One Night With Her Best Friend (2 page)

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Authors: Noelle Adams

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: One Night With Her Best Friend
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Aaron
was never sentimental and rarely made a big deal about anything—but his
attachment to this old shirt was really very sweet.

“Yeah.
I can fix it.” Then she gave in to the surge of affection and stretched up to
kiss him on the jaw. His skin was bristly under her lips from a day’s worth of
beard. He felt and smelled so Aaron-like that she followed the kiss with a hug.

For
just a second, he stood perfectly still. Then he wrapped his arms around her
and tightened them almost painfully.

She
sighed in pleasure, feeling warm and safe and
known
in his arms.

“What
was that for?” he asked when they pulled apart.

She
shrugged. “Just because.” For no good reason, she felt a little awkward about
her spontaneous gesture, so she sat back down at her desk to complete her
email. “Did you finish grading your papers?”

Aaron
had gone to high school and college here in Chicago with her, but then he’d
gotten married and moved away for graduate school. They’d drifted apart for
those five years until he’d gotten a divorce and taken a faculty job in the anthropology
department of a local liberal arts college.

He’d
rented the apartment across the hall from hers, and their friendship picked up
where they’d left off, as if they hadn’t spent those five years apart.

“Yeah.”
He grabbed his beer again and went over to lower himself onto her couch.

“How
were they?”

“The
usual.”

She
turned around, waiting to see if he was going to complain about the declining
state of writing and critical thinking in American college students, but he
didn’t. He wasn’t even looking at her now. He sat with his beer untouched and
stared out toward the glass door onto her balcony.

She
frowned, wondering why he looked so stiff and uncomfortable all of a sudden. It
couldn’t have been the hug. They’d hugged countless times before. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t
lie to me. Did something just happen?”

“Nothing
happened. You need to get dressed or you won’t be ready when he arrives.”

She
ignored that. She’d known Aaron too long, and she could read the tension in his
shoulders and the rippling muscle in his jaw. She just didn’t know what had
caused it.

She
went to sit down beside him and put a hand on his knee. “Aaron, tell me what
the hell is the matter all of a sudden?”

“Would
you please put some clothes on?”

Kate’s
mouth fell open. “What?”

“Your
robe is open.”

She
sucked in a surprised breath and looked down at herself. Sure enough, the
fabric had parted past the point of decency, revealing a lot of skin and the
inner-curves of her breasts. She pulled it closed. “Oh. Sorry about that. But I
don’t know why you’re getting all uptight about it.”

“I’m
not uptight, but it really isn’t smart to go around flashing random men.”

He
sounded uncharacteristically grumpy, and she frowned at his tone. “You’re not a
random man. You’re Aaron. And we went skinny-dipping together when we were
seventeen, so I don’t think anything I have should be a shock to you.”

He
rolled his eyes, but he looked more relaxed now that she’d pulled her robe
closed. “I thought you’d be going through an extensive primping ritual. Isn’t
this supposed to be a big date tonight?”

“Yeah.
It’s our one-month anniversary.”

Aaron’s
expression conveyed his opinion of celebrating a one-month anniversary.

“Don’t
be snide.”

“I
didn’t say a word.”

“Your
expression was snide.”

“You’re
imagining things.” His mouth twitched. “Although Hugh is a ridiculous name.”

She
stiffened. “There’s nothing wrong with his name. There are a lot of incredibly
handsome Hughs in the world, you know.”

“If
you say so.”

“I
do say so. Shall I list them for you?”

“Please
don’t.”

“I’m
crazy about Hugh.”

“You
really aren’t.”

Annoyance
tightened in her chest. “What the hell is wrong with you today? I
am
crazy about him.”

“You’re
crazy about the
idea
of him, but I’m not sure how crazy you are about
him
.
He fits the image you’ve always had of the man you want, and that’s what has
you so excited.”

Hugh
was a high-powered corporate attorney—handsome, sophisticated, and organized, with
as clear a plan for his life as she had for hers. She’d spent the last month
feeling like her romantic daydreams were about to come true, and it was just
rude of Aaron to not support her in this.

“What’s
wrong with that? There are certain things I look for in a man, and he happens
to possess all of them. That’s
why
I’m crazy about him. You don’t even really
know him. How can you presume to know my feelings for him?”

“I
know
you
. It’s like I was saying before. You’ve always had this picture-perfect
plan for your life, and you dismiss without even considering anything that
doesn’t fit—because you think it’s a threat to your orderly world. You just assume
Hugh is the next item on the master list for your life.”

“Why
are you harping on all this today? I know what I want. And Hugh is what I want.”

He
let out a breath and seemed to slump a little, although nothing significant
changed about his body language. “I know he is.”

“Then
why are you acting like I’m doing something wrong for liking him?” Her voice
cracked slightly on the last word.

“I’m
sorry,” he said, his hazel eyes kind and familiar again. “If Hugh makes you
happy, then that’s great.”

“He
does.”

“Then
that’s good then.”

She
peered at him, feeling like he’d withdrawn from her in an inexplicable way. The
idea made her chest ache.

She’d
never been so lonely as the years he’d been married and living across the
country from her.

“I
said I’m sorry,” Aaron said thickly. “Don’t look at me like I strangled your
bunny.”

She
couldn’t help but chuckle at his wry, aggrieved tone, and the tension in her
chest relaxed. She had the ludicrous urge to hug him again, to crawl into his
lap and be held by him.

She
resisted the impulse, of course, since it was entirely inappropriate.

