Page 30 of Charming my Best Friend

Chapter 10: Aiden

I was so happy to see her it was stupid.

In light of the bullshit demise of my sad excuse for a relationship and the annoying tone in my Mother’s voice when I told her I’d dumped another girlfriend, I was starting to think Lucy was the only person that didn’t think I was a total fuck up.

Then again, maybe she did, but at least she didn’t make me feel that way. Which I have to assume is why I craved her company when I loathed the thought of being around anyone else… besides my good friend Jack Daniels, of course.

And it was Jack that was comforting me when Lucy walked in wearing a short skirt.

“How you doin’, champ?” she asked, sliding onto the stool next to me.

“Never better.”

Lucy lifted a finger towards the bartender. “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” she said, nodding towards my drink.

“Make it two,” I added.

She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me it’s a cuba libre.”

“Jack and Coke I’m afraid.”

She laughed. “Shit. Good thing I wore my drinking boots.”

“You always wear your drinking boots.”

She shrugged. “Well, you can never be too prepared.”

“You look nice,” I said, wondering what color underwear she was wearing.

“Thanks. You look like you’ve been drinking since noon.”

“Three actually, but I make good time.”

She shook her head. “I wore my little sunflowers to cheer you up,” she said, turning her head so I could see her earrings.

“Are those the ones you got in Chinatown?”

“Yep,” she said. “Best quarter I ever spent.”

“You like ‘em that much, huh?”

She nodded. “I think it’s because sunflowers always look like they’re smiling to me.”

“Thanks for coming to meet me, Luce.”

“Don’t mention it. I was thirsty anyway.”

The bartender put two drinks down and Lucy grabbed hers, sniffed it, and made a face so disgusted I was surprised she didn’t hold her nose when she downed half of it in one go.

“How can you drink that shit?” she asked, putting her glass down.

“Pretty much the way you just did,” I said, draining the sweating glass in front of me.

“It tastes like hangover.”

“It tastes like forgetting.”

She rolled her eyes.

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