Adam *Best Friend*

The fact is: I’m an asshole. No matter how hard I try to be a good friend, I manage to do something to fuck it up. Girls just put me in this fucking state of mind that I don’t give a shit about anyone and all I think about is myself, or more specifically my dick. Not every girl, one girl in particular. Addison Lima. Fucking Addison.

         The facts are as follows. Addison is absolutely fucking gorgeous. She’s the kind of girl that you dream of, she has the body of a Victoria’s Secret model. She’s not an idiot; I can actually have conversations with her, which despite popular belief is important to me. God, she’s fucking adorable. I just want to hug up on her all night.  She’s got that natural beauty too, it’s not like she has to try. There’s no caked on makeup, it’s like the Addison you wake up with is the same Addison you go out with. Fucking gorgeous.  She’s hot even when she’s wearing sweatpants. Not even to mention that she can ride a man silly and she gives head like no other.

         The problem, of course there’s a problem, right? The problem is that she’s dating my best friend. Fuck that, they’re getting married. Not yet, he just got the ring. He’s planning on getting down on the dreaded knee within the next month or so.  I knew that he’s getting ready to propose, I fucking went with him to pick out the ring. But that didn’t stop me.  It’s like I can’t even fucking control myself. I’m a fucking cave man.

         It’s not like I’m in love with her. I mean, I had my chance years ago but I let it go. He’s in love with her. He’s a good guy, the kind of guy that actually falls in love and knows who to treat girls. I have no idea how to treat girls, or best friends for that matter.  She loves him. It’s so fucking obvious. They’re like that perfect couple that makes you believe that love actually exists. And I’m the one that can fuck it all up. 

Scene:   The Stairwell

         “I’m going to tell him.”

         I need to sit down. We’re in the stairwell of the club her fiancé is doing a show at. He’s just about to go on and she grabbed my arm, pulling me out into the stairwell. It would have been a lot fucking easier if she had told me before the five SoCo and limes I just had.

         “You can’t fucking tell him,” I ran my hands through my brown hair and looked up at her. Addison Lima, fucking Addison. She’s pacing around the small square of linoleum at the bottom of the stairs like it’s her job.

         “I need to tell him, I can’t marry him hiding this.”

         “No, you can’t tell him. You’re drunk, you’re not thinking.”

         “I’m not drunk!”

         I took a deep breath, this isn’t happening. “Stop pacing, you’re making me fucking nervous.”

         She stopped and sat down on the stairs, “You’re making yourself nervous, you’re fucking paranoid. You would want to know, wouldn’t you want to know?”

         “No.”

         Addison threw her head back, taking a deep breath. She’s ready to kill me, “How would you not want to know?”

         “He’s going to be pissed, you know that. He’s not just going to be, that sucks let’s move on. He’s going to be fucking pissed. I’m telling you Addison, FUCKING PISSED.”

         “I know!” she punched me in the arm, “Obviously I know, don’t act like you know him better than I do.”

         “No one knows him better than you do,” I answered under my breath. Because they’re fucking perfect for each other, which is why she sure as hell should not tell him.

         “Well then good, I’m telling him. He needs to know.”

         “He doesn’t need to know! He doesn’t want to know, and you know that.”

         “No, I don’t, and neither do you. He needs to fucking know and I’m driving myself crazy. Like I have issues, like I can’t stop fucking thinking about how I fucked up and he needs to know.”

         My head fell to my hands as I looked over at her. She is driving herself crazy but hell, telling Justin that we kissed a fucking year ago sure as hell won’t solve the issue. “Are you telling him for him or for you? “

“Don’t pull that psycho bullshit on me. I’m telling him because he deserves to know and I need to get it off my chest so I’m not killing myself over it.”

         Right, that’s the perfect reason to tell him, so she doesn’t kill herself over it. I don’t know why she thinks once she tells him it’s going to be all honky dory. He’s going to freak the fuck out. “Well I don’t think you should tell him, for the record.”

         “I don’t give a fuck what you think, I’m telling him.”

         I took another deep breath and stood up, leaning against the railing, “Then why the hell did you bring me out here while your fucking fiancé is about to go on stage?”

         “I don’t know, I thought you’d want to know.”

         “Yeah, so I can get a bodyguard and leave town?” he’s going to kill me, probably murder me. I don’t blame him; I’d kill me too. I’ll let him do it; I won’t even put up a fight. “Tell him it was me.”

         “What?”

         “Blame it on me. I’m telling you Addison, he’s not going to just forgive you. He loves you, you love him, but he’s not going to be able to just move on. He’s had issues with us since he found out we hooked up years before you even met him. It’s not going to work. I’ll take all the blame, you guys are perfect for each other, tell him it was all me.”

         She didn’t answer me right away. When I looked over at her she had her eyes close and I swear I saw a few tears coming from them. I can’t deal with this shit, I don’t know hot to handle tears. “I’m not going to blame you.”

         “Why not? It was me.”

         “It was both of us. It was a fucking drunk kiss, it’s not like we hooked up, and we could have. We could have done a lot worse. He’ll get over it. It’ll suck and he’ll be pissed for a while, but he’ll be able to move on. He loves me too much.”

         “He does,” I agreed. There’s no doubt in my mind that he loves her more than anything. He’d put up his life for her. But he also has trust issues. I just hope it’s true what they say and love conquers all.