Page 2 of Somebody To Love

BJ sat at one of the tables in the middle of the room, head down, muttering something to the paper in front of him. She marched right up to him, stopping a foot away, mouth opening, words pouring forth before she lost her nerve.

“BJ, I have something I need to talk to you about. You see, the thing is—”

An object flashed against the sunlight pouring in from the large front windows. Catching her attention from the corner of her gaze, she blinked. Glancing over, she spotted…an ice pick? Yup, that’s what it appeared to be. An ice pick tacked to the wall. She stopped mid-sentence, everything falling away as she stared at the walls of the restaurant. All manner of junk filled every space, skis, pictures, geodes on shelves.

“Why does it look like a flea market threw up in here?”

BJ glanced up from his papers, a grimace twisting his lips. “Del said tourists like shtick. It’s a bunch of stuff related to Kismet and Colorado. Supposed to create a sense of fun or something.”

She could see that. When she visited Key West a few years back with her jerk of an ex, she remembered how neat all the tchotchkes were all over the island. It made the trip more fun. Truthfully, it had been the only enjoyable thing. She shook herself out of unpleasant memories. No time for that now. She had a mission.

“What do you need?”

She hesitated, anxiety kicking in. “Oh, um, I-I…I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

He looked down at the papers sprawled on the table in front of him. Throwing the pen down, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. “Please interrupt me. All this paperwork is giving me a headache.”

He seemed tense. She could tell by the way he held his shoulders, all tight and stiff. Having been friends for over fifteen years, she knew BJ better than anyone. But she still couldn’t predict how he’d respond to her question. Her stomach pitched and rolled, threatening to bring back the ham and cheese on rye she’d eaten for lunch.

“What’s up?”

He dropped his hands, smiling up at her, and she lost her nerve. All of it. How in the world had she ever thought she could ask this of him? Tapping her fingers on her leg, she forced a smile. “I was wondering about the information for the grand opening. I need to get it up on the website ASAP.”

Pale blue eyes glanced down to her thigh, where her fingers nervously tapped away. His hand reached out, grasping hers. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her knuckles as he always did, soothing her.

“Seriously, Penny, what’s up?”

Oh crap. And here it was, the prime example of why she wanted, no, needed, BJ to be the father of her child. Not father father. She wasn’t about to suggest starting a relationship with her best friend or anything. Honestly, the thought had crossed her mind a time or two—or a million—over the years. In her defense, what woman wouldn’t have fantasies of Bravo Jackson?

Kelley, but that probably had more to do with the fact that she was a lesbian and didn’t want any man.

Every straight, bi, and pan woman in kismet drooled over BJ’s pale blue eyes. Unlike Ace, who kept his hair short, BJ grew out his long wavy hair. The silky strands caressing his shoulders whenever heh left it down, begging to have fingers run through it. She’d heard a few women at the bar one night call him a lumbersnack—whatever that was—and refer to his beard and penchant for wearing flannel.

And while, yes, her best friend was hot as all get out, she found the best thing about him to be his funny sense of humor and penchant for protecting the underdog. When you rolled it all together, it made one very irresistible package. So yeah, she’d thought about it, but she would never act on it, because BJ was the only person in her life who accepted her as she was. Since the day they met their junior year in AP Chemistry, he’d never made her feel out of place or like a freak. To him, she was just Penny.

Skipping two grades meant she went from middle school straight into her junior year. Not fun to be a fourteen-year-old girl on the cusp of puberty surrounded by stunning sixteen-year-olds. Awkward couldn’t even begin to describe how she felt all gangly and nerdy next to girls who were experts at makeup, boys, and fashion. The only thing Penny had been an expert in was academia. Not very popular with the high school crowd.

Her brains hadn’t won her any popularity contests, but it made her a target for bullies. As did her autism diagnosis. In her third week of school, a group of popular girls cornered her in a hallway. They threw toilet paper at her while shouting less than flattering things about her chest size, suggesting what she should do with the endless amounts of white tissue they covered her in. Tears poured down her face. She’d crouched, folding in on herself. She hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped until she heard a deep male voice yelling, calling them cruel and threatening to report them to the principal if they didn’t leave.

Eyes watery, she’d glanced up into the face of her savior to see a sixteen-year-old BJ, a sympathetic smile on his face, hand out to help her up. He told her those girls were jealous because they weren’t half as smart as she was. From that day on, he’d been her protector, confidant, and best friend.

That was why she’d never go beyond friendship with BJ. She was too afraid to lose him if things didn’t work out. Ha! If things didn’t work out? Like they’d ever get started. He might be her friend, but she knew the kind of women he dated; sexy, sophisticated. Not nerds with a World of Warcraft account. They might be friends, but he was so far out of her league she couldn’t even see the field.

Didn’t matter. That wasn’t what she wanted from him, anyway.

“Penny?”

She glanced up—when had he stood—to see him standing in front of her, a concerned expression marring his brow.

“I’m sorry. Did I space out again?” She did that sometimes, okay, all the time.

“Yeah, but you didn’t look like you were doing math in your head.” He cupped her cheek in his big, warm palm. “You looked sad.”

Oh perfect, now he was worried about her. This was not how it was supposed to go. She planned to come in here calm and confident, remind him of his offer, present her case and allow him to think it over. She’d gone and ruined it all with her walk down memory lane.

“I’m fine.”

One thick brow arched.

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