Alone With the Best Friend (Alone #1)

by Summer Wynter

  Alone With the Best Friend

  By

  Summer Wynter

  Copyright © 2017 by Summer Wynter

  Cover by: Resplendent Media

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains mature scenes and is not meant for those under 18. All characters in the book are over the age of consent and are at least 21 years of age.

  I’m just your normal, everyday woman who can’t get enough out of life. When it comes to writing, I enjoy stories about couples who just can’t say no, even when life says that they should.

  Come get passionate with me and see where my dirty little mind can take you.

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/summerwynter2017/

  Mailing List: http://eepurl.com/cpQOpn

  Melody

  I shouldn’t want him, but when he looks at me that way it brings me to my knees.

  When Jack says he’s bringing his roommate home with him over his college summer break, I didn’t think anything about it. I thought it would be nice for him to have someone to hang out with other than his tired, single mom.

  Then I saw Ethan.

  Ethan

  I know I can’t touch her, but every time she smiles at me I want to back her up against a wall.

  When my roommate Jack asks if I want to ride home with him for the summer break, I had nowhere else to go. My ex had our son, and there’s no family left for me. I figured it’d pass the time and get me free food.

  Then I saw Melody.

  Two people wanting what they cannot, should not, have. What will happen after the one kiss that they both can’t stop?

  Chapter One

  I put the last of the bed linens into the washer and set the temperature control. In a week, my son Jack would be home for the summer and I needed to get the house back in order from the chaos it currently was in. I’d been enjoying my time alone, and the house’s usual rigid system of cleanliness had gone by the wayside in the process.

  Lately I’d been staying up all hours of the night and sleeping until nearly lunch. While I could tell you that I was enjoying fine literature or writing the next Great American Novel, I won’t lie. I’ve been bound to the internet far more than I ever was as a wife or as a single mother. Now that Jack was in college, time was something I had in spades.

  I’d married young. Jack’s father Russell was my high school boyfriend who swore he loved me when he proposed shortly after finding out I was pregnant. We’d married on the courthouse steps a month before he set off for college, leaving me to raise the boy for four years on my own. When college was done, he’d come home for a little while and we’d found a shabby apartment we could afford.

  It was a cycle. He’d come home long enough to realize that raising a child wasn’t for him, and then find an excuse to leave again. When that excuse couldn’t be school, it’d been business meetings and weekend conferences. At the very end of the marriage, after nearly 20 years of thinking it would change, the final excuse had been Jessica, his intern. Today he makes a very healthy living as the CEO of a pharmaceutical company, yet hardly ever touches base to see how his son is. There is no alimony and no child support, leaving me to do what I need to do to put food on the table and write the checks to keep Jack in his first choice college.

  So while I hadn’t been divorced but a few years, it has always felt like I’ve raised Jack alone.

  The high pitched shrill of the dryer alarm signaled me that it was time to finish up. I grabbed the cream colored Egyptian cotton sheets out of the dryer while they were still warm to spread across his old bed. I hadn’t changed a thing in his room, leaving it with the same gaming consoles everywhere. Whenever he came home, he’d retreat here for a while and game all night long, reminding me of the boy he was before graduation.

  I ran my hands toward each corner to smooth out the wrinkles as my cell phone began the short introduction of my favorite Rob Zombie song. Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead? Hey, just because I’m the mom of a college aged son, doesn’t mean I still have to listen to 80’s hair bands.

  I don’t even get a chance to say ‘Hello’ before he’s talking, fast and excited.

  “Hey, Mom, do you care if I bring someone with me?” His voice is meek as if he’s afraid of my answer. The fact that he waited until the very last minute to ask doesn’t escape me.

  “Who is she?” It had to be a girl, there’s no way he’d be acting like this otherwise.

  “It’s not a girl, Mother,” he says, with just a hint of exasperation.

  “Then why are you making it such a big deal?”

  “It’s just Ethan, my roommate. He doesn’t really have a family to go home to and his…,” a pause, just for a moment before he adds, “other plans fell through.”

  “Dear you can invite whomever you’d like. I’ll go fix up the guest room so that you guys have plenty of room. I’ll see you in a week, Muffin.”

  I can literally hear him rolling his eyes at being called ‘Muffin’, an old childhood nickname. “Bye, Mom.”

  I grab another set of sheets, a few pillows, and a comforter from the hall closet and get to work in the guest room. While Jack’s room is on the other side of the house, the guest room is adjacent to the master suite. As I’m tucking in corners and putting pillowcases on the pillows, I can only hope that Jack’s roommate will be quiet here.

  I’ve always been a light sleeper, waking up with the barest hint of sound or movement. Having someone literally a few feet away from my bedroom door for the entire summer sounds like a whole lot of insomnia to me. I can only hope I’m wrong.

