Page 48
Story: Three Grumpy Groomsmen
We eat without talking. We’re very comfortable being quiet together after our years of friendship, and I am struck by how much I like just being with her.
But it does feel different between us at the moment. We’ve never talked about sex like this. We’ve never been in the same room together while having orgasms. At the hands of other people.
And I really want to do it again. And I really want to know what she’s thinking.
And I really need to tell her how I feel about her.
We make small talk about getting on the road, how far we’re going to drive today, if we think the guys are awake yet.
Our waitress brings our check, along with a paper bag with two burritos, and a drink holder with two paper cups of coffee. She tells us there’s also cream, sugar, and plastic stirrers in the bottom of the bag.
I pay, rolling my eyes inwardly about buying breakfast for two fucking millionaires, but I do find some satisfaction in it being greasy diner food.
As we approach the car, Ivy laughs. “Here, you should carry the coffee.” She starts to hand me the drink carrier.
I frown. “Why?”
“Your boyfriend will like it if you bring him coffee,” she says with a grin.
My boyfriend. She just referred to Harrison as my boyfriend.
I stop walking. She takes two steps before she realizes I’ve stopped. She turns back. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something,” I say, realizing this is the moment.
“Okay.“ She frowns, clearly realizing from my serious expression and tone that I’m not joking around.
“We have never been single at the same time,” I tell her. “Every time I’m single, you’ve been seeing someone. Every time you’ve been single, I’ve been with someone. Ever since we first met.”
Her brow furrows as if she’s thinking about this. She nods. “I guess that’s true.”
“Now, we’re both single, but we’re kind of on the verge of possible relationships again. With Harrison and Ford.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen with Ford,” she says.
“If you want something to happen with him, it will,” I tell her. She needs to know that. I need her to know that. “I think he’s had feelings for you for a while. And there’s very clear chemistry between you. He’s being a good guy right now because you just had a breakup. But the ball’s in your court. And I know you really like him.” I take a breath. “He’d be good for you.”
She takes a step back toward me. “And you have big feelings for Harrison. Are you admitting that to me finally?”
I pull in a breath and blow it out. “Fuck. Yes, fine, I do have feelings for Harrison.”
She is not surprised by my admission. “But they live in South Carolina,” she points out.
“Yes. It’s a little complicated with both of them, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about. This isn’t about them.”
“Okay.”
I take a step toward her. Now we’re directly in front of one another. I study her beautiful face. It’s so familiar it makes my chest ache. I’ve looked at her a million times and wished that I could reach up and cup her cheek, tuck her hair behind her ear, drag my thumb along her jaw, lean in and kiss her.
Fuck it.
Why can’t I do those things now?
She’s my best friend. I love her. She’s single. I’m single. And I might not ever have another chance.
I drop the bag with the two burritos to the ground, reach up and take her face in both hands and pull her close.
“Ivy.”
But it does feel different between us at the moment. We’ve never talked about sex like this. We’ve never been in the same room together while having orgasms. At the hands of other people.
And I really want to do it again. And I really want to know what she’s thinking.
And I really need to tell her how I feel about her.
We make small talk about getting on the road, how far we’re going to drive today, if we think the guys are awake yet.
Our waitress brings our check, along with a paper bag with two burritos, and a drink holder with two paper cups of coffee. She tells us there’s also cream, sugar, and plastic stirrers in the bottom of the bag.
I pay, rolling my eyes inwardly about buying breakfast for two fucking millionaires, but I do find some satisfaction in it being greasy diner food.
As we approach the car, Ivy laughs. “Here, you should carry the coffee.” She starts to hand me the drink carrier.
I frown. “Why?”
“Your boyfriend will like it if you bring him coffee,” she says with a grin.
My boyfriend. She just referred to Harrison as my boyfriend.
I stop walking. She takes two steps before she realizes I’ve stopped. She turns back. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something,” I say, realizing this is the moment.
“Okay.“ She frowns, clearly realizing from my serious expression and tone that I’m not joking around.
“We have never been single at the same time,” I tell her. “Every time I’m single, you’ve been seeing someone. Every time you’ve been single, I’ve been with someone. Ever since we first met.”
Her brow furrows as if she’s thinking about this. She nods. “I guess that’s true.”
“Now, we’re both single, but we’re kind of on the verge of possible relationships again. With Harrison and Ford.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen with Ford,” she says.
“If you want something to happen with him, it will,” I tell her. She needs to know that. I need her to know that. “I think he’s had feelings for you for a while. And there’s very clear chemistry between you. He’s being a good guy right now because you just had a breakup. But the ball’s in your court. And I know you really like him.” I take a breath. “He’d be good for you.”
She takes a step back toward me. “And you have big feelings for Harrison. Are you admitting that to me finally?”
I pull in a breath and blow it out. “Fuck. Yes, fine, I do have feelings for Harrison.”
She is not surprised by my admission. “But they live in South Carolina,” she points out.
“Yes. It’s a little complicated with both of them, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about. This isn’t about them.”
“Okay.”
I take a step toward her. Now we’re directly in front of one another. I study her beautiful face. It’s so familiar it makes my chest ache. I’ve looked at her a million times and wished that I could reach up and cup her cheek, tuck her hair behind her ear, drag my thumb along her jaw, lean in and kiss her.
Fuck it.
Why can’t I do those things now?
She’s my best friend. I love her. She’s single. I’m single. And I might not ever have another chance.
I drop the bag with the two burritos to the ground, reach up and take her face in both hands and pull her close.
“Ivy.”
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