My Best Friend’s Boyfriend Read online

  My Best Friend’s Boyfriend

  Amy Brent

  Copyright © 2018 by Amy Brent

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Ava

  2. Logan

  3. Ava

  4. Logan

  5. Ava

  6. Logan

  7. Ava

  8. Logan

  9. Ava

  10. Logan

  11. Ava

  12. Logan

  13. Ava

  14. Logan

  15. Ava

  16. Logan

  17. Ava

  18. Logan

  19. Ava

  20. Logan

  21. Ava

  22. Logan

  23. Ava

  24. Logan

  25. Ava

  26. Logan

  27. Ava

  28. Logan

  29. Ava

  30. Logan

  31. Ava

  32. Logan

  33. Ava

  34. Logan

  35. Ava

  36. Logan

  37. Ava

  38. Logan

  39. Ava

  Epilogue

  One More Chance (Sneak Peek)

  Description

  Prologue

  Ava

  I sat there and played with my salad, listening to Camilla drone on and on about her and her boyfriend, Logan. I had known the second she had called me up and wanted to get dinner that something had happened and I would get an earful about it. What I hadn’t expected was the sheer amount of detail she would go into while I tried to eat my food.

  “He fits me like a glove, Ava. And he’s so big. I mean, it’s insane. I’ve never been with a guy as big as him.”

  “Do we really have to talk about this now?” I asked.

  “Come on, you’re the only person I can talk to about this kind of thing. Besides, don’t you want to know what happens with sex? You know, in case you find yourself in a position to have it?”

  “Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I don’t know how sex operates, Camilla.”

  “Well, you could’ve fooled me. The last time we talked, you seemed shocked that Logan licked caramel off my—”

  “I didn’t know people put sweets in places like that, so sue me. Penis in vagina. Sex. There we go,” I said.

  “You suck the romance out of everything.”

  “I’m sorry, but having my hair pulled and my butt slapped doesn't sound like romance. It sounds painful.”

  “But it feels so good, Ava. Trust me. When you finally cave and have sex, have your hair pulled. I know you think it’s weird, but trust me. You’ll love it.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I said.

  “Wanna know what Logan tried this time?”

  “You mean after sucking a strawberry out of your vagina and leaving actual teeth marks behind, there’s still more?”

  “With Logan, there’s always more. Get this: We also tried anal last night.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “And it hurt like hell. He’s way too big. But he did try slipping a finger in my asshole when he was—”

  “And now I’m no longer hungry,” I said.

  “Oh, come on, Ava. You’ve never been this touchy when talking about sex.”

  “And you’ve never been this graphic. How long were the two of you in bed? Four hours?”

  She grinned. “Try all night.”

  “Can we talk about something else now? Anything else?”

  “Fine. How did your date go last week?”

  “It came and it went.”

  “So, no second date?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re still a virgin?”

  “I’m not sleeping with any man on the first date, Camilla.”

  “Then when are you ever going to get laid? Come on, Ava, you’re twenty-five years old. Are you scared or something?”

  “I’m not scared. Just waiting for the right moment, and the right person. A man named Garrett who talked about his miniature pony the entire night didn’t really seem like the right guy to lose my virginity to.”

  “A miniature pony?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, that’s bad.”

  “Very.”

  “Well, why don't you come speed dating with me?”

  “Because if one rejection a night isn’t enough, try thirty in an hour! It really is a natural high,” I said.

  Camilla threw her head back and laughed as I took a bite of my salad.

  “See? Any man would be insanely attracted to your sense of humor,” she said.

  “It isn’t about attraction, Cam. It’s about connection.”

  “Logan and I connected after our first date.”

  “Seriously? Cut it out.”

  “I’m just worried that something’s scaring you about it. You’re the only twenty-something-year-old I know who’s so against sex.”

  “I’m not against sex. I just don’t want to have meaningless sex.”

  “The sex I have is never meaningless. It always has a point.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “Like getting off the best way I can,” she said with a broad smile.

  I sighed and took another bite of my salad. In truth, I was a little scared, but more than that, I simply wasn’t ready. I’d never met someone who made me feel comfortable enough to take that step with. And with all the literature I read on how the first time hurts like hell for many women, it ingrained in me a certain level of fear of it. As I got older and graduated from college, I got creative with my sex drive. I knew how my body worked and I knew the quickest way to fulfill the itch that arose, but other than that I didn’t need anything.

  Well, most of the time I didn’t.

  “I’m not scared,” I said.

  “I can see it on your face every time we talk about it. You’re terrified, Ava.”

  “I’m not scared, and I’m certainly not terrified, Camilla.”

