Page 95 of From Best Friend to Bride
She stared at me. “What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Do you want me to show you?’ and grabbed the waistband of his trousers.”
“Did you see it?”
“No, I ran screaming into the bathroom and the hotel sent someone to our room to check everything was all right. Not my finest moment.”
“Ah.” She nodded slowly. “I can see why he might be reluctant to tell you about it, then. Probably doesn’t want to scare you again.”
“I am not scared of Fred’s penis.”
Lucy sat forwards, propping her chin up on her hands, and stared at me with glazed eyes. “Tell me about it.”
“Go to work.” I flicked her forehead and stepped back. “Or get a cold shower before I call your husband.”
“Call my husband. Please.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Harvey to come and get his horny, pregnant wife before I sold her to the circus. The moment her phone rang, I took my chance and made a break for it. I motioned to Si that I’d be back in a few and locked myself in the cellar.
Phew.
I was safe here.
I perched on a stack of pallets and stared at my lock screen on my phone.
Was it possible that they could be right? Was Fred getting a boner every morning because of me?
Had he lost his damn marbles?
I was sure that’d never happened before—not post-puberty, anyway. Even then that was less about me and more about him.
Was Fred… attracted to me?
The very thought of it sent a weird little tingle up my arms. Of all the things I could think about, I’d genuinely never considered that it might be the case.
A dirty dream? Sure. Everyone had those, right? Brains were weird little things, and I could swear I’d even orgasmed in my sleep before.
But me? Fred? Attraction?
I brought my thumb to my mouth, trapping the tip of my nail between my teeth. I supposed it wasn’t completely insane. I wasn’t blind, nor was I a walking sack of unfeeling idiocy.
Fred was handsome.
He wasextremelyhandsome.
If he weren’t my best friend, if we hadn’t grown up together, if we’d met at another time in another place, I might have been interested in him.
No, I would have been.
I would have wanted to ride him like a train.
Choo-choo-motherfuckeruntil the fuel ran out.
Did I really not see him as a man?
No. I did. I knew he was a man. I saw it every time his shower coincided with me being awake, given his preference to wander around shirtless. Heck, I’d had one hell of an eyeful of his toned, strong, manly body just this morning.
Right.
