Page 6 of Accidental Baby With My Brother's Best Friend

A longshot to be honest because people like me were not made for love and commitment. I mean, I love it for people but I would rather steer clear, for obvious reasons. One of which is that there’s so many beautiful ladies out there that it sucks to stop at one. I want them…I want them all. Speaking of which.

I nod in agreement. “Maybe but don’t bet on it. Until then. But for now, how about we head to the club. All that time off shore must have made you cold and stiff. Pretty sure you could do with some booze and a little distraction. Like the good ol’ days.”

The club might be the wrong place to find love but we did always have the best times.

Dean drops his empty glass onto the coaster on the table. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”

I frown and lean forward slightly. “Come on man. Don’t be such a buzz kill.” I snort, shaking my head. “You sound so much like McCoy now.”

Back in our crew, we were the hotshots, the ones everyone wanted to get to know. And there were those who were our polar opposites. McCoy was one of them. He used to be an absolute pain in my ass, constantly telling me I needed to work hard and prove myself as a Naval officer and how we needed to stop drinking and clubbing if we wanted to live long. Then there were his bad jokes. Terrible actually. Jokes that should never see the light of day but he made a habit of telling them. That kind of bullshit.

Dean’s mouth quirks into a grin, “My apologies. But I’ll pass this time.”

Knowing Dean, trying to talk him into changing his mind is pointless. He’s too stubborn. So instead, I nod in acceptance. “Okay. I can respect that. I guess I’ll have fun for both of us then.”

“Sure.”

He stands up and I join him, grabbing our coats. “I’ll see you around. I’ll be taking my leave now. I’ve got a few things to settle.”

I smile. “Sounds good, man. Call if you need anything.” He nods and heads for the door, pausing to give my shoulder a light squeeze. His hand is warm even through my jacket and sends warmth throughout my entire body.

It’s a comforting sensation and I welcome it with open arms. We part ways and I head to the elevator for the ride to the ground floor where I exit and walk towards my car. It’s my first night out partying again after several months, and I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.

Chapter4

Lily

It seems quite fitting that I should be seated in a bar, drunk with teary eyes two days from my twenty third birthday. Honestly, if that isn't a birds-eye view of my life, then I don't know what is.

I’m not just a little drunk—I’m a lotta drunk. Like, call your ex and cry on the phone, professing your love for him—even though he cheated on you with your friend—kind of drunk. Thank goodness I had Christie with me. She stopped me before I had the chance to make a fool of myself.

"Lily, are you listening?" My best friend Christie asks. She's sitting beside me, nursing a glass of scotch, which I'm pretty sure she only got because she saw me drinking mine. Her expression is concerned, as always whenever she sees me this heartbroken. Sometimes it hurts me to think of how my mood affects hers. And how much she goes out of her way to be there for me. I would switch her with my actual mother in the twinkle of an eye if I could. The damned woman wouldn’t let me have a minute of peace.

“Urm. I kinda lost you a while back. Yeah, Yeah. Matt’s an asshole. My mom’s even worse and I hate my life.” I groan, dropping my head to my hands. I can feel my temples throbbing already. I’ll probably get a headache tomorrow. And the next day. The noise in the bar isn’t helping either but that's okay. I can ignore it. It doesn't matter what else goes wrong tonight.

“Poor Lily. I’m sorry you have to go through so much. If it helps you feel better, we can head to Matt’s place now and do some damage to his car. I can be a bad bitch for you. You know that right?” Christie says, taking another sip of her drink. She winks at me and I almost smile.

“Nah. I’m good. We don’t have money for bail, you know and I can bet my ass my mom would be happy to let me spend a day or two in jail to teach me a lesson.” I take a swig too.

Christie frowns down into her glass and bites her lower lip. I know her well enough by now to know she’s just as affected by my sour mood as I am. “What’s the deal with her anyways? Why won’t she just leave you alone? You’re turning twenty three in a few days.”

I shrug. “You tell me. She’s never liked me and probably never will. I did give her a piece of my mind earlier though.”

Christie’s eyes widen comically. She nearly spits out her drink. “You did what?”

“I told her how much of a terrible mother she is. Why do you look so surprised? She got what’s been coming to her.”

The look of surprise on her face is because she’s advised me to let it out in the past, let her know how I feel and quit being a coward, but I had declined as many times as she’s asked. I had always hoped I could fix things with my mom but I think we’re way past that already, and I’ve come to accept it. Much like I’ve come to accept that I’ll never be able to keep a man as mine. Matt’s my fourth failed relationship in quick succession. And guess what they all had in common? They were lying, cheating dickheads who couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants.

Christie sighs. “Ugh, if you would stop dating guys like ‘Horndog’ Matt, this wouldn't be a problem.” Her tone softens when she sees my expression, a mixture of hurt and regret. "I just hate to see you get hurt over and over by the same type of guys—scared of commitment and can’t be faithful even if their lives depended on it. Honestly, I never saw the appeal in Matt. You are definitely a ten, and he's like...a three, at best."

Well, the truth is that he was pretty much the most available person after my last failed relationship and a broad shoulder to cry on. He was a good dick to ride, but there wasn’t much else.

I try for a small smile, swirling my drink around, watching the ice cubes spin. "It's not like I purposefully attract assholes, Christie. I don’t think I have a sign on my head saying, ‘Hey I’m Lily! Feel free to fuck me up and leave!!And no, I’m a solid seven and not a ten. A couple inches more in height and maybe I would agree.”

“You’re five foot seven.”

“And you’re a five-foot-ten epitome of beauty and class.” I retort.

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