Page 8 of My Ex-Best Friends

“Him?” She pointed to Johnny Gray, a man who’d been caught taking pictures of womens’ feet at the beach. “He can’t be bad.”

I felt the urge to shake her. “Foot fetish. Honest to god, Brooke, are you fucking with me?”

She pouted and for a moment, I was staring down at the face of my best friend and we were both still kids. She’d grown up, filled out, changed her hair, but she still had the same vibrant green eyes and full mouth. She still couldn’t hide the freckles across her cheeks and nose. That pout was one she’d given me all the time when we were teens. She’d pout at me and I’d give in to whatever she wanted.

“No. Areyoufucking withme?This has to be a joke.” She blinked up at me, her long eyelashes fluttering. “I guess a foot fetish isn’t all that bad. I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum.”

I couldn’t help it. I gripped the back of her neck and squeezed just enough to get her full attention. “Are you seriously talking yourself into accepting a fetish that you don’t have just for a guy that you don’t even know? Come on, Brooke. You can’t be serious.”

Her lips parted and she swayed towards me. She was definitely past tipsy and showing more of a reaction than she normally would’ve, I was willing to bet. She liked my hand on her neck. That alone should’ve made me yank my hand back but my fingers didn’t budge. I silently swore at myself.

“You pick someone then.” She looked down and I watched as her big eyes went even wider. “Whoa.”

I looked down and tightened my grip on her neck before pulling away and turning her around to face the crowd. She had no business looking at my dick and the way it was doing its fucking best to get to her. My dick had no goddamn business reacting to her the way it was. “Him. Goofy polo shirt, khakis. I bet he has a golden retriever and a 401k. Definitely a good guy.”

Logan cleared his throat and shot me a wide-eyed look before nodding at Brooke. “Colt’s right. That’s a good guy. Go get him, little bunny.”

Brooke sighed and shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

I watched her ass as she made her way to the guy. She didn’t seem very excited about her prospect. As soon as she reached the guy, I turned to face Logan and Noah. “Well, this was fun.”

Logan finished his beer and blew out a deep breath. “You want to talk about what just happened between the two of you?”

“Nothing happened.” I pressed my lips together and then growled. “You want to talk about calling her little bunny?”

Noah didn’t take his eyes off of Brooke. “They’re dancing.”

I told myself not to turn around. I had no business watching her. Still, I turned around and flinched at the sight of her smiling up at Polo Guy. They were on the dance floor and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his hands low on her back, right over her ass. I saw Brooke tense and tightened my hand on my beer. She wasn’t my business.

Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. I watched as Polo Guy started sneaking his hand lower and I’d had enough. Storming across the bar, I grabbed his hands and shoved them away from Brooke’s ass. “Watch your hands, asshole.”

Brooke turned around and shocked the hell out of me by grinning and leaning into me. “I don’t think any of us have good taste in men.”

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, grinding my teeth together at the feeling of her bare skin under my hands. I shot the guy one more glare, even though he was already drunkenly stumbling away. “I thought I could trust the khakis.”

She was still leaning into my chest and grinning when she tipped her head back to look up at me. “Finn Love wore khakis sometimes. I don’t know, Colt. Maybe there aren’t any good guys left for me and I’ll just grow old all alone. That could be alright. I could get a couple dozen cats and maybe they’ll eat me when I die so no one will have to deal with my body.”

“Jesus, Brooke.” I led her back to our table and deposited her basically into Logan’s lap. “Fix her. She’s talking about cats eating her and shit.”

“Ugh. Fine!” Standing up straight, Brooke tugged her dress down her thighs as much as she could and nodded her head like she’d made a decision and was agreeing with it. “I’m going to do this. Colt doesn’t get to help anymore because he sent me to a drunken frat boy who smelled like puke. Logan, your turn. Pick a guy, any guy.”

I didn’t care. She was a wreck and I wasn’t going to worry about her. She’d walked out on us so easily once before. I had to remember that. She could be heartless and I had no interest in dealing with that again. Just when I was throwing up my hands on the whole operation I saw Logan point to a guy I knew from the fishing yard. Scowling, I told myself to mind my own business.

I made it two seconds before I butted in again.

8

***Brooke***

“Are you a good guy?” I drunkenly grinned up at the guy Noah had pointed out. The guy in front of me was the latest of almost a dozen men the guys had sent me to. I’d been ‘coached’ on what a good guy looks like, but so far it seemed like none of us knew that particular tidbit.

Khakis for Colt, neatly combed hair for Logan, clean shoes for Noah, and the list went on and on. Each lesson seemed to be more and more ridiculous but I was drunk and having a great time.

“My girlfriend thinks so.” The guy smiled and lightly rested his hand on my waist. “I don’t mind if you don’t, though.”

I stuck my tongue out and groaned. “Your girlfriend deserves better.”

“Probably so but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. What’s your name, little lady?” His hand tightened on my waist. “Anybody ever tell you how pretty you are?”

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