Read Her Little White Lie (BWWM Romance) for Free Online Page B
Authors: Cj Howard
eternity.
His body was jammed up against me and it was all I could do to stop myself from adjusting mine to a more comfortable position for making out, but instead I cleared my throat.
“I thought you were buying me lunch?”
“I am.”
He sprang to his feet and started looking for something. I sat up and fixed my hair so it was neat again. I looked over to Mikey who found a thick, V-neck sweater and pulled it over his head. He sat on the side of his bed and put on a pair of socks. I stood on the opposite side of the bed looking down at the thick but sophisticated neck as he bent to pull on his shoes. I could reach out and stroke it, his hair too, but what was I thinking? This was Mikey, my best friend and he'd run a mile if I went weird on him. I was weirding my own self out.
I sat to pull my boots back on.
“My jacket is in the bathroom,” I said opening the bedroom door.
“I put it on the sofa,” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied. We were being very civilized and I was feeling very confused.
Mikey treated me to a burger and asked if I wanted to come back to his place so we could continue to hang out.
“What time do the other guys get back?”
“They won't be back until much later. They're off doing their Christmas shopping. Frank will be at Macy's and Stewie will be at the thrift store. Both going to visit family for the holidays.”
“What about you? You going home to Boston again this year?”
“Not sure, I might have plans but then again it all depends.”
“Depends on what?” I asked as I grabbed for my last fry before he could demolish it, the way he always did,
“I might have other arrangements but they need to be confirmed.”
I left it at that. Like I said, Mikey never said much about what was happening in his life and I knew not to push it. If there was anything he wanted to tell me, he'd do it in his own time. In Mikey time.
We walked back to his place and Mikey had his arm around my shoulder. I put my arm around his waist for a change and we walked like that for the few blocks back to his apartment. I noticed how girls were looking at us, smiling at me as though they approved of my choice in boyfriend. That was what it felt like. Like Mikey was my boyfriend because out of nowhere it was beginning to feel like he was or that maybe he could be.
We had always hung out together, we were best friends, we knew each other's family background, favorite book, movie, color, star sign, and birthday. Heck, Mikey even knew my menstrual cycle. There was only one thing missing from this picture. He wasn't into me the way I was increasingly getting into him the more time I spent in his company.
I was into Mikey.
Back at his apartment, we played poker. I normally always beat him at poker because he had such an obvious show. This time I was too busy looking at the way his hair had no particular parting, at his wide hands that were still quite gentlemanly at the same time, and the way he pouted when he was thinking, he beat me hands down and was back to whacking me over the head with a pillow.
“Stop, Mikey.”
“Don't be a sore loser,” he grinned back at me.
“I'm not. You won fair and square, I just forgot to tell you something else about Mr. Iglesias.”
“What?”
“He said I should keep the ring.”
“Didn't I tell you?”
“I know, but I'm keeping it because he's my friend. He appreciates my friendship and values my opinions and listens to what I have to say.”
“Of course he appreciates you, Grace.”
We had been sitting on the floor in the living room to play cards. Mikey got all serious and was leaning very close to me as he spoke. Our eyes were locked together.
“He appreciates your honesty, your kindness, your humility and your strength,” he said, closer still.
“All the things I appreciate in you, Grace. Never change.”
“I
His body was jammed up against me and it was all I could do to stop myself from adjusting mine to a more comfortable position for making out, but instead I cleared my throat.
“I thought you were buying me lunch?”
“I am.”
He sprang to his feet and started looking for something. I sat up and fixed my hair so it was neat again. I looked over to Mikey who found a thick, V-neck sweater and pulled it over his head. He sat on the side of his bed and put on a pair of socks. I stood on the opposite side of the bed looking down at the thick but sophisticated neck as he bent to pull on his shoes. I could reach out and stroke it, his hair too, but what was I thinking? This was Mikey, my best friend and he'd run a mile if I went weird on him. I was weirding my own self out.
I sat to pull my boots back on.
“My jacket is in the bathroom,” I said opening the bedroom door.
“I put it on the sofa,” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied. We were being very civilized and I was feeling very confused.
Mikey treated me to a burger and asked if I wanted to come back to his place so we could continue to hang out.
“What time do the other guys get back?”
“They won't be back until much later. They're off doing their Christmas shopping. Frank will be at Macy's and Stewie will be at the thrift store. Both going to visit family for the holidays.”
“What about you? You going home to Boston again this year?”
“Not sure, I might have plans but then again it all depends.”
“Depends on what?” I asked as I grabbed for my last fry before he could demolish it, the way he always did,
“I might have other arrangements but they need to be confirmed.”
I left it at that. Like I said, Mikey never said much about what was happening in his life and I knew not to push it. If there was anything he wanted to tell me, he'd do it in his own time. In Mikey time.
We walked back to his place and Mikey had his arm around my shoulder. I put my arm around his waist for a change and we walked like that for the few blocks back to his apartment. I noticed how girls were looking at us, smiling at me as though they approved of my choice in boyfriend. That was what it felt like. Like Mikey was my boyfriend because out of nowhere it was beginning to feel like he was or that maybe he could be.
We had always hung out together, we were best friends, we knew each other's family background, favorite book, movie, color, star sign, and birthday. Heck, Mikey even knew my menstrual cycle. There was only one thing missing from this picture. He wasn't into me the way I was increasingly getting into him the more time I spent in his company.
I was into Mikey.
Back at his apartment, we played poker. I normally always beat him at poker because he had such an obvious show. This time I was too busy looking at the way his hair had no particular parting, at his wide hands that were still quite gentlemanly at the same time, and the way he pouted when he was thinking, he beat me hands down and was back to whacking me over the head with a pillow.
“Stop, Mikey.”
“Don't be a sore loser,” he grinned back at me.
“I'm not. You won fair and square, I just forgot to tell you something else about Mr. Iglesias.”
“What?”
“He said I should keep the ring.”
“Didn't I tell you?”
“I know, but I'm keeping it because he's my friend. He appreciates my friendship and values my opinions and listens to what I have to say.”
“Of course he appreciates you, Grace.”
We had been sitting on the floor in the living room to play cards. Mikey got all serious and was leaning very close to me as he spoke. Our eyes were locked together.
“He appreciates your honesty, your kindness, your humility and your strength,” he said, closer still.
“All the things I appreciate in you, Grace. Never change.”
“I