Just Friends by Roxanne Riley

Chapter Two

Trent

I crouch in the bushes, out of sight of the enemy, rifle clutched in my hands. I’m on my last clip of ammo, and they’re closing in on me. I don’t have much time left, so I steel myself and get ready to spring…

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rings, startling me from my game. “I got it, I’m already up,” my roommate, Mason, calls from the kitchen, to my relief.

I’ve got less than two minutes left in this online match, and I’m hoping that’s just enough time to redeem myself. Mason makes his way to the door, but I’ve tuned back into the game and I’m only half paying attention until I hear him exclaim “Holy shit!”

I glance up again in time to see him throwing his arms around someone short, but over his hulking frame, I can’t make out who it is. But when I hear the peal of laughter and responding exclamation of “Surprise!” I immediately know exactly who it is and I abandon the Xbox controller.

“Lizzy!”

I race over and Mason reluctantly peels away from her so I can throw my arms around her. “Holy fuck, what are you doing here?” I ask her in shock.

“I’m moving here!” she exclaims excitedly, “I’ve got an apartment over off of Providence Street, and I’ve got three job interviews lined up this week.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mason asks, “You didn’t have to go and get an apartment, we’ve got space here.”

“Or is it not just you moving here?” I ask hesitantly, remembering the rather serious boyfriend she was living with.

“No, it’s just me,” she says, shaking her head, “Which is kind of why I got the apartment. I kind of just need some space to myself for a while. And besides, I wanted to surprise you guys. It’s been so hard keeping this quiet.”

“How long have you known?” Mason wonders aloud.

“About two weeks,” she admits sheepishly.

“Impressive,” I laugh.

Secret-keeping is not exactly Lizzy’s strong suit, especially when she’s excited about something. Christmases and birthdays make her squirm, and half the time she ends up spilling the beans in spite of her very best efforts.

Not that she’s not trustworthy, she can be a vault when it comes to secrets not her own.

“Come on in, grab a seat,” I usher her inside.

I hastily snatch the controller from off the floor and shut the game off. My abandonment of the game had led my character to a bloody death, and the ending score was atrocious, but I’d never cared less.

Lizzy grabs a seat on the couch in the spot I’d vacated moments before, and I take a moment to drink in the sight of her and fully appreciate what I’m seeing. She’s always been attractive, the pretty blonde girl-next-door type, but apparently she’d spent the last few years really growing into that figure and turned into an absolute bombshell.

She’s still petite, probably at least a foot shorter than me or Mason, if not more, and her frame sports thick, lush curves. Her face is mostly bare, although she’s got something on her eyes that makes the bright blue orbs stand out, and there’s a light pink sheen of gloss on her full lips.

I wonder if it’s a flavored gloss, and if strawberry is still her favorite. All throughout college, she always had a strawberry lip balm in her pocket or her purse, no matter where she went or what she was doing. And that was usually her go-to flavor when it came to ice cream, candy, whatever.

But a lot can change in five years.

“So why the sudden decision to move?” I ask, sitting down beside her.

Mason rolls his eyes, “Were you raised in a barn? Honestly?” he scoffs at me, then turns to our guest, “Lizzy, would you like anything to eat or drink or anything before you get interrogated?”

Lizzy giggles, and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “I assumed she would just say something, she knows our place is as good as hers.”

“Aww. You guys don’t have to make a fuss over me, I can get it,” she said, getting to her feet, “My tailbone’s sore from all the hours in the car anyway, walking does me good.”

I can’t help but watch her as she walks off to the kitchen. The sway of her hips is intoxicating, and sore or not, her ass is magnificent. Her long blonde braid almost brushes the top of it, and I can imagine myself wrapping that thick, silken rope around my wrist to pull her closer, brush my lips over that pretty neck…

“Trent?” her voice snaps me out of my fantasy and I look up, hoping the thoughts aren’t clear as day on my face.

“What’s up?”

