1. Emzee #2
I nodded, even though it was a lie. I was exhausted, and as much as I appreciated the sight of a cleanly shaven Ford in a tux with his hair smoothed back, smelling of cedar-esque cologne, I would honestly rather be spending the evening watching Netflix at home with my best friend, in a well-worn shirt and soft, broken-in jeans.
The ones that molded to his ass perfectly.
It was hard to say what part of his body I liked the most. Those broad shoulders were the best for leaning on, and his big, strong arms made for some amazing hugs when they were wrapped around you.
I guess he was just all around flawless.
He was the kind of guy who took pride in the way he looked.
He didn’t spend all day at the gym, but he was athletic and strong.
Then again, I really loved those dimples. Maybe they were the best part of him. I always fought the desire to kiss them.
Aaand I was definitely a little drunk. These were the kinds of thoughts I allowed myself to entertain when I was alone in my bed at night with my trusty vibrator. My only lover, ever.
It was probably a little pathetic, being a virgin at twenty-three, but ever since I secretly gave my heart to Ford back in high school, I hadn’t been able to find anyone that even came close to living up to him and the depth of our relationship.
Sure, I’d had a few orgasms with guys, and I loved a good blowjob, but I just wasn’t a casual sex kind of person.
I was still stubbornly saving myself for someone I loved.
Someone special. I didn’t care that I was being either childishly romantic or stupidly old-fashioned about it. It was my choice.
“Thanks again for coming,” Ford said, but he wasn’t looking at me as he spoke.
His eyes were scanning the crowd. I knew he was looking for his mom, doing his damnedest to avoid her attempts to get him and Claudia back together, but I still felt invisible.
He hadn’t even noticed that I’d been moody all evening—quiet and subdued and lacking my usual snarky sense of humor. It was something he’d normally remark on, but Ford was instead completely focused on himself and on hiding from his family.
Despite that, he seemed to be having a great time.
“Did you see the Bohlins?” he asked with a smirk. “They’re having a massive fight over by the ice sculpture.”
“Which one?” I asked, not really caring.
“The swan.” Ford put his hand on my shoulder—the bare one—and turned me in the direction of the quarreling couple.
I did my best not to shiver at his touch.
“One hundred bucks, Mr. B gets stabbed with the swan’s beak before the end of the evening. I think it’s something to do with the au pair.”
“Their British nanny?” Even though I was annoyed with him, I couldn’t help smiling.
“That’s the one. I’m going to get another drink,” Ford said.
His glass was somehow empty already, but so was mine.
“I’ll get us both a refill,” he said, plucking my glass from my fingers.
I didn’t need another drink and I really didn’t want Ford to abandon me again, but he was gone before I could stop him.
Watching him get joyfully waylaid by some friends, I realized he might be gone for a long time.
Well. I couldn’t really be mad at him. We weren’t here together on an actual date or anything, so there was no need for him to stay glued to my side.
But that didn’t mean I had to keep torturing myself like this.
No more, I told myself. You can’t keep being his second-string, doing him favors like this left and right. This is the last time.
After tonight, I would have a talk with him. I’d make it clear that we needed to have better boundaries in our friendship, so it involved less of me being constantly at his beck and call and more of a 50-50 thing. I wouldn’t keep running to him at the drop of a hat.
Suddenly, though, Ford was next to me again. He didn’t have anything in his hand, so something must have happened on his way to the bar. It didn’t take long to realize what that was.
His mother, trailed by two of his gossipy aunts and some family friends, was bee-lining straight for us.
“Shit,” he said under his breath, before turning on the charming smile I knew so well. “Mother,” he said smoothly as she approached. “Happy Birthday. You look gorgeous.”
“Happy Birthday, Mrs. Malone,” I chimed in.
She ignored me, leaning forward to allow Ford to bestow a kiss on either cheek.
“Goodness, Ford darling, where’s Claudia?” she asked, blinking innocently after making sure to give me a disapproving once-over.
Ford sighed. “Mom,” he said. “I’ve told you a hundred times, we broke up.”
“Did you?” she asked. “I must have forgotten.”
I held back an eye roll at the blatant lie.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Malone turned to her other family members. “Oh, to be young again,” she said. “Don’t you remember all the romantic theatrics we put our parents through?”
“It’s not theatrics,” Ford said.
“Well, of course you’d tell yourselves that, but it doesn’t mean it’s truly over.” His mother pouted, quite the feat for someone who’d had as much plastic surgery as her.
“Please, stop,” Ford said. “Claudia and I are finished. I’m over her and I’ve moved on with my life. I suggest you do the same.”
I felt Ford moving closer to me. This was where the protecting came in—if Mrs. Malone didn’t let up, it would be my job to make up an excuse and politely drag Ford away with me.
“Moved on?” Ford’s mother repeated, her eyes narrowing.
“That’s what I said,” he told her.
And then suddenly, his arm wrapped tight around my waist, and I was being pulled hard against his lean, muscular body.
“I’m with Emzee now.”