Page 48 of From Best Friend to Bride
Theirs was a fairytale kind of love compared to the villainous disaster that was my parents’ marriage, but I didn’t want either. I never had. I never wanted to be swept off my feet or carried away into the sunset.
I just wanted… love. Something soft. Stable. Something real. Built on trust and understanding.
I wanted a love that was utterly boring.
I shook those thoughts off and rolled over in my blanket. I was all tucked up and had no intention of getting out of bed, even if Nana was downstairs.
My phone buzzed on the bedside table, and I groaned as I reluctantly crept an arm out of my cosy haven.
Si.
I did not want to answer this call.
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” I said, tucking the phone under my ear on the pillow.
“Deli,” he replied, a clanging noise coming from behind him. “Can you come in at one?”
“Siiiiiiii,” I whined.
“Bean’s kid went arse over tit on his bike this morning and has broken his wrist. He’s at A&E now. Gonna be there a while, so I said I’d get someone to cover him.”
“Why is it always Bean? And why is it always his kid?”
“Poor sod probably got his dad’s brains,” Si answered. “At least he was smart enough to wear a helmet.”
Yeah, well, if the kid had actually inherited Bean’s brain, it was just as well that he was. He really couldn’t afford to lose the few brain cells he had.
“All right, fine, but he owes me. I’m getting out of bed for this.”
“You’re a good one, kid.”
“I’m twenty-nine.”
“That’s a kid to me.” He chuckled down the line. “Thanks, Deli. I appreciate it. You know he’ll return the favour.”
I sighed. I did. Bean was an idiot, but he was a good guy—even if nobody did know where the nickname ‘Bean’ had come from.
Seriously. It was a mystery. Not a single soul in Hartford Green knew how he’d gotten it. It was as if he’d woken up one day and everyone just started calling him it.
What even was his real name?
Had I ever heard it?
“See you in a couple hours,” Si said, pulling me out of my little thought train. He hung up before I could respond, and I rolled over with a groan that I felt all through my body.
I was aching. I was tired. Going in at one meant I was on the books for a twelve-hour shift today. Sure, I wasn’t in work tomorrow, but that wasn’t the point.
I didn’t want to be in worknow. I wanted to be in at five like I was supposed to be.
“What’s that all about?”
I raised my head and stared at one half-naked, wet Fred. A grey, fluffy towel was wrapped around his waist, and his auburn hair fell over his forehead, dripping water all over his face.
“Put some clothes on,” I said, staring at his abs. “Nobody wants to see that.”
“Then stop looking,” he drawled, turning away from me anyway. “Close your eyes.”
I flopped back and pressed my hands over my face. The sounds of drawers opening and closing filled the room, and fabric swished. A couple of minutes later, he grabbed my foot.
