I bought the open-concept townhome a year ago. My parents provided the down payment after I graduated from college, but I’m responsible for everything else. The fluffy white carpet feels comforting against my bare feet as I move through the room. The interior is nearly monochrome—mainly black and white with pops of color spread along the home. There’s also a lack of patterns—all the pillows, furniture, and décor stick to solid colors.
It’s a one-bedroom—what my parents told Robby and me they’d provide each of us until we needed something larger. I think it was their plan to prevent us from having roommates. My father has made it clear that he only sees them as distractions—even though the man apparently doesn’t consider throwing events and sipping on expensive alcohol with his flavor of the month isn’t.
I step out of my dress when I land in my bedroom and am slipping on a lace teddy when Georgia calls.
“How was the big date?” she asks as soon as I answer.
“It was not a date,” I reply, pulling down the comforter and fluffing out my pillow.
“Fine. How was your fake date?”
“It was fun.”
“Is he there with you now?”
“Um, no. Home all alone.”
Unfortunately.
Had Silas not made the whole I want us to be friends speech, there was a possibility I’d have asked him to come in. Not even for sex, just to hang out for a while longer.
“Did he try to come in for a nightcap?”
“Surprisingly, no.” I head toward the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my eighteen-step skincare routine. “He said he no longer wants to sleep with me and instead wants to be my friend.”
“Hmm …” She pauses, thinking. “He’d be a nice addition to our friend group. I like him, and Cohen seems to think he’s a good guy.”
I shrug. “Fine with me.”
“Grace has Finn. You’ll have Silas. It’s time for me to find myself a guy bestie.”
“You have your brother.”
“Eh, so not the same.” She goes quiet for a moment, and her voice lowers. “Noah, buddy, I told you, it’s past your bedtime.” She sighs. “I have to figure out a way to bribe the kid back to bed. Call me tomorrow, okay? We can do lunch and chat. Love ya.”
“Love you too.” I end the call after hearing her tell Noah he can have a candy bar if he promises not to tell his dad.
A half hour later, I’m back in my bedroom and plugging my phone into the charger. As I slip into the chilly sheets, my phone beeps with a text.
Silas: I enjoyed our fake date. Good night, my little devil.
Smiling wide, I immediately reply.
Me: Thank you for coming, my little fake date.
His response is just as quick.
Silas: I’d prefer a better nickname than that boring-ass one.
Me: MINE IS THE DEVIL!
Silas: Devil suits you. Fake Date isn’t flattering enough for me. We’re going to be so much more than that. Brainstorm tonight and let me know in the morning. I just wanted to say good night.
Me: Good night … my soon-to-be nicknamed friend.
Silas: *kissy face emoji*
This is something unexpected.
I didn’t think this would happen.
When I got ready for the event tonight, I thought it could go one of three ways.
Silas wouldn’t show.
It’d end up in disaster.
He’d try to sleep with me at the end of the night.
None of those happened.
Instead, it only turned into so much more.
It made me want to know more about this man, give him more of me, and have a few more fake dates.
I slap a hand over my forehead.
This man might ruin my hard-ass persona I have going on here.
He also might ruin me.
Chapter Nine
Silas
Two Years Later
“Hey there, big shot,” Lola shouts over the music, pressing her lips to my cheek and stopping at my table. “This place is packed.”
I grin, pride beaming through me, and kiss the top of her hair. “The turnout is amazing.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I squeeze her side. She’s my biggest cheerleader and the support system I never knew I needed. The night we met forever changed my life for the better, and I can’t imagine not having her around. It’d be a boring and depressed life without Lola.
Cohen finally got his dream—owning a bar. He and Archer, a guy who worked with us, partnered up to start Twisted Fox—a small-town bar in Anchor Ridge, Iowa. He worked his ass off to get the place ready. The girls helped with the design and decorating. I volunteered to kick off the place with a night to be remembered grand opening.
I enjoy bartending, but I love throwing events more. I told the guys I’d bartend part-time at Twisted Fox, so I could be involved with everyone. They immediately offered Finn the bouncer position, and he gladly accepted.
Twisted Fox might be smaller than what I’m used to, but I put in more work with the opening than I have with large clubs with thousands of partygoers. I have friends in high places connections, and it’s easy for me to ask influencers to post where they’re hanging out for the night. They post, and the people will follow, hoping for their chance to see the influencers and to also hang out where the cool people do. Social media is the key to marketing these days.
What was once an old diner has been remodeled. There’s a large bar, TVs on every wall, and sports memorabilia Cohen picked up on the days he went to the flea market. It’s something he and Noah like to do together.
Lola squeezes my arm. “I’m going to go tell the guys congrats. This is so exciting!”
I raise a brow. “Don’t act like you didn’t play a large part.”
She spent hours and sleepless nights with Grace and Georgia here. That’s something I’ve loved since I slid into being in this group of friends. They are die-hard ride or dies. If you need something, they’re there. If someone needs help, they’ll spend every minute doing it. It’s an entire network of people who you know will always have your back.
“Dude, is that your girlfriend?” Eric, a guy recently drafted into the NBA, asks. His question is directed toward me, but his eyes are on Lola as she makes her way through the crowd, swinging her hips with every step.
“Nah,” I reply, shaking my head. “Best friend.”
Eric’s teammate shakes his head. “How can you be best friends with someone that hot and not want more?”
It’s a frequent question sent my way. Lola is gorgeous—exactly what drew me to her. And the more we become friends, the more beautiful she gets to me. Even if she doesn’t try, eyes follow her in desire everywhere we go. Just like I made sure the bar’s opening was perfect, Lola made sure she looked fucking perfect to celebrate it.
A short dress that flares out at her thighs shows off her toned tan legs. Her black hair is down but clipped back on each side, keeping it out of her eyes.
I rub my chin. “I don’t date.”
“Not even her?” Eric asks, gripping his beer bottle around the neck. “Man, I say that, too, but I’d break that rule in a heartbeat for her.”