”
I shrug. “Yes and no. I mean, I can’t complain, they’d do anything for me, but it can be ... overwhelming.”
“Because they’re so protective?”
I nod. “Yep, it can get a bit much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“They as scary as they look?”
I chuckle. “Yep.”
He grins. “Nice one.”
“Anyway,” I say, standing, “I should really get going. I have to work tomorrow afternoon, and this beer tastes way too good.”
He stands. “Let me call you a cab to get home, I’ll drop your car in the morning.”
“Thanks, that’ll be awesome.”
> We both walk out to the front of his house and wait for the cab he dials. I lean against the fence, and he stands next to me. I can smell him. He smells incredible. Our arms touch and something passes over me, a familiarity I can’t quite pinpoint. I could swear I’ve known him forever.
“Do you want to come for a drive with me tomorrow?” he asks, turning and studying me.
“Yeah, where are you going?”
“I own a bit of land out of town, I just wanted to check in on it. I can show you around. Have you ever shot a gun?”
I shake my head. “My dad used to try and get both my sister and I to learn how to shoot, but being raised in the club, it was something I had seen so much of I just didn’t want to learn.”
“I’ll show you. It’s fun!”
My heart swells.
I smile. “Okay.”
“I’ll come pick you up in the morning,” he says when my cab arrives. “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”
Our eyes meet.
Genuine warmth.
“Me too,” I say, sliding into the car. “’Night, Bestie.”
“Goodnight.”
As the cab pulls away, I glance out the back window.
Yes.
Whoever put us together, they most definitely had a reason.
~*~*~*~
R – Morning.
I glance with blurry eyes at the text message that just came through on my phone. I smile and groggily respond. Roman messages me every morning to make sure I’m okay. I like waking up and knowing there will be a message from him. It’s a nice feeling to have.
M – Don’t you sleep?
R – Lol. Not really. How did you sleep?
M – Pretty good. And I’m not hungover, winner.
R – Nice. You keen for today still?
M – Absolutely!
R – Cool. I’ll come past and get you soon.
M – Okay.
I climb out of bed and plod to the shower, turning it on as hot as I can handle before climbing in. I wash my hair quickly and then stand, soaking the water in for a few minutes before getting out and drying off. What do I wear? I open my closet and stare at the clothes. I end up going with a pair of black shorts and a black tee. Simple, yet not over the top considering we’re shooting a gun.
