A Guide to Being Just Friends

“That’s better,” he said. “Start with a genuine ego boost. What else you got?”


She laughed again, the buzzing and pounding in her head receding. “I can’t. Seriously. You look good. Fiona’s in there like it’s a day at the spa. You guys do this. I’ll wait. We’ll eat after.”

“I think you need this more than either of us.”

“Ouch.”

He shook his head, took a step closer so the tips of their shoes were touching. People walked past them, going into the restaurant. “People don’t think California is ever dark. They’re so used to the sun, it’s all they expect. All they see.”

Her brows pushed together. It was sunny here most of the time. Wes’s hand reached out, rested gently on her shoulder, and a different sort of buzz hummed along Hailey’s skin. All the way down to her fingertips.

“It reminds me of you. You’re so positive, so upbeat. I forget you’ve been hurt. That you’ve seen the other side of happiness. You need this, Hailey. Not so you can get a date right away but so you can open the door again. Someday.”

“You didn’t want me to do this. You thought it was dumb. You didn’t want to do it.”

His smile was quiet. She loved that one. “But I’m here. Because you thought it would be good for me. We don’t have to sign over our feelings tonight. We just have to be open to them.”

She poked him in the shoulder. “Suddenly, you’re smart?”

He laughed, dropped his hand. “Actually, I’ve always been smart. Above average across the board.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

When she stepped forward, his fingers circled her wrist. “You’re okay?”

Taking a deep breath, she let it out. “Yes. No matter what happens, at the end of the night, I don’t have to leave alone.”





18


So much for bowing out gracefully. He’d dressed, second-guessed his agreement the whole way here, and then decided Hailey deserved to have him tell her in person he was out. Except now, he didn’t want to go. Not because he wanted to find a date—he’d rather go back on the apps than this, and that was saying something—but because he wouldn’t ditch his friend.

Even though he’d felt the vibrating hum of tension when he’d seen her, which he recognized as more than just friendly feelings, she was his friend. Outside his siblings, probably his best friend. He truly enjoyed being with her, and seeing her upset like that unnerved him, made him want to fix it. Which, ironically, she’d hate.

He couldn’t fix her past or what hurt her but he could stay and be her wingman. That’s what friends did. Did anyone actually believe this shit? Five minutes for love? Fine. He could admit a spark took less than five minutes but really, what were the statistics on relationships formed in this setting long-term?

As a tall, broad-shouldered man tapped on the microphone, Wes looked over at Hailey. She seemed to be breathing a bit easier now. He’d recognized the panic because he’d been there himself more than once. She smiled, looking so lovely with her hair down, her cheeks adorably flushed. She wore a pair of dark jeans that fit her well, emphasizing her enticing curves. Her floral top had two little strings dangling right between her … what the fuck are you doing? Checking out your friend? He felt mad at himself. The only thing you could offer her unconditionally is what you have between you now.

“You’re frowning,” she whispered as the man at the front explained the rules.

“I’m not.”

“Why would I lie?”

He winked at her, trying to forget that seconds ago he’d been on a visual tour of her body. “To throw me off my game.”

She laughed loud enough to make the host stop, then buried her face against his arm. “You have no game.” It was whispered from somewhere in the vicinity of his armpit.

“They don’t know that.” He loved making her laugh.

The announcer continued after someone asked a question. “If you make a connection, put a star beside that person’s name and we’ll explain how to make contact at the end of the night. We ask that you move promptly when the buzzer goes so everyone gets their chance to visit. The most important thing is to have fun. Very worst-case scenario, you’re going to meet some new people tonight.” The guy’s jovial tone suited a carnival setting more than a romantic restaurant, but people clapped excitedly.

“Do we need a signal?” Fiona asked, nodding to Wes in greeting.

“Like a safe word?” Hailey whispered.

“I think we’re good. If we don’t like it, we can leave,” Wes said.

Fiona folded her hands together, tapping her fingers with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “That’s what they want you to believe.”

