Page 7 of Just Friends

Best Friend Alexander: IT’S A GREAT MOVIE

Hazel: You’re on movie probation for the foreseeable future

Hazel: What should I wear to this bachelorette party tonight?

Best Friend Alexander: Probably something scandalous

Hazel: I don’t feel like getting hit on

Best Friend Alexander: You NEVER feel like getting hit on

Hazel: Men are the armpit of society

Best Friend Alexander: Preach, sis

Best Friend Alexander: But really…do you think you’re ever going to date again?

Hazel: One day

Hazel: But not anytime soon

Hazel: I don’t need a boyfriend anyway

Hazel: I have you

BestFriendAlexander: So I was thinking. After this wedding is over tonight, we should go get burgers.

Hazel: As long as there’s ice cream involved

Best Friend Alexander: I’m not a monster. Of course there will be ice cream.

Hazel: You and me and ice cream

Best Friend Alexander: Always, Lane

Thelightsinthediner are harsh and bright. Truthfully, they’re the only thing keeping me awake at this point. It’s been averylong but happy day, and I’m exhausted.

“Two cheeseburgers, double order of chili fries, a cotton candy milkshake, and whatever she’s having,” Alex says with a nod in my direction.

The waitress, who has been eyeing him appreciatively since we walked through the door, cocks an eyebrow as if to clarify thatallthat food is for him.

Alex gives her a charming smile. The one where one corner of his mouth hitches up first. I roll my eyes as pink stains her cheeks and she completely forgets I’m here.

“I’ll have that right out,” she says and turns to head back to the kitchen, her dark auburn ponytail swishing against her stark white uniform.

“A Reuben,” I say, and she spins back around, finally remembering there’s another person at this table—even if my dimples aren’t quite as alluring.

The waitress looks at me like I just got in front of her in the ATM line with a big bag of change to deposit. “Anything else?”

I try to give her a sweet smile, but I can tell this woman will only be enchanted by one person at this table tonight. “Mint chocolate chip milkshake.”

She doesn’t bother to write it down and retreats into the kitchen without acknowledgment.

“Think it’s the dress?” I ask Alex sarcastically, motioning to the bridesmaid dress and Alex’s borrowed salmon colored tuxedo jacket that I haven’t bothered changing out of since my brother’s wedding a few hours ago.

His nose crinkles in confusion. “Is what the dress?”

I roll my eyes and press my lips together to keep from smiling. In the little over a year since I moved to Nashville and we became best friends, I’ve gotten that same jealous look from women everywhere—and Alex hasnevernoticed. I swear sometimes I think it’s in my head. But then I remember that one time a lady at the movie theater actually curled her lip in disgust, and I figure it’s not just me.

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