Page 7 of Shes my 1 Try

It comes out all nasally as my face is still pressed into the bed. No matter if this is good news or bad, I can’t stop how tired I am.

“Finally!” the familiar voice of my best friend, Ines, exhales, her flustered tone one I know well. “I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”

“I just got in,” I drawl, dragging my body across the bed to lay on my back.

“Seriously? You’ve been gone since five a.m.” The sound of Ines pacing in her sparse apartment echoes down the phone, and I can just see her waving her hand in the air with exasperation.

“That’s what happens when you want to do a fifty-person photoshoot all in one day, Ines.” Admittedly, even I didn’t think we’d be there that long. I mean, they’re sports men and women; who knew some of them would be so pretentious and picky.

“I’m sorry. If I’d known the job was going to take so long, I never would have put you up for it, Wiles,” she apologises, but I’m not sure why.

“Ines, I wanted this job. I don’t know why you’re feeling…so…bad,” I say through my yawn.

“Honey, I don’t want to see my bestie working herself to the point of exhaustion.”

“Not all of us have a Sugar Daddy willing to pay for everything, bestie.” I love Ines; we’ve been friends since the first grade—my god we’ve been friends for a long time—but she grew up in wealth and affluence, and though she’s always offered to help me out, hard work isn’t a concept she’s overly familiar with.

“Simon and I aren’t seeing each other anymore,” comes her subdued reply.

“I…I’m sorry, Ines. I know you really liked Simon.” Ines hasn’t been serious about much in her life, flitting from one fad to the next, but Simon was different. She mightn’t admit it, but I can tell.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s his loss. I didn’t call about…him. I called about the super sexy hottie you posted on your insta. Are you holding out on me?”

I knew when I took that photo and posted it, she’d jump on it. I also know pushing her about Simon won’t yield any answers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Toeing my shoes off, I put my phone on speaker and strip off my jacket and pants, dumping them on the floor while Ines tuts at me. “I am not some noob who will give up that easily.”

“Never said you were,” I say through a stretch, wanting to curl up under the covers for days, but getting a whiff of myself puts paid to that. “Ugh.”

“Ugh? What’s ugh?”

“Not you,” I sigh, trudging across the hall to the bathroom.

“Good. Now did you get super sexy hottie’s number?”

“What are the chances that if I hang up, you’ll let this go?” There is absolutely zero chance, I know it, but this isn’t a subject I want to talk about. Especially not when there’s every possibility Ines is onto her second bottle of chardonnay.

“None! Now spill.” And I can just see the ear-to-ear grin she’s wearing as she tucks herself into the corner or her ridiculously comfy lounge.

“There’s nothing to spill.” I shake my head as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and wonder if I looked this bad in front of Asher. Those bags under my eyes are enough for a family of five on a three-week vacation.

“Please! You never post photos of guys, with tags like that, on your business socials. Be a pal, and just spill it. You know I’m not going to let it go until you do, so save yourself the hassle and tell me.”

“Fine!” I groan, shutting the toilet seat lid and flopping down on it. “There isn’t much to tell, really. He’s so out of my league, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“So, when you say league is that a pun, because from where I’m sitting, he might be a SSH…”

“A what?” I cut her off.

“A super. Sexy. Hottie. SSH,” she huffs and I offer her a derisive snort. “No. Don’t you dare, Wiley. You are a fucking gorgeous woman, with tits for days and an ass that’s begging to be spanked. Oh, my god. That’s it.”

“Wait. What’s it, Ines? I know that tone. What crazy-ass thing are you trying to sign me up for now?” Sometimes I wonder what goes on in her head, the crazy shit she comes up with, and I’m the one who usually gets caught in the middle of it.

“You need to get laid.”

“I most certainly do not!” Well, I probably do, but on my own terms. I doubt my about-to-die-from-over-use magic wand isn’t going to cut it tonight after being in Asher’s intoxicating presence. The idea of him bending me over…nope. Nope, not going there. “No, Ines.”

“Yes, you do! How long’s it been? A year?”

---