His Best Friend's Sister - Page 9

“The man can’t get enough of you,” Melissa said a while later. It was the fifth time she’d pointed out something along those lines.

And the fifth time I shook my head, brushing it off. “He’s not flirting with me, Melissa.”

I knew it was a lie. As much as I knew it would have been a lie if I said I wasn’t flirting right back.

“You go right on ahead and tell yourself that,” she said. “But I think you should go for it.”

“Nothing to go for, but even if there was, I don’t know if I would. I’m starting to think single life is perfect for me,” I said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yeah. I was just thinking that if everything worked out the way I thought it was going to, I would be scuba diving with Steven right now. And the first thought that went through my mind was that I’m glad I was here instead. What does that tell you?”

“That does kind of say a lot,” she agreed.

I nodded. “I can’t believe it’s been almost a month. I hate that I wasted so much of that time staying there. It would have been so much better to just come back to Astoria with you that day. Rumpled bridal gown, streaked mascara, and all. I’m just glad to finally be away from there.”

“And from Steven?” she asked.

“And from Steven.”

We clinked our glasses, downed another drink, and headed back into the fray to dance.

5

Tyler

Stopping at the local sub and sandwich shop was a routine for Sundays that never failed me. The after-church crowd was usually out at the buffet places or the sit-down spots, leaving my favorite deli open and mostly empty. I was starving after skipping breakfast.

Opening the door, however, my plans changed almost immediately. In a corner, sitting by herself with a laptop in front of her, was Becca. She had a plate with an untouched salad and half sandwich sitting on it, meaning she was just settling in. I walked up to her, but she didn’t raise her eyes from the laptop, so I made a coughing noise to get her attention.

“Oh, Tyler,” she said, her face immediately breaking into a smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Do you mind?” I asked, gesturing at the other side of the table.

“Not at all, come sit down,” she said.

“I was just planning on grabbing a to-go order, and then I’ll be out of your hair,” I said, noticing that she shut the laptop when I sat down.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I was just sitting here ramming my head into brick walls anyway.”

“Don’t do that,” I teased. “Whatever the problem is, having a concussion won’t help.”

She flashed me a smile that made my stomach clench. “I’ve just been going down dead ends, looking for a job.”

“Oh?”

“I went to school for psychology and was hoping I could open my own office one day, but for right now, that’s not an option.”

“Have you come across anything interesting?” I asked.

“Not yet, no. It’s frustrating because the only places around that I could actually make use of my degree are predatory,” she said.

“How so?”

“They all want me to shadow someone or do an unpaid internship for like a year,” she said, frustration built up in her voice. “I can’t live with my parents that long.”

“Hah,” I said, “I knew you’d get tired of that quick enough.”

“Hush you,” she said.

My order came up, and I grabbed my lunch, taking it back to the table with Becca. She moved her laptop over to the side, and the two of us began eating as our conversation continued casually and smoothly. I was struck by how easily we fell into a comfortable rhythm, like we had been friends for years. While I supposed it was technically true in the sense that we had been friendly for most of our lives, we had never really sat down and talked much.

While eating her sandwich, Becca pulled her purse out and opened it up, taking out a bottle of acetaminophen and popping two of them back with her tea. I watched her with an ever-expanding grin. When she got the pills down and moved on as if nothing happened, I took a sip of my drink and decided to tease her.

“Had a little too much last night, didn’t you?” I asked.

She shut her eyes briefly and nodded.

“Everything hurts,” she said. “I don’t usually get hangovers, but this one kicked my ass.”

“I bet,” I said. “You were knocking those drinks back at a good clip if I recall.”

“Well, they were delicious,” she said. “So, I am blaming you. Or Ava. Whoever came up with them.”

“Little bit of her, little bit of me,” I bragged.

“I’ll just go with blaming you, then,” she said. “Melissa called me far earlier in the morning than I thought she would, all chipper and talkative. So, I didn’t even get much sleep.”

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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