Page 23 of Charming my Best Friend

And perhaps that was part of the problem. Maybe I respected him too much, too.

Regardless, I’d had more fun washing his hair and letting him look down my shirt than I’d had fucking a guy in years. Which was so stupid.

When was I going to learn that nothing good ever came out of lusting after my best friend? He didn’t need a lover or a girlfriend. He had those things already, and he’d never had a problem getting them when he didn’t.

He needed a friend, someone he could rely on to tell him the truth even when it was difficult, someone who would answer his phone calls and not blow him off because they were afraid to hurt his feelings.

And I had to be that girl because it was the only way I knew how to keep him in my life.

So I would do what it took to maintain our friendship.

Unless I figured out how to get him to respect me less.

But I didn’t see that happening.

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