swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut. If I could spend a year watching her date my best friend, I can certainly spend another fucking thirty seconds to take a breath before I pull her into my arms.
When I open my eyes, she’s worrying that bottom lip between her teeth and twisting her hands. “I probably shouldn’t be here,” she says, but instead of heading to the door, she opens the door to Mason’s and my room. “I just didn’t know where else to go, but it was stupid to come here. He’s your boy and I—”
“What are you doing?”
She’s on her hands and knees, searching for something under Mason’s bed. She pulls out a bottle of tequila and gives me a sideways smile as she unscrews the cap. “It’s Bailey’s stash.” She takes a long pull right from the bottle and squeezes her eyes shut as she swallows. “Crap, that burns.” She wanders around the room with the bottle in her hand, taking sip after sip as she paces. “I never worried about Trish, you know that? I knew she liked him, but it didn’t occur to me that he might like her, too.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I ask cautiously. I don’t like how quickly she’s draining that bottle.
“There’s not much to the story, Arrow.” She plops onto my bed and takes another swig. “I showed up to surprise him, and Trish was already sucking his dick.” She snorts, and a long stream of giggles slips past her lips. “Oh my God, it’s so absurd.”
“Mia—”
“I give great head,” she says, bringing the bottle to her chest.
I rub my temples. Do I really want to be the sweet guy friend who can sit here and listen to her talk about giving Brogan blowjobs? Hell no.
“I mean, I do all the things you’re supposed to do, and he sure seems to like it, but what do I know? Maybe I suck.” She snorts again. “Get it? I suck?” She takes another drink, and I walk across the room and pull the bottle from her hand.
“Yeah, I get it, Mia.” I put the bottle on top of the dresser.
She stretches out on my bed, arms above her head. “Why do guys cheat, Arrow? Are they programmed that way, or is it me?” Her BHU T-shirt raises up to expose her navel and the smooth skin of her stomach. “I bet it’s the blowjob thing. I bet I’m no good.”
Mia. On my bed. Talking blowjobs.
I clear my throat. “Do you want to get out of here? We could go for a drive?”
She sits up and nods, but suddenly tears pool in her eyes and stream down her cheeks. Fucking Brogan.
Maybe I should want this. A clean break for them so Mia and I can finally . . .
Fuck, I don’t even know. But I’m not happy. I’m not relieved or feeling the slightest bit victorious. Instead, I want to take a swing at him for hurting her. And since beating the shit out of my best friend for cheating on the girl I love makes next to no sense, I’ll settle for finding a way to make her smile tonight. Because that’s what I do. I’m the friend. I’m the shoulder to cry on, the promised smile. That’s why she’s here. Nothing more.
She follows me to the car, and I open the door of my blue Mustang and watch her climb inside. Her jean shorts bunch around her hips as she sits. I fist my hands at my sides. Don’t be a fucking asshole.
“Where are we going?” she asks when I climb into my side and buckle my seatbelt.
Anywhere that doesn’t involve looking at you in my bed. “Well, obviously this calls for ice cream first and foremost.”
There it is. The first smile of the night. Or partial smile, because it doesn’t meet her eyes. But I’ll take it. I’ll have her grinning outright in no time.
“I want one of those massive sundaes,” she says, buckling her seatbelt. “The ones with all the crap that’s so bad for you and, like, two thousand calories each. I’ve always wanted to try one of those, and I think it’s time.”
I turn the key in the ignition and feel the car purr to life. “You’re telling me you’ve never had a big ice cream sundae?”
She shrugs. “A cone’s bad enough. I work hard trying to get my ass to shrink. Don’t need ice cream to make it an even more impossible battle.”