  “It doesn't hurt. I know you think it does, but it doesn’t. And the initial hurt that comes with a first time instantly fades away and gives way to pleasure beyond your wildest imagination.”

  “So it does hurt,” I said.

  “I knew it. You don’t want to go through the pain of your first time, even if it means encountering a bliss you’ve never known.”

  “So what if I don’t want it to hurt? Who cares?”

  “It’s so much better than you can even imagine, Ava. The ecstasy you’re missing out on when a man kisses your neck. The shivers that roll up your spine when he’s lapping at your clit. The way your body begs for him and feels full when he slides into your—”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I said.

  “Getting turned on?” she asked.

  “No. Getting annoyed.”

  And turned on. But that was a different story.

  “You need to find you someone like Logan so you can lose your virginity, Ava. It really is time.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I said.

  “Why? You’re hot. If I was a guy, I’d do you. You’ve got that cute little petite thing going on. You're small, but you pack curves in all the right places. You’ve got long black hair any man would want to fist. Your olive skin is begging for someone’s lips, and your blue eyes sparkle even in the dark. You’d drive a man fucking crazy.”

  I grinned. “Sounds like I drive you crazy.”

  “Like I sa
id, I’d do you in a heartbeat. But you're my best friend and I don’t want to take your virginity.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head before I took another bite of my salad.

  “Ava, you can legally drink but you haven’t had sex. Something’s wrong with that. Drunken sex is marvelous, by the way. The man lasts for hours.”

  “That sounds like it hurts.”

  “Get some silicon-based lube and it won’t. Logan and I use it all the time during our drunken encounters. I swear, that stuff could help slip a camel into the eye of an unthreaded needle,” she said.

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “Oh, don’t get me started on dangerous. Logan’s got this thing for exhibitionism, but he doesn’t ever want people seeing me that vulnerable.”

  “What and what?” I asked.

  “He really likes to play with me in booth seats. You know, under the tablecloth and stuff.”

  “OMG! Get the hell out of here. You two would be arrested if you were caught.”

  “That’s the thrill of it,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “That’s gross.”

  “Oh, it’s so hot. Having to bite down on my lower lip while his fingers slide into my—”

  “Gross. It sounds like you needed to call him for this lunch instead of me. Are you getting close to your period? You get like this when you’re close to your period.”

  “You need to get laid, Ava, and I’m going to help you do it.”

  “No, you’re not. And no, I don’t. This is my virginity and it’s going to happen when I decide, not you,” I said.

  “If that’s the case, it’ll never happen,” she said.

  “Then that’s my call. It’s not yours, and it’s not anyone else’s.”

  “Are you really scared, Ava? I mean truthfully. As a concerned best friend, if you are, that isn’t healthy.”

  “Camilla, can we drop this please?” I asked.

  “Are you really a virgin?”

  “What? Of course I am.”

  “No, I mean physically. You weren’t, you know…”

  I furrowed my brow and then scoffed when I understood. “No, I wasn’t sexually traumatized in any way, Camilla. I just don’t want to have sex.”

  “See, that’s a lie. I know it is because I’ve walked into your apartment and heard you masturbating very loudly on numerous occasions.”

  “So what!? Just because I mastur—” I cleared my throat and brought my voice down, painfully aware of how people were openly staring at us. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but some people aren’t sex fiends like you are,” I said.

  “Because they’ve never had sex with Logan. I swear, if you got someone as good as he is in bed, especially with the girth that man has swinging between his legs, you would never go back. You’d lie in bed and do whatever that man asked just as long as he put it in you.”

  I shook my head and groaned.

  “Kill me now, please,” I said.

  “Sorry. You’re stuck with me a little while longer, because we’re getting dessert.”

  “Dessert? Are we celebrating something?”

  “We’re celebrating you eventually losing your virginity.”

  “I’m going to punch you in the tit.”

  “And then we’ll talk more about how you’re going to lose your V-card,” she said.

  “Camilla, please stop. Please? I’m begging you. Just stop.”

  “I begged Logan to stop last night, too, and he didn’t—thank God.”

  I shook my head as she giggled and took spoonful of soup.

  “It’s not a big deal. Just lose it already. We’ll find you a nice guy for the evening. It’ll be swift and quick. You’ll have your first real orgasm from a real guy, and then we can see how you feel after that.”

  “No, we won’t,” I said.

  “You think on it. Then we can talk.”

  “Done and no. Next subject please.”

  “Trust me. That word doesn’t always mean what you think it means when electricity is taking over your body,” she said.

