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Meghan is my friend, and I don’t want to show up and make things weird with her tonight, especially on her thirtieth birthday.
I want to simply enjoy catching up. Hanging out together. Like always. Like friends.
It’s just everyone else messing with my head, and making me lose my cool.
Have I ever imagined sex with Meghan? Sure. Yes. A time or two. Or twenty…thousand. I mean, Meghan’shot.
But I’m no fool. I’d never compromise our friendship just for a chance to get in her pants. Finding a woman to have meaningless sex with is relatively easy. If I really want to get laid, I don’t have to try that hard. But a friendship like the one I have with Meghan? That’s one in a billion. I could never put a price tag on it. And there’s no way I’m doing anything to put it in jeopardy.
Giggles and shrieks from the front of the store grab my attention. As I approach the checkout, I see three girls in gas station uniforms eyeballing my Audi out the window.
Shit—the rain is already coming down heavier than when I walked in.
The girl with the short red ponytail winks at me as I set down my goods on the counter. “Nice ride, mister.”
I scan the chocolate selection in front of the register, too distracted by my plans for tonight to pay this girl the attention she’s so clearly seeking. “Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing a bag of gas station brand peanut butter cups. Meghan’s favorite.
A girl with mischievous eyes and straight black hair leans across the counter, exposing her cleavage. “Need some company tonight?” She smiles at me.
I don’t bother to smile back.
The tallest of the girls walks up, slinging an arm over each of her friends. She attempts to sweeten the deal. “If they say three’s a crowd, thenfourmust be the magic number.” She counts each of us in turn with subtle flicks of her chin.
Wow. Classy.
Thankfully, the suggestive comments come to a halt when their manager pops out of the back room holding a clip board. She rolls her eyes at her workers. “He has a girlfriend, you thirsty vultures.” The woman turns a tired smile at me. “Hey, Cash.”
“Hey.” I recognize her as someone I went to high school with. For the life of me, I can never remember her name.
“You have a girlfriend?” The redhead pouts in my direction.
The manager answers for me. “Yes. Meghan. The cute vet technician who always comes in here. Everybody in town knows that.”
Um…everybody in town knows that? Looks like the rumors about my love life extend well beyond the Chicago city limits.
Three pairs of eager eyes stare at me, waiting for my corroboration.
“Yeah,” I confirm. Just to get these thirsty girls off my back. Meanwhile, inside my head I’m repeating my decade-old mantra.Best friend, not girlfriend. Best friend.
“Aww. That’s too bad,” the black-haired girl chirps with a fake pout. “Your girlfriend is so lucky.” She looks ready to throw in the towel.Thank god.
“Well, don’t keep her waiting.” The redhead grins, shooing me toward the door. “Go! Go!”
I grumble a ‘good night’ and, on that, I rush out of the gas station into what is now a freaking downpour. The sky is black and the town has already gone quiet for the night. It’s late as fuck.
My cheap plastic bags crinkle obnoxiously when I drop my haul onto my passenger seat. I yank open my glovebox and shove my receipt inside. Sure as hell I’m expensing this trip, whether the assholes in accounting like it or not.
As I’m shutting the glove compartment, an older, faded slip of paper flutters to the floor. I swallow and my throat knots hard as I pick it up. I let my eyes skim over the words jotted across the nine and a half year old scrap of paper, the signatures scribbled in sloppy, familiar handwriting.
On this twenty-fifth day of May, Cassius Westbrook and Meghan Hutchins hereby agree that if neither of them are married by the time they turn age thirty, they shall marry one another.
Putting the old receipt back where I found it, I forcibly shove those memories aside. I slam the box shut and pull out of the gas station with my wipers swishing rain left and right.
Just my friend. Meghan Hutchins is just my friend.
Although the whole world seems to be convinced otherwise.
Meghan