“I get to pick the next ten activities after this,” Wes said on a groan.

“Sounds like a lot of nights grocery shopping,” Fiona countered.

Wes gave Hailey a mock glare. “We do more than grocery shop.”

Fiona pretended to smack her head. “Right. Don’t forget the video games. Geesh. If I had your money, I’d be bathing in champagne and throwing parties every night.”

Hailey bit her lip but Wes could see the hint of her smile. He looked at Fiona, saying deadpan, “Pretty sure Noah said the champagne baths aren’t as comfortable as you’d think.”

A buzzer sounded. “Ladies at the tables, please.”

“Good luck,” Wes said. He wasn’t sure which of them would need it most.

His phone vibrated in his pocket but Wes did what he always did: put his focus into a decided-upon task, giving it his full attention.

The first woman he sat with, Julie, had oversized, red-framed glasses. He sat down, promising himself an ice-cold beer after this.

“Hi, Wes.”

“Hi, Julie.”

It was like interviews in date form.

“I’m a Gemini. How about you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your sun sign. Scorpio, Taurus, and Pisces are not great matches for me. When’s your birthday?”

“January twenty-eighth.” Apparently he was the interviewee.

She clapped her hands together. “Aquarius. We’re a great match.”

Based on that? “Off to a good start,” he muttered.

“What do you do?” She leaned forward on the table, her arms purposely accentuating the low-cut V of her blouse.

Wes looked up at the ceiling. “Cybersecurity.” It was the simplest answer.

“Fascinating,” she said, enthusiasm dripping in every syllable.

He wasn’t trying to be a jerk but this was going to be painful. He lowered his gaze carefully, stopping at her eyes. “It can be. How about you?”

“Dog grooming. Do you have a furry friend?”

He almost laughed. “Other than my brothers? No.”

She pointed at him. “Oh, you’re a funny and sexy one. That’s a double thread.”

Wes winced. “Threat.”

She stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“The term is ‘double threat.’”

The buzzer went.

Only instead of being saved by the bell, it just meant he had to endure more.



* * *



“Drink it,” Fiona said.

The three of them had left without starring anyone’s names. They found a little pub around the corner, slipped into a booth, and Fiona had promptly ordered a round of tequila. The good stuff.

Hailey wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like tequila.”

“I’m good with whatever washes the taste of speed dating out of my mouth,” Wes said, taking the shot.

Fiona laughed, lifted hers, but waited for Hailey. “Come on. You can order what you want next.”

They both downed it but Hailey made a horrified face after hers, making Wes and Fiona laugh.

“It wasn’t all bad,” Fiona said.

“Really?” Hailey asked. “One of them asked my waist, shoe, and bra size.”

Fiona grimaced. “Maybe he was into fashion.”

Hailey sipped at her vodka 7. “Somehow, I don’t think so. I know everyone is on edge at those things. The one guy … Carl. He was nice. Science teacher at the high school, three sisters, three nieces. Wants to start a family.”

“Carl wants your clothes on his floor.” Wes gulped half his beer.

Hailey’s jaw dropped. Wes was rarely so blunt. “He does not.” Hailey chewed on her bottom lip. Her continuous glances toward Wes throughout the evening left her with the same thoughts about many of the women he’d sat with. Their admiration was easy to see in their expressions. “Peter. He was forty-one, divorced, and looking to find someone who wasn’t afraid of new adventures.”

“Like your clothes on his floor,” Fiona said with a giggle.

Wes tapped his glass to Fiona’s. “Those things are just a more civilized version of grinding up on strangers in bars.”

Fiona snorted. “Jesus. Did Daddy Warbucks just say ‘grinding up on’? I need to pour tequila in my ears so I never hear that again.”

“You guys are cynics. Cynics without a cause.” She set her glass down with a smack. “I have reason to doubt being in a relationship. Good reasons. You two are just pessimists.”

“Hey. I have my reasons,” Fiona said. “Guy number eight asking me if I liked sensual oils is a great reason.”

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