A Guide to Being Just Friends

“Money can come between people. You told him how you feel. I don’t think you need to feel bad. I do wish you’d snapped a picture of it.”


Hailey tried to smile. “I’m falling in love with him.” She stared at the patterned tabletop, tracing the barely noticeable circles.

When Fiona didn’t respond, Hailey looked up. Fiona set her cup down. “Sorry. Was that supposed to surprise me?”

Huffing out a laugh, she picked up her own coffee but didn’t sip. “It’s too soon. I mean, I wouldn’t let him give me a gift, which in his world was really nothing much, yet I’m thinking about a future and how much I want him in it.”

Fiona rubbed her shoulder. “Listen, from what you’ve said, you already tried to fit into a world where you didn’t feel like you belonged. If you can’t be straight with him when he goes over the top, then you’re not as steady as you think you are. Has he given you any reason to think he’s upset or hurt?”

She smiled, thinking of the text he’d sent this afternoon, telling her he couldn’t wait to see her tonight. “None.”

Dropping her arm, Fiona began packing up her laptop. “Then stop sweating it. Enjoy it. Live in the moment. You two can’t be in the same room without drooling over each other so I’m thinking he feels the same way.”

Giving her a mock glare, Hailey stood up. “I do not drool.”

Fiona laughed, touched the corner of her own mouth. “You’ve got a little right there just from talking about him.”

Hailey’s tension eased with the laughter. “Get out.”

“On my way. See you Sunday.”

“Fi?”

Her friend turned, waited.

“Thank you. For the graphic, for being my friend. You’re another reason I’m grateful I moved here.”

Fiona rolled her eyes but leaned in for a one-armed hug. “You’re a big sap. But I’m glad too.”

Locking the door after her friend, she decided to do one more check to make sure she was ready for the next day. The massive whiteboard calendar Wes had bought her months ago hung in the kitchen beside the walk-in fridge. Her phone pinged before she made her way to it. Pulling it out of her pocket, she saw it was an email and swiped it open.

Frowning, she leaned against the fridge and read the email from one of their regular lunch contracts. They were canceling. No explanation. She typed a quick response, thanking them for their business, asking if there was anything she could do to make the service better for them, and offering a discount if they changed their minds.

Tucking her phone away, she told herself it was just one contract. It would be okay. Looking at the board, she erased the company’s name. They had thirteen other weekly contracts. That was huge. Super important and one of the reasons she’d been able to stop the catering. It made up a substantial piece of her business.

But it bothered her that the one company that canceled was a referral from Ana.



* * *



Wes greeted her with a wide boyish smile that immediately brightened her mood.

Going up on tiptoes, she kissed him, loving how he leaned down to meet her halfway. His hand went to her hip.

“I missed you,” he said.

The admission smoothed away any lingering tension from the end of her day. She cupped his cheek. “Careful. You might be getting addicted.”

She didn’t need to show all her cards. He laughed, closed the door behind her.

“I’m surprisingly okay with that. What’s in the bag?”

She followed him through the apartment, detouring to the kitchen to put the bag in the fridge. “I brought fruit cup salads with a twist.”

When she turned, he was right there. She laughed. “You’re awfully cuddly. What’s going on?”

He bobbed his eyebrows. “What’s the twist?”

She went up on tiptoes, kissed his smooth jaw. “Brownies.”

He laughed. “Why did I even ask?” He took her hand, pulled her to the couch. “We’ll eat after.”

She tucked her hand in the back pocket of his jeans as she followed. He didn’t wear them often but damn they looked good. “I like the sound of that.”

Wes glanced over his shoulder, shooting her one of those drool-worthy smiles. “We’ll do that after, too.”

She laughed when he turned, pretended to toss her on the couch. He came down with her, landing beside her. “First, I want you to play a game.”

“A game?” She shifted on the couch, getting more comfortable by tucking her legs under her. She’d gotten decent enough at his favorites but she didn’t love any of them in particular. They’d spent several evenings with him playing while she came up with new salad recipes or read.

“Yup.” He opened the laptop.

“Don’t we need your console?” He had several and though she, again, didn’t have a favorite, his excitement was contagious. “Is it new?”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as he typed something. “Brand-new.”

He put the laptop on her lap, glued himself to her side. The screen was blank.

She looked at Wes, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You’re so excited.”

He turned his face, met her gaze. “I just want you to know I heard you. I want you to know you matter to me.”

Her heart slid right in his direction. “I do know that.”

Wes practically bounced in his seat and gestured to the screen. “Hit the space bar, follow the directions.”

She did as he asked, completely unsure what to expect. Following the instructions on the screen, she used a combination of arrows, the mouse, and the keyboard to walk an adorable character, named Wes, through a series of tasks. His goal was to get through the maze to an equally adorable character, Hailey. By making the correct choices—flowers over diamonds, chocolate over chips, dogs over cats, tea instead of coffee—he was able to open new pathways. She purposely chose a couple of wrong answers to see what would happen.

Covering her mouth, she tried to stem her tears, pointing at the screen when on-screen Wes sat down, head in his hands, revealing his disappointment. Then she got another chance to try, making the right choices. When he finally cleared the path to on-screen Hailey, the two characters kissed. Little hearts floated over their heads.

Unable to stop the tears, she set the laptop down on the table. When she turned to fully face Wes, he winced. “You’re crying. Do you hate it?”

She sniffled indelicately but was too overwhelmed to care that the ugly tears were trying to show up. She shook her head. “I. Love. It.” She had to slow the words, put emphasis on each one so she didn’t accidentally swap “it” with “you.”

Her breath came out shaky. Wes reached for her, ran his thumb under her eyes. “Hey. Hey. Come here,” he whispered.

She curled into him, swallowing down the tears. “You are quite possibly the sweetest man in the universe.”

His chest rumbled with laughter under her cheek. “The chances of that are slim but as long as you think so, that’s all that matters.”

They lay there for a while, her breathing him in, doing her best to get her emotions somewhat contained. Hoping she didn’t look like a puffy mess, she leaned back, smiled up at him. Wes stroked her hair away from her face, pressed a kiss to her cheek, trailed along, up, over her temple, across her forehead.

Before his lips touched hers, it occurred to her he’d created a game. An actual on-screen game.

She started to share how happy she was but his lips touched hers, making her forget about anything else. She’d tell him later, how much he meant to her, how proud she was. Right now, she put her effort into showing him.





36


April

Wes didn’t keep things from his brothers. Ever. Until now. As they each took their seats around the table to listen to their lawyers, his foot bounced up and down.

“What’s wrong with you, man?” Noah leaned in, tapped him with his hand.

“Nothing.”

Noah arched a brow, looked to where Wes’s leg continued to dance on the spot. He stopped.

“Meeting Hailey’s cousin and family later. Guess I’m nervous.”

“We met them at the restaurant,” Noah said.

Wes frowned. “For five minutes. This is different.”

“Equivalent to meeting the parents?” Chris asked, leaning in from the other side.

“Pretty much.”

Chris smiled. “You clean up okay. You’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get started,” their lead counsel, Leonard Reiner, said. He was an older, distinguished man who had a long, successful career fighting for the underdog against men like their father. He worked for them and with them to do things right once and for all. “Your father has agreed to drop all proceedings if these conditions are met.”

The other lawyers and assistants passed papers forward. Wes scanned the list. Their father wanted rights to intellectual property Wes had created, or would create, in the cybersecurity sphere. He wanted a percentage of their investments in exchange for them breaking contracts with his company.

“This is bullshit,” Noah said, tossing the paper back. “We didn’t break anything. We’re his sons.”

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