  And then something else hits me. The same thing, but in reverse. I’m normally —what’s the nice way to put it?— vocal when I’m having my own personal, private time. Having the house to myself allows me to yell out anything I feel like during release. With Ethan right next door, I’m going to have to temper that.

  Damnit.

  I try to remember anything Jack has said to me about his roommate, but for the life of me can’t remember a thing. Only that he and his longtime girlfriend had split up at the beginning of the semester and that afterward, him and Jack had spent more time together hanging out. A few weekends during that time, they’d also gone out with someone named Cole, who seemed like a good guy because he always had to get back early.

  It was him and Ethan that were best friends, since orientation that first day of college. Cole was rarely talked about and only lately, usually as the source of their plans changing.

  Done with the guest room and now bothered I can’t remember more about the guy my son is bringing home in a week, I go to the kitchen counter and turn on the main house computer. It is safe and secure for anyone to use and has a browser history that will make a priest proud. Needless to say, it is vastly different than my bedroom laptop.

  Chapter Two

  One week later…

  I’ve just enough time to grab a quick shower now that I’m home from the market. The house finally looks like humans live there and I’ve barely an hour before Jack and Ethan arrive. I tried again, unsuccessfully, to see about picking them up at the airport, but he’d have none of that.

 
“Mother, I am perfectly capable of getting a taxi to the house. There’s really no sense in you picking us up.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was actually assuming grownup responsibilities or if he was ashamed of me. The last time he’d seen me before he headed off to UCLA I was twenty pounds heavier and while we Skype frequently he’d only seen me from the neck up. There’s something about your pride and joy packing a suitcase and heading off to college two thousand miles away from you. For me, when faced with that, I decided to devote that free time and extra house space to getting myself in shape. I wasn’t going to just muddle through the rest of my life, I was going to live it to the fullest.

  I slid my hand down the skinny jeans that were a full two sizes smaller than the last time he was here, proud of my new figure. The curves were still there, rounded and full, but everything else was firmer, tighter than before.

  “Okay, fine, you win, just make sure that you two remember to take off your shoes before coming into the house. I just had the carpets shampooed.”

  “No problem, see you soon.” And with that, the connection had clicked off.

  ****

  I did one last look through the house making sure everything was in its place. It had been a long road to get to this point in time. While it wasn’t so bad raising Jack when my parents were alive to watch him while I worked two jobs to afford this house and extras, after their death it was a bit more difficult. I had to leave my jobs and find a company that needed telecommuters. When that didn’t bring in enough to take care of the tuition for UCLA, Jack’s dream school, I relied on side gigs.

  “Side gigs.” I laugh to myself. Jack once had asked about that and I told him that I picked up small jobs from different companies from time to time to bring in extra money. He knew I was a copywriter from ages ago, so he never questioned it. I don’t know what I would have done had he pressed the issue.

  I flip on my laptop and scroll to my schedule, making sure that I had remembered to clear my calendar for the next few days. I wanted things to fall in place for the summer without the worry of a client messaging me. Another perk of all that weight loss was that I was in pretty good demand as a web cam operator. In fact, I was in the top 5 cam girls in the MILF category at the site. I seemed especially popular with one particular viewer, Battleship8. He’d logged in to see me for the past couple of months, always tipping well afterwards.

  I often imagined him and his generosity as a distinguished businessman, perhaps a single father who works late and barely has time to date. Someone who appreciated an older woman and had the money to spend freely on her. There were times when his tips alone could pay the cable bill for the month. In my mind, his silver locks curled around his ear, with stubble peppering his firm jaw.

  Sigh. It didn’t matter what he looked like though, it was his way with words that sent shockwaves through me night after night.

  I never saw the viewers, only their chat log to me. They, in turn, saw all of me, spread out on the special comforter I keep stuffed in the back of the closet that I only used online. In the beginning I had used a mask to try to keep myself partially hidden, afraid that someone I knew would see me. After a while, that feeling went away and I just did my thing. As you get older, you tend to let go a bit more. Besides, if they were tuning into a sex cam show, they really can’t point and judge me for being their cam girl, right?

  It was this side gig that brought in as much as my entire other, more socially accepted, job. Enough to make sure that Jack could stay at UCLA and not have to worry about anything other than getting good grades and not getting into too much trouble.

  I go ahead and wipe another week off the calendar for good measure, making sure that the boys have time to settle in and everything. I could always add it back in later should I need too.

  Chapter Three

  Jack and Ethan arrive just as I slide the casserole and fresh yeast bread into the oven. In about an hour or less, dinner will be on the table and ready to eat. I’m wiping my hands on the flour-covered apron I wear as they come inside.

  “Hey Mom, we’re here,” Jack yells, not expecting me to be there in the kitchen. I didn’t cook much before he left out for school, relying on takeout most nights. Seeing me here in full-on Mom mode probably freaks him out.

  “Hey, honey, how was your trip?” I say, raising my head up to see not only his lanky frame coming into the hall, but the tall dark-haired man behind him. I want to believe I’m not licking my lips, but I wouldn’t place a bet on that.