She
was about to reply when he said, “You’re going to be late for your date. It’s
after seven already.”

 “Damn.
I’ll have to skip doing my nails.” She glanced down at her hands, checking to
see how bad they looked.

“Why
do you need to do your nails?”

“Because
they need doing.”

“Hugh
isn’t going to care about your nails.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Remember
what I’ve always told you about men?”

“Men
are easy,” she paraphrased, having heard his words of wisdom many times before.
“Show them your boobs and they’ll be happy.”

“I’m
quite sure I never used the word ‘boobs’ in that context, but the sentiment is right.
He’s really not going to give a damn about your fingernails.

She
was tempted to laugh, but she was still concerned about how dismissive he’d
been of the man she’d picked out for herself. So she hid her amusement and
said, “Be that as it may, I really like Hugh. I think it might be serious, and
I’m trying to expedite matters between us. You realize that, right?”

Aaron
frowned. “Well, like I said, take off your shirt and I promise things will be
expedited.”

She
couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter. “I meant expedite the
relationship
.”

“Oh.”
He frowned again but differently this time. “Well, either way, I don’t think
your fingernails are going to matter all that much.”

“You’re
probably right. And I don’t have time for them anyway. I better get ready.”

Aaron
leaned back against the couch with his beer while she walked to the bathroom
and picked up her hairdryer.

She
and Aaron had met on the first day of school fourteen years ago. She’d just
moved to the city after her mother had separated from her father, and she’d
been terrified about starting another new school. She’d moved so often as a
child that she’d never had more than casual acquaintances, and she wasn’t even
sure how to begin making friends.

Back
then, Aaron had been what could charitably be called a ‘geek’—smart, skinny,
president of the chess club, always with his head stuck in a book. He was nice
to her, though, when no one else was, and he’d always been able to make her
laugh. Even when, later in the year, she’d started to run track, got involved
in student council, and began dating athletes, she’d always considered Aaron
her best friend.

In
all these years, that had never changed.

When
her long, dark hair was dry, she flat-ironed it straight, since she liked the
sleek, shiny look better than her natural waves. She normally wore it up in a
low chignon—what Aaron called her “librarian bun”—but she wanted to look sexy
tonight.

After
doing her makeup, pleased that her new eyeliner made her eyes look so blue, she
went to her room to get dressed, smiling fatuously at the vase of red roses Hugh
had sent her the day before. They were already dating exclusively. If things
kept going as well as they had so far, by this time next year, she might be
engaged.

She’d
always thought marrying at thirty would be perfect timing, and she got excited
shivers about the possibility of her life coming together so smoothly.

She
shouldn’t get too ahead of herself, though, so she tried to talk herself out of
her excitement and be reasonable.

An
annoying reminder of Aaron’s comments earlier about her perfectly scheduled
life flickered through her mind, but she pushed the thought away. The memory of
how chaotic and insecure her life had been with her father still made her feel
sick. She wasn’t going to risk that again. If Aaron thought she was overly rigid,
then she could live with that. At least her life would remain stable and
secure.

She’d
put on a new bra and panty set—in dark red lace—and was on her way to the
closet to get the dress she planned to wear when a tickle on her arm surprised
her.

Glancing
down, she saw that the tickle was a little black spider.

She
wasn’t particularly squeamish, but instinct took over at suddenly finding an
arachnid crawling up her arm. She gave a little squeal and jerked her arm away,
flinging the spider off her skin.

Unfortunately,
in the process, she flung her arm into the vase of flowers. The glass vase and
two dozen roses fell to the floor with a loud crash.

“Damn
it!” she screamed, half in surprise and half in dismay.

The
vase bounced once and then shattered on the polished hardwood floor.

She
was just orienting herself to what had happened when her bedroom door flew
open. “Are you all right?” Aaron demanded, taking two steps into the room and
searching urgently for the crisis.

“No,”
she wailed. “My roses!”

It
took a few moments for Aaron to process the situation. When he did, his face
twisted in annoyance. “You scared the hell out of me, Kate. They’re just
flowers.”

“The
vase broke too,” she pointed out, a little embarrassed now that her momentary
panic was over. “My poor skin could have been shredded to pieces. Plus, there
was a spider.”

Aaron
huffed dryly. “Well, that explains everything then. I’ll get something to clean
it up.” Before he turned around, she saw his eyes flash quickly up and down the
length of her body. She was still wearing only her bra and panties, but the
sight of her mangle roses distracted her from putting on more clothes.

She
was leaning over, trying to carefully pull the wet stems away from the broken
glass, when Aaron returned with the broom, dustpan, and a towel.

“Be
careful,” he said. “There’s broken glass and your feet are bare.”

“I
am being careful.” When she’d collected the roses, she positioned the dustpan
so he could sweep the broken glass into it.

“I
can get it,” he muttered.

“Why?
It was
my
mess.”

He
took the dustpan out of her hand. “You’d be better served getting dressed.”

Kate
glanced down at herself. Then she noticed that Aaron was diligently avoiding
any stray glances over at her body. She felt a flash of annoyance that he was
so irrationally preoccupied when she was trying to save her flowers. “Would you
stop being stupid? I’m wearing as much as I would wear on the beach. For
someone who studies the cultures of indigenous tribes who don’t always wear a
lot of clothes, you’re getting to be awfully shy.”

“I’m
not shy,” he objected, still staring down as he swept pieces of wet glass into
the dustpan.

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