“I asked if you wanted anything from the kitchen,” she repeats.

“I think the old man needs his hearing checked,” Mason teases.

I’m only about six months older than he is, but we rib each other about it, with me teasing him about his youth and naivety and him cracking feeble old man jokes.

“I’m good, thanks,” I tell Lizzy, ignoring Mason.

I can’t believe she’s seriously here. And from the sound of it, she’s single. I’d kind of been worried she was going to end up marrying that douchebag. Davey, or Danny or something?

She’d seemed kind of serious about him, and they’d been living together for about three years, so I’d thought he was going to end up being the anchor chaining her to Montana forever. I wonder what’s changed.

She comes back out with a can of soda, and I smile to myself. Strawberry Fanta.

I guess some things never change.

“So, to answer your question from before,” she tells me, taking a sip, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” I assure her.

She sits back down beside me and Mason settles into his favorite chair. “Well, it actually started when I got offered a promotion,” she explains.

Mason’s brow furrows in confusion. “Like a transfer or something?”

“Nope, just a regular promotion. It was a really good offer, in fact, lots of benefits. But right away, I hesitated. So I told them I’d think about it, and my plan was to go home and talk to Danny about it.”

So it was Danny. I’d never actually met the guy face-to-face, but just based on what Lizzy had told me about him, I didn’t like the guy. I probably would have hated anyone she was with, just on principle, but I could forgive someone who treated her better.

“Well, Danny didn’t end up being an issue, we broke up later that afternoon,” she says flatly.

“What happened?” Mason asks sympathetically.

“We just wanted different things,” she says with a casual shrug, “I wanted to move away from the state, he wanted to screw other women.”

“Ouch,” Mason and I both wince.

Lizzy nods, taking another sip from her soda can. “Yep. Walked in on him fucking his ex-girlfriend in our bed.”

I put an arm around her and give her a squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs, but I can see a little lingering hurt in her eyes. “I’m better off without him,” she says, “And it was the catalyst I finally needed to get out of there. I took all of my stuff and got a hotel for a few days to figure out a game plan.”

“I hope by all of your stuff you mean you left him in an empty apartment,” Mason mutters.

Lizzy shakes her head. “No, actually. I left pretty much all of the stuff we picked out for that place. I wanted to make a clean break, I don’t need the furniture or the dishes I got with my ex-boyfriend, you know? I just took what was mine. Well…and all the batteries out of all the remotes. And the can opener.”

I snickered. “Was that all you did for revenge?”

“No,” she admits with a laugh, “When I went to get my stuff, he left me alone in the place, so I got a package of five of those super-fine glitter shakers. I got on the stepladder and opened each of those little canisters on one of the blades of the ceiling fan, so next time he turns it on, he’s going to be showered in a rainbow tornado of glitter.”

By the time she’s finished her story, Mason and I are both howling with laughter at the mental image. As pranks go, it’s a damn good one. It could be weeks before her ex notices.

It kind of reminds me why Lizzy and I always hit it off so much. She’s clever and funny, and tough as nails. I’ve seen her bounce back from situations where other people might crumble, with a smile on her face.

It takes a few minutes for Mason and I to pull ourselves together, but eventually the laughter dies down enough so she can tell us the rest of her story. “I decided that this was where I wanted to be, so I quit my job, started sending out my resume here, got an apartment, and…well, here I am.”

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” Mason says, “Anything promising on the job front?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’ve actually got three interviews set up this week, plus another two e-mails from interested places. I guess having a little bit of experience has opened some doors for me.”

“Good, let’s keep you here this time!” he exclaims.

We’d tried to talk her into staying with us until she could find work before, but she wasn’t comfortable “being a sponge,” despite the fact that we both offered. So when she’d gotten that stupid offer hundreds of miles away, we’d just had to watch her go.

I can’t speak for Mason, but I know I sure as hell don’t have any intention of letting her go a second time.