Read Online Falling for My Best Friend (Fated #1) by Hazel Kelly - Free Book Online
Authors: Hazel Kelly
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who didn’t give a shit about
her.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. Maybe she knew Brad.
Maybe they were both volunteering at the nursing home together and decided to
grab lunch.
Or maybe that was horseshit.
I mean, Chelsea barely ate so lunch for her was more a social
thing than a biological necessity.
And while I was no expert on Brad- though I could probably
identify his decapitated body at a crime scene- I hadn’t gotten the impression
that he was the kind of guy that went out of his way to spend a lot of time
with lonely seniors.
After all, surely that’s the kind of thing you would mention if
you were trying to bang a chick. It would be the perfect anecdote for putting
yourself forward as a thoughtful and sensitive guy, the kind of guy it was safe
to fuck on a first date.
But there had been no mention of anything even remotely
altruistic over our lunch. Plus, that was Brad’s go to Tinder hot spot because
he had access to all the private massage rooms in the hotel spa… which were
surprisingly spacious.
Still, even though I never thought Chelsea was good enough for
Aiden, I didn’t want her to be cheating on him. Not just because it made me
sick to think about when I was supposed to be psyching myself up for ice cream,
but because if she was carelessly hurting him, I’d have to kill her.
Then she’d never have to count another calorie again.
But I wasn’t going to say anything to him about it now when we
were having a nice time. I didn’t want bad news interfering with our glorious
ice cream parlor hounding tradition.
Besides, what if I was wrong? That would be disastrous. It might
jeopardize his trust in me. Or worse, he might take her side and push me away.
Then we’d both be broken hearted.
I mean, he was my best friend in the whole world. The only thing
I could imagine that would be more horrible than someone hurting him was if
someone came between us.
No. I couldn’t risk our friendship by gossiping about Chelsea unless
I knew for sure that she was being unfaithful. After all, Fiona and I left
before she and Brad did. Maybe they didn’t cross the street and go into the
hotel. Maybe I was just jumping to unfair conclusions because of my own
prejudices, like the fact that I didn’t trust people who thought ice cream was
evil.
I sighed. Either way, I was fucked.
“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” Aiden asked, looking at the menu
hanging high on the opposite wall. “What are you going to go for?”
“I think I’m going to get the cake batter ice cream in a
sprinkle covered waffle cup.”
“Toppings?” he asked.
“No, I don’t want anything to interfere with my judgment of the
ice cream itself on this initial assessment.”
“A wise choice.”
“You?”
“I’m going to go with the double chocolate swirl in a chocolate
dipped waffle cone.”
“Toppings?”
“Peanut butter cup chunks,” he said. “For extra protein.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
“Do you ever worry that someday we’ll be collecting cavities
like we collect ice cream places now?”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” I said. “What we’ll do is skip the
cavity stage entirely and go straight to being gummy and toothless. After all,
you don’t need teeth to enjoy ice cream.”
“But what about the peanut butter cups,” he said, sticking out
his bottom lip.
“Don’t know what to tell you.”
He sighed. “Life is so cruel.”
“Maybe we could blend them up and you could drink them.”
He shook his head. “Too sad.”
“Won’t they melt in your mouth if you wait long enough?”
“Yeah, but I’d have to spend the whole day eating ice cream.”
“The horror!” I said, raising my hands to my cheeks.
“You’re right. That is exactly how I want to spend my
retirement.”
“You and me both,” I said.
We ordered our ice creams and watched as the assembly line of
“dessert specialists” mixed our concoctions to our exact specifications. By the
time the woman plopped my ice
her.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. Maybe she knew Brad.
Maybe they were both volunteering at the nursing home together and decided to
grab lunch.
Or maybe that was horseshit.
I mean, Chelsea barely ate so lunch for her was more a social
thing than a biological necessity.
And while I was no expert on Brad- though I could probably
identify his decapitated body at a crime scene- I hadn’t gotten the impression
that he was the kind of guy that went out of his way to spend a lot of time
with lonely seniors.
After all, surely that’s the kind of thing you would mention if
you were trying to bang a chick. It would be the perfect anecdote for putting
yourself forward as a thoughtful and sensitive guy, the kind of guy it was safe
to fuck on a first date.
But there had been no mention of anything even remotely
altruistic over our lunch. Plus, that was Brad’s go to Tinder hot spot because
he had access to all the private massage rooms in the hotel spa… which were
surprisingly spacious.
Still, even though I never thought Chelsea was good enough for
Aiden, I didn’t want her to be cheating on him. Not just because it made me
sick to think about when I was supposed to be psyching myself up for ice cream,
but because if she was carelessly hurting him, I’d have to kill her.
Then she’d never have to count another calorie again.
But I wasn’t going to say anything to him about it now when we
were having a nice time. I didn’t want bad news interfering with our glorious
ice cream parlor hounding tradition.
Besides, what if I was wrong? That would be disastrous. It might
jeopardize his trust in me. Or worse, he might take her side and push me away.
Then we’d both be broken hearted.
I mean, he was my best friend in the whole world. The only thing
I could imagine that would be more horrible than someone hurting him was if
someone came between us.
No. I couldn’t risk our friendship by gossiping about Chelsea unless
I knew for sure that she was being unfaithful. After all, Fiona and I left
before she and Brad did. Maybe they didn’t cross the street and go into the
hotel. Maybe I was just jumping to unfair conclusions because of my own
prejudices, like the fact that I didn’t trust people who thought ice cream was
evil.
I sighed. Either way, I was fucked.
“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” Aiden asked, looking at the menu
hanging high on the opposite wall. “What are you going to go for?”
“I think I’m going to get the cake batter ice cream in a
sprinkle covered waffle cup.”
“Toppings?” he asked.
“No, I don’t want anything to interfere with my judgment of the
ice cream itself on this initial assessment.”
“A wise choice.”
“You?”
“I’m going to go with the double chocolate swirl in a chocolate
dipped waffle cone.”
“Toppings?”
“Peanut butter cup chunks,” he said. “For extra protein.”
I laughed. “Of course.”
“Do you ever worry that someday we’ll be collecting cavities
like we collect ice cream places now?”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” I said. “What we’ll do is skip the
cavity stage entirely and go straight to being gummy and toothless. After all,
you don’t need teeth to enjoy ice cream.”
“But what about the peanut butter cups,” he said, sticking out
his bottom lip.
“Don’t know what to tell you.”
He sighed. “Life is so cruel.”
“Maybe we could blend them up and you could drink them.”
He shook his head. “Too sad.”
“Won’t they melt in your mouth if you wait long enough?”
“Yeah, but I’d have to spend the whole day eating ice cream.”
“The horror!” I said, raising my hands to my cheeks.
“You’re right. That is exactly how I want to spend my
retirement.”
“You and me both,” I said.
We ordered our ice creams and watched as the assembly line of
“dessert specialists” mixed our concoctions to our exact specifications. By the
time the woman plopped my ice