According to Paul, you should always be prepared.
Who knows? One day I may find myself on the set of some game show that asks obscure questions related to reality television, English grammar, and zombies. If that happens, I’m prepared.
Sami takes a deep breath. "No, he wouldn't. Dad was thrilled that I was marrying Jack. And well, no one knows about that Ellen thing—no one but you and of course Jack and her." She nods her head. "Yep, that's everyone. Hell, they were so into it, I doubt they even know I was there."
I run my hands over her arms, up and down. "You should have grabbed a lamp and conked them both upside the head."
A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "That's why I love you. Violence is always your first thought."
I shrug. "I’d say it’s yours. Usually screwing is my first thought. But...well, that was already happening."
She playfully hits my shoulder. "Thanks for the reminder."
"Ouch. See. Be violent with Jack, not with me."
As I wrap my arms around my best friend, she falls against my chest. The scent of strawberries tickles my nose, and I take a deeper breath. For just a second, Sami seems to relax and melt against me. Our friendship has seen it all. We know each other's deepest, darkest secrets and we're still here—through childhood, our teens, college, and now.
Always.
The one thing we haven't done, not ever, is move beyond friendship. It is our most important agreement, one we made when we were young. We also agreed that friends and family were off-limits. I crossed that line once but learned my lesson. As for the line between me and Sami, we’ve stayed true.
Keeping that line in place was easy when we were running around the neighborhood or swimming in the lake. Back then it was as if we were brother and sister, but sometimes lately the thought crosses my mind. After all, that agreement was between two kids. Sami is definitely no longer a kid and neither am I. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be with Sami,withher, making love with her.
But I can’t do it. I won’t.
No matter how beautiful she has become, or fun, or happy, or sad, we are friends first and always. We can't jeopardize that. However, if we did cross that line, I'm sure I could help her forget that asshole Jack.
No. Her friendship is worth more than finding out how great we’d be together.
Besides, it isn’t like I’m living a life of abstinence. I get plenty of action.
I've taken many women places they didn't know they could go, all in the name of forgetting some asshole who wronged them. But that won't be how I help Sami.
Earlier tonight, when I got Sami's hysterical call, I was on my way to a date. Thedatewas just drinks with some chick from the gym. We've talked a few times. Her name starts with K or a C. I can't remember. It's like Katie or Catlin. All I know for sure is that she has great tits and a nice ass and wears excessively tight clothing to the gym. When she invited me for drinks, I didn't think about saying no.
I also didn't get her number.
Now I'm the douche guy who stood her up.
Remembering her body, they way her tits bounce when she runs on the treadmill, I'm most certain that she won't be alone for long. And since I can't remember her name, I'm not too brokenhearted.
I reassure my libido that the next time I see Miss Tits and Ass at the gym, all I'll need to do is flash my baby blues, wipe the sweat from my forehead with my shirt, showing off my tight abs, and claim that a heartbroken friend kept me away. Then I'll ask if we can reschedule. Ten to one says she won't hold a grudge for long.
After all, what's more appealing than a good-looking, successful guy who went to a friend's rescue?
Tonight is about Sami.
Besides, the chick from the gym gives off the same vibe I do. She's not looking for anything other than some fun and a good time. Those have been my goals forever, but the order of significance is most usually reversed.
Sami and I have always had different life goals. Yet, in most ways, we're both living the dream.
It's just that our dreams for a relationship—a forever, until-I-die thing—have always been different.
My mind goes through her list of boyfriends, ending with the slime bag, Jack. From the time we were young, I’ve wanted her to find her forever. She thought she had. Unfortunately, as my shirt continues to dampen with her tears, Sami's forever just screwed his intern—in Sami’s bed.
"Hey, how about I order some dinner," I offer. "I can have sushi here in twenty minutes."
Sami sighs against my chest. "I deserve better." Her voice is soft but determined.