The
Arrangement
Olivia Fox
Published by
Olivia Fox at Smashwords
Copywrite
Olivia Fox 2013
Smashwords
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1.
As soon as I say it I want to take it back. "I'm kidding,
silly! That's not the only reason," I laugh in a way that's way too
stiff, and when he arches an eyebrow to say go on , I just dig my grave even
deeper. "Of course there's other stuff I love about you. I mean...
You're fucking beautiful... And..." But that's as far as I can go.
It shouldn't be this hard to tell him why I love him. I tell my
girl friends all the time. So why can't I do the same for Harry,
instead of sounding like some shallow bitch.
His face is
stony serious. Lily's squirming like she's about to make some lame
excuse and leave. And Cayley's mouth has been a perfect O shape for
the past minute, while her eyes ping-pong between me and Harry, AKA
my fuck buddy. AKA my boss.
I don't blame her. Even if she is starting to look like some weird
cock-hungry sex doll. She's right to be staring like that. Because
Harry never gets ruffled. Never. And it's not like I've never joked
about his XL cock in front of the girls before. In fact, the more I
think about this, the more it seems he's blowing everything out of
all proportion. I complimented his cock and he's looking at me as
though I just flipped him the bird.
Lily grabs
Cayley's wrist to usher her out of the booth. "I'll get the next
round. Cayley, come help me carry."
Cayley neatens
her already perfect hair with her free hand, as Lily pulls her to
standing. But Harry stands too. Apparently he's not going to sit
around listening to me insult him with comments about his general
lusciousness any longer.
"Let's not do this, eh?!" He claws his fingers through those
perfect floppy blond curls, pulling them taut, away from eyes that
refuse to look at me. He nods goodbye to Lily and Cayley, then
almost says something to me, I think, but stops himself.
And I want to
say something too. I want shout out all those things I truly do
love about him - not about his huge dick, or his crazily
heart-melting smile, or his wall-like shoulders which just seem so
strong and male and perfect. But I don't, of course. I just sit
back and watch the best bloke I know as he digs his hands into his
pockets and walks away from me.
*****
Someone's
drilling my head. And it really fricking hurts.
"Em, wake up.
You're phone's driving me nuts," Lily yawns.
Oh - right -
not drilling - just my phone vibrating and a hangover-headache
splitting my skull in two. "Urgh. Why am I on the couch?"
Lily snorts.
"You crashed out and we couldn't shift you."
We? "Did Harry come back last
night?"
Why is she looking at me like that? Like Harry's dead and I
ought to know that but clearly I've got some kind of early onset
Alzheimer's. Or alcohol induced amnesia. Which sounds horribly
likely. God , is
Harry OK?!
"No, Harry left
the pub really early, hon. Cayley came back with us. She's in your
room," Lily says, her mouth twisting awkwardly like she doesn't
want to say the next bit. "I think you might want to give Harry a
call later."
"Why? Oh. God."
And now I remember. I recall the gist, if not the details. "Go on.
Tell me what I said. It was bad wasn't it? I know it was."
Lily's eyes
tighten thoughtfully like she's searching for the gentlest way to
let me have it. She needn't bother.
"Bad? It was
brutal." Cayley exclaims from the doorway, wrapped in my dressing
gown, which is about a billion inches too short for her tall lean
frame. She’s stunning. Which is yet another
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