A Tiny Favour

Chapter 5

I wander through the third floor hallway and excitedly knock on the door of my best friend, Ashton. He always loves getting all the details of the lives at the club, today he's going to be drinking up the tea while eating popcorn.

"Bitch spill," he demands the second the door swings open and crashes into a wall. I can see his clack and white counters, stainless steel appliances and wall plants.

He's always been a minimalist with a sweet spot for herb and spice plants. His layout is identical to mine with the same windows and arrangement, minus the island that has been replaced with a table.

Stepping in, I slide off my shoes onto the mat and jump onto his bed like I own the place, I practically live here anyway.

"They think Rob is going to propose. I just think he's going broke on watches," I start and instantly tell he's bored with the basic gossip.

"I want more important things," he waves his fingers the way a chef does with his index finger and thumb touching. He doesn't care for the basics, just the detailed and entertaining experiences. One of his favourites was the time Mr. Jones missed a put and smashed multiple windows with his putter and swore at his catty for breathing.

Another was when Tracy and I caught Dianna with a server doing the dirty in the bathroom and neither of them noticed us, the sound of the door opening cover with their own moans of pleasure.

"Nothing interesting happened," I shake my head and lean into the collection of pillows. He groans and puts his face in his lap. I wait a beat before continuing, "there was the One thing," he sprouts back up.

"Spill, Spill, Spill?" he chants. Looking closely at my face and studying me. His face is just inches away and his eyes bulge with excitement.

"So my uncle asked my dad for a favour but my dad is in Europe for a few months so he couldn't help. And asked moi." I point at myself, Ashton nods slowly waiting for it to get really interesting.

"Then what happened?"

"Thirty minutes later a six foot something, brunette tennis player showed up at my door in a tight T-shirt waiting for me to drive him to my country club." I glide my hands over my chest when I tell him what he's wearing. I leave out the part where I nearly collapsed at his appearance, I would have given anything and everything to run my fingers along his core at that exact second in time.

"Shut up," he pulls a pillow to his mouth, "Is he gay?"

"Doubt it," I answered, scrunching my nose with my smile. "Anyway we took my car and he offered to drive when he noticed I was terrified." Ashton aws and I slapped his shoulder with the back of my hand. Ashton knows I barely survived my drivers test and always beg him for a ride when I can. "We got there and I killed some time before my friends got there and talked to Edwin."

"How is she?" he asks softly.

"She's great, especially after today," I grip my hands in my lap. "She, as always, asked about a boyfriend, especially after I didnt get one for two weeks. She said 'I thought you got a life and a boyfriend'."

He breaks out laughing at me, his hair flying in front of his eyes as he snorts, "she's," laugh puff, "the best," he giggles out. I shake my head at his immaturity. Edwin and Ashton would have a ball if only he came to the country club. Or to him, the old sweaty lawyer convention.

"This is the really interesting part." I say like a hot stranger showing up at my door wasn't crazy enough.

I look around the room detouring the moment for as long as possible. My dress from brunch is hiked up to my thighs from sitting and I don't feel uncomfortable. My eyes wander to the gigantic wall sized bookshelf with brightly couloured series and standalones, half of which I recommended.

His mint plant is fully sprouted up on the coffee table, the vibrant green breaks through the stark shades of white, grey and black that engulf the space.

"What is it that happened?" His inquiry breaks through the silence of my thoughts. He stops breathing with excitement and I decided I can't hold this out much longer or he'll die.

His face is flustered at the dragging on and in anticipation.

"Well," I have another long gap in my sentence and he leans in, "I told Edwin that he was my boyfriend after I said I had one and didnt't and she saw him there and assumed," I blurt it all out in a split second and cover my mouth like I was six and just yelled 'fuck' infront of my parents.

"No."

"Yes."

"Did he find out?" he quickly continues, "who would have told him he doesn't know anyone there."

"Everyone knows him now," I chuckle in self pity.

"Because I told him, Edwin talked to him and when he left... She told the poor guy to kiss me because of some rule with her husband," I roll my eyes.

"Oh that's no big deal like the cheek, right?"

"Wrong," I exaggerate the word with my face incredibly close to his before I laugh, "that's what we thought and he kissed me here," I put my manicured nail to the spot. "She told him it wasn't good enough so when he implied I never kissed a guy I kissed him." I sound a little too proud with the last statement.

"Edwin you horny bitch," he squeezes his eyes shut with another laugh, "did you just peck him or more...?"

"Moreover, we practically made out, in the middle of the lobby, where not one, not two, but all three of my friends watched," my pride melted into shame and I stole the white pillow he hugs close to his chest to shield my face.

He goes silent. Completely lost for words. This has basically the same possibility of him being attracted to women since this man always has some snarky comment or question.

My lips purse as I chew at the inside of my cheek, eyes looking anywhere but his face. It's so quiet I hear the square clock with roman numerals ticking away.

"Was it hot?" he asