Prologue
—Leo—
There I was…
Sitting on her fucking swing in the middle of the night, freezing my balls off. It was October, and it was already cold in Tennessee. There I sat for the last hour, waiting.
For her.
We’d spent half our lives on this very swing set, me pushing her, talking about nothing… and everything.
That was our friendship.
Our dynamic.
Our relationship.
We were friends—best friends.
It was easy.
Simple.
Comfortable.
Like Donna and David, Cory and Topanga, Monica and Chandler—I don’t know why I was comparing our friendship to a bunch of 90’s chick flick shows but here we were. She made me watch them all on Hulu.
Fuck my life.
She was my neighbor for as long as I could remember. The person I counted on to be there for me, aside from my other three best friends who were more like family too. The difference between her and them…
She had tits.
An ass.
A pussy I wanted to have sit on my face.
I know, I know, so very vulgar. But hey, that was me. I was a guy, a dude, I scratched my balls and belched on command. I was a man who said and did what he wanted. No questions asked.
I didn’t do long term.
I didn’t commit.
I didn’t fall in love.
I hooked up.
I messed around.
I plowed my hose into any garden that needed a good weeding.
To put it in laymen’s terms, I fucked.
A lot.
I enjoyed hooking up. I was damn good at it, and my reputation preceded me. In fact, my big dick was the talk of the town. Big dick Leo, it was what everyone knew me as. Not really, but a guy could dream. Don’t shit on my parade, okay? This was my story and in my story my cock was king.
Mila saw who I was, how I was. It was never a problem or an issue, more of an eye roll, and a shake of her head.
She accepted me.
Hell, she even helped me score chicks and seal the deal sometimes. She was the best wing woman, better than my boys. Shit, our setup went hand-in-hand. I helped her score dick, get laid, go on dates.
We had a system.
An understanding.
An unspoken arrangement.
We were there for each other, through thick and thin. Nothing could break our tight ass bond.
At least I thought so.
Everything was fine.
Perfect.
No drama.
No bullshit.
Just Leo and Mila.
Mila and Leo.
Until she started dating one of my boys. Yes, one of the three best friends I just spoke about. He asked me for permission, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t mine. I didn’t claim her.
We were just best friends. However, a guy and a girl couldn’t just be close without emotions getting involved, right?
Jealousy.
Possessiveness.
Mine.
Yeah, I felt all of that. For the first time in my life, Mila wasn’t merely a girl I trusted and hung out with on a regular basis.
She had become…
The woman I was in love with.
I was ready to break the almighty Playboy Pact.
The one I created, stood by, and lived since I was sixteen years old. For the last six years of my life, it was my code.
My allegiance.
It represented loyalty to my other three best friends to stay single and never fall in love.
It was my idea.
Brilliant fucking idea that was!
To form unity.
A bond that could never be broken. A connection so strong that no girl could ever come in between us.
God, I sound like a fucking pussy.
In order to explain, I was going to have to go back to the beginning. The very beginning that fateful night all those years ago, the night that would change the course of our lives and have me sitting on a swing set in the middle of the night, my balls now completely numb from sitting on this cold ass swing.
Waiting…
For her.
Chapter 1
—Mila—
Six years ago
“How’s he doing?” I asked my best friend Leo, sitting next to him on the couch, which looked more like a bed, in his cabin while he played Halo on Xbox.
Him and his father spent months building this cabin on their land. They owned twenty acres filled with beautiful trees and greenery. Their home was massive, a full staff was needed just to keep up with the landscaping. Leo’s dad was the best general contractor in our small town of Monteagle, Tennessee. Everyone knew who Mountainside Building belonged to. He had more work than he knew what to do with, and jobs were piling up on a daily basis.
This was why he was hardly ever around, and I was pretty sure this was why he appeased Leo and built this cabin for him to have a place we could all hang out. We were on the other end of his parent’s land. We could literally do anything and they’d never know. Leo was an only child and he was spoiled because of it.
We called it a treehouse, given it was surrounded by tons of trees. It was bigger than a treehouse but still kind of built like one. It was about six hundred and fifty square feet. When you walked in, you felt the vintage vibes Leo wanted. He had an appreciation for the retro era. The cabin was a big open room and the kitchen was to the left from the front door. Vintage turquoise metal cabinets and an island shaped like an aircraft wing that Leo pulled inspiration from a 1950’s plane was what caught your attention first. There was a full-sized stove and oven, mid-sized refrigerator, and microwave. The kitchen was fully stocked with everything we’d ever need, from pots and pans to dishes and silverware.
The living room was in the middle of the open space and it was just as colorful as the kitchen with wood walls, colorful decorations, and accents. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree in the Hawkins genes, Leo had an eye for building like his father, grandfather, and great grandfather before him. He came from a long line of carpenters. A flat-screen TV was above the gas fireplace and the couch was a day bed that converted into a queen-sized mattress with a coffee table in between the couch and television.
To the right of the front door, there was a bathroom and a bedroom next to it that had its own flat screen TV and queen-sized bed which would be the hook-up room I was sure. This place would definitely be a party pad.
One of my favorite spots in the treehouse was the ladder that was to the right of the television. There was a small nook area above with a bed and window that overlooked the forest that engulfed the cabin. The glass doors that led to the porch, hot tub, and lower deck was another one of my favorite places. It was smack dab in between the bedroom and living room, you could once again see the woods that were just as scenic as the treehouse itself.
Leo built a firepit with five green lounge chairs to host bonfires and make s’mores. It felt like you were camping when you went outside. Beside it was a swing he said was for me. I had a jungle gym we grew up playing on, built off my back porch, and Leo spent hours pushing me on those swings.
It was our thing.
“His parents are getting a divorce, Lala. That’s like a swift kick in the balls.”
He’d been calling me Lala since we were in diapers together. He couldn’t pronounce Mila when we were babies and Lala stuck.
“Yeah…” I sighed. “I feel bad for him.”