Thursday , May 19 2022

My Best Friend’s Girl

I have known Rick since we were seven years old. We are completely different people but we have stayed best friends. Rick is smart and ambitious. He is handsome and good with the ladies. I have always envied his charm. He seems to attract women without even trying. I am more of a quiet person. I enjoy being alone with a book or a movie. I have accepted the fact that I will never be cool or part of the “in crowd.” Still, Rick and I have always been tight. There is a bond between us that I don’t understand but I know exists.

Over the years, Rick’s taste in women has been awful. With the wide variety that he had to pick from, I never understood why he chose the ones he did. He always picked the air heads and the bimbos. Fake boobs, too much make-up, and really big hair. That was Rick’s type. I don’t know, maybe with his ambition he just wanted something that looked good and wasn’t a threat to him.

A few years ago, Rick called and said that he had met someone new and wanted the three of us to go out for dinner. We agreed to meet at our favorite Italiam restaurant at 8:00 that night. While I was waiting for them to arrive (Rick is always late) I tried to imagine what this new girlfriend would be like. I thought she would be like the rest – tall, blonde, big boobs, long legs, and no personality. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Rick walked in with a petite, dark-haired, dark-eyed, Asian woman. He introduced her simply as Amy. I was dumbstruck. Amy was beautiful. She couldn’t have been any taller than 5’3”. She had shoulder length black hair with a few brown highlights. Her eyes were big and brown. She had a tiny little body with full, natural breasts. I could not believe how beautiful she was. She didn’t wear any make-up. Her skin was smooth and flawless. I must have starring but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

As we ate, I was repeatedly shocked by what I learned about her. She was a second grade school teacher. She lived at home with her mother. She read and wrote poetry in her spare time. She even went to church every Sunday with her mother. She seemed shy and innocent. This was the kind of girl that you just instinctively try to protect. Amy was not Rick’s type of girl. This was my type of girl.

It’s difficult to say when I first realized that I was in love with Amy. I just looked up one day and knew. Of course, it was wrong. Rick was my best friend and he loved her. It went against everything I thought was right. There was no possible way for Amy and me to be together but it was all I could think about. I thought about her laugh. I thought about her smile. And yes, I thought about her soft lips and her perfect body. I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

Slowly, Amy and I had grown close. One of our favorite pastimes was for the three of us to go to the local sports bar. Amy and I would talk about books or current events while Rick would catch the highlight reel on the TV. I loved those talks with Amy. She was so smart and funny. I would sit across the table and wonder why someone who was so perfect for me could be so unattainable.

It hurt Amy to think of me being alone. She tried to set me up a few times with her friends but I always turned her down. “I’m still hurting,” I would say. Amy thought I was talking about my last disastrous relationship but really I was referring to her. I felt like I could never love anyone else. For me, there was only Amy.

My birthday is in the middle of June. I hate to work on my birthday so I always take a weeks vacation. Of course, Rick and all my other friends had to work so we agreed to have my birthday party on Saturday.

On Thursday, I slept in. I had no plans and no obligations. I took a long hot shower and looked forward to a quiet day alone. I sat on the sofa and turned on the TV. I really just wanted something to distract me from my thoughts of Amy. Lately I had begun to fantasize about her almost constantly. I wanted her so much that it hurt.

The doorbell rang at about 1:00. When I opened the door, Amy was standing there with a huge smile and a bottle of wine in each hand. She looked amazing. She was wearing white, short shorts that showed off her smooth, tan legs. She had on a purple T-shirt that must have been two sizes too small because it revealed every curve of her body. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

“Happy Birthday!” She came bouncing through the door and gave me a big hug. I wanted to just hold on and never let her go. Her breasts were pressing into my chest and I could feel her heart beat. I was too overcome to even say anything. I felt my usual pang of love and guilt. I just wanted her, nothing else, just her.

Amy grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen. She was bubbling over with enthusiasm. As she used the corkscrew to open the wine, she looked at me and said, ” I couldn’t let you spend your birthday alone. You need to spend your special days with the people you love.”

All I could think to say was, “I am now.” She smiled at me and handed me a glass of very good Chardonnay. We moved back into the living room and got comfortable on the sofa. I loved being there alone with her. It seemed to be more intimate then any other time in my life. I was alone with the woman I loved. That was all I cared about.

We were good enough friends that we could relax and enjoy a quiet conversation. She turned the stereo on played one of my favorite jazz CD’s. “Rick never wants to listen to any good music,” she said. It was a beautiful moment. Nice wine. Nice music. Nice company.

“I wish you would let me fix you up with someone. You need someone special in you life. Someone to take care of you.” This was a familar topic between us. I answered int he usual way.

“I’m just not ready. I haven’t gotten over the last girl yet.” I couldn’t help but stare into her eyes when I said that. I wished that somehow she would be able to see that I was talking about her. In some ways I was afraid that she would know, so I added, “Besides, I thought you were going to take care of me.”

She laughed, “There are some things that I can’t do for you.”

I couldn’t help it. I looked down at her breasts and said, “That’s too bad.” We had never flirted like this before. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the moment. but I felt that she finally understood that I loved her.

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