  I shook my head and gnawed on the inside of my cheek to keep from getting angrier at her. I loved my best friend. I really did. But when she got on this topic, it was like trying to free a tick from a dog’s asshole. It didn’t matter why I wasn’t having sex. The point was, I wasn’t having sex because it was my choice. Yes, I was scared. I didn’t want it to hurt. But more than that, I didn’t want to open myself up to the world of emotions that came with having sex with someone, that came with being vulnerable, naked, and entering the throes of something so personal with someone I hardly knew. I wanted romance. I wanted passion. I wanted a true connection with someone before I stripped down for them and spread my legs.

  Why was that such a bad thing?

  “You’re thinking,” Camilla said.

  “Yes, I am,” I said.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “The scenario surrounding my first time.”

  “I knew it! You’re considering it. Tell Mama Camilla the fantasy. Set it up for me. I want to picture it.”

  She closed her eyes and propped her chin up on her hands, her elbows on the edge of the table.

  “I want candlelight and rose petals.”

  “Oh, romance. That’s always a nice start,” she said.

  “I want soft conversation and a bit of laughter. Lounging back on a bed with a glass of wine or something. I want it to be dark, nighttime—with moonlight pouring through the curtains. Maybe a nice hotel room with a honeymoon suite option.

  “I want him to reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I want him to gaze into my eyes and tell me how beautiful he thinks I am, how smart and wonderful I am to him, how lucky he is to be with me.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “I want his first kiss to be delicate, soft, like he’s waiting for my approval. I want it to be slow, deft. I want soft kisses on my skin and my clothes delicately removed. I want him to tell me how beautiful he thinks I am, how special he wants to make things. I want him to go slow, to understand the pain he’ll put me through.”

  Tears rushed my eyes as I fluttered them back open to find Camilla staring at me with tears in her own eyes. She reached over and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together as two slices of cake were set before us—two delicious slices of chocolate cake that went completely unnoticed as she read my thoughts.

  “He was a jerk, Ava. Michael was an absolute jerk,” she said.

  “I know we dated for a few months, but I never felt comfortable. He always felt entitled to it, Camilla, like he owned it because I was his girlfriend. But it was never his. It was always mine. I guard it closely because I know what it feels like to have a man think he owns you.”

  “I’m going to kill him. You know that, right?”

  “He’s not worth it. It was over a year ago. But I carry that weight with me because I want my first time to be right. It’s something I want to give to the right person because it seems right, not because someone feels entitled to it.”

  Camilla nodded as she slid her thumb across the skin of my hand.

  “Then we’ll find you someone,” she said.

  “Camilla—”

  “On your own time, I know. But I think Michael has more of a hold on you than you realize. You’re not just scared of the pain, Ava. You’re scared of it not meaning anything, and it was Michael who implanted that idea in you. You’re holding yourself back from experiencing it because he still has a hold on you. That is just as unhealthy.”

  “You know, when you’re not being immature as hell, you really do have some wise advice,” I said.

  “On your time, I promise, but I think this has less to do with the pain and more to do with Michael. Don’t let him hold you back from something as beautiful as sex. It can bring an entirely different dimension into your world that you can’t unlock yourself. There’s no orgasm like the one a man can give you. Not because he’s superior, but because our bodi
es were made to be with one.”

  I nodded as I pulled my hand away from hers.

  “I’ll think about it, okay?” I said.

  “Good. And in the meantime, we can devour this chocolate cake, because God Almighty, it looks delicious.”

  Logan

  “Hey there, man.”

  “I was wondering when the hell you’d show up,” Hunter said.

  My best friend stood and clapped me on the back. It had been weeks since the two of us had been able to carve out some time to get drinks together. I settled down in the chair at the table he had reserved for us, then glanced at the empty chair Camilla should have been sitting in.

  “Where’s the lady friend? I thought she was coming out tonight,” Hunter said.

  “Another late night at work,” I said.

  “That woman works way too hard for a bartender at a strip joint.”

  “Well, they did just promote her to assistant manager of both the bar and the activities during the shows, so it doesn't shock me that she’s spending more time there than usual.”

  “Does that promotion come with a pay raise? Or the option to dance?”

  “Hey. That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” I said.

  “And let me be real, we’ve been to her place of work a few times. You’ve seen how she eyes those dancers, and I’m not entirely sure she’s eyeing them for play. I think she wants to be up there dancing. And you know she’s got the body to—”

  “Hunter.”

  “I’m just saying, with that fiery red hair and those bright green eyes? She’d have men drooling all over her. She’s got to know she’d rake in a hell of a lot more money dancing than bartending.”