  Ethan is tall, at least six foot, with dark hair and eyes and a smattering of facial hair that created the perfect stubble. Not too long, not too thin or sparse, the kind where he looks like he’d give your thighs a rug burn just from going down on you.

  “….but thankfully we landed fine at the airport.”

  Shit, I totally didn’t hear a word Jack said to me. And even more concerning, Ethan is staring at me as if I’ve grown a third head. Did I tweeze my brows asymmetrical? Is there something in my teeth? God forbid, is there something in my nose?

  I extend a hand out to him, “It’s good to finally meet you, Ethan.”

  He still has that deer in headlights look to him but nods to me as he shakes my hand.

  For such a gorgeous man, his social skills suck.

  ***

  The boys take their time unloading their suitcases and I prep a large salad for us all to share as something to tide us over until the food is ready. All through slicing the vegetables and putting what salad dressing I have out on the table, Ethan is peering at me with the most quizzical look I’ve ever seen. It’s like a cross between a child holding onto a delicious secret and your best friend debating on telling you something they know you aren’t going to like.

  I get the table set and call them to come eat something as they bolt from Jack’s room. They’re laughing about something that clearly isn’t meant for me, because Jack gets quiet as soon as he’s in the hallway, his face blushing. There is a part of me that wants to know and yet a bigger part that just wants to stay in the dark about it all and have him stay my little boy forever.

  “Come on, boys,” I begin, “I know it isn’t much, but it will keep you from dying before dinnertime.”

  “Looks great to me, Mrs. Fisher,” Ethan says to me, “Let me help you with the salad bowl.” As he walks up behind me, his strong arms wrap around me to grasp the bowl. When his mouth gets right at my ear, he whispers ‘Battleship8’.

  I don’t think I actually turned green, but I felt like I did.

  “You okay, Mom?” Jack asks me, concerned.

  “Oh yes, fine, fine,” I lie, “I just remembered something, that’s all.”

  Chapter Four

  I still don’t know how I managed to make it through the meal, the cleanup afterwards, and retreat to my room without having a major nervous breakdown. Even after I learned my husband had his eye on someone half his age and was leaving me, I’ve ever been more rattled than what has just happened.

  Battleship8. I can still hear his voice, gravelly and raw, whisper it into my ear. If I close my eyes, I can even feel the warmth of his breath. The gnawing sickness that hit me in the beginning keeps intermingling with an overwhelming sense of excitement.

  He is no silver-haired older gentleman, he’s my son’s best friend from college.

  My number one webcam fan is going to be here all summer long. The one that pushed my boundaries, paid extra for special panties I’d worn during a session, and the only one to sext me to the point of orgasm. Battleship8. Ethan. One and the same.

  My mind races with all my options. Number one, come clean to Jack about what I do as my side gig and what I’ve just learned. Honesty is always the best policy right? But that would out Ethan and possibly ruin their friendship. Number two, say nothing and spend the summer in aching longing for him and his touch. A painful choice that keeps Jack from being upset only to the point when the whole thing comes out anyhow. Number three, say nothing and spend the summer in
icy coolness to Ethan and let Jack think his mother is a colossal bitch.

  “Goodnight, Mom,” I hear Jack yell down the hallway.

  “Goodnight, Jack,” I yell back, my voice a little shaky from my thoughts.

  I hear two sets of steps go down the hall, a door close, then one set of steps come back to the entryway between my room and the guest room. The steps pause. For a moment, I wonder if he is there at my door, hand on the knob, ready to come in. God help me, does that make me wet to think about. But then I hear the other door shut, and I audibly exhale in relief. It is relief, right?

  I will myself not to think of some of those conversations we’ve had. In the dark of night, after one or two glasses of wine. Him willing me right to the edge of ecstasy just to make me pause, take a step back, then bring me right to that edge again. He was a master of orgasm denial until he wanted me to come. Hour after hour, until I could barely nap before it was morning.

  I know I have no webcam appointments for another two weeks, but I can’t help but log on. For a while, I’m reading messages that have been left by regulars.

  Gonna miss you!

  I’ll have to watch my taped episodes until you’re live again.

  The standard ones that I always get whenever I take a short vacation. It’s nice to know that I’m missed, I have to grant you that.

  There was a time when I didn’t feel good about myself. Those month after the divorce, I blamed myself for Russell leaving. If only I wore better clothes or better makeup. If only I stayed in the gym longer. If only I were more exciting in bed. If only, if only. I carried all the weight of the divorce on my shoulders.

  Then I stopped all that thinking. I was still catching glances when I went out. I could still hold my own. I held my head up high and I started to push my boundaries far further than I ever thought I would. And now look at me, desperately trying to figure out what was right and wrong about a boy my son’s age coming on to me.

  I’m just fixing to power down when I hear a chime alerting me to a new message in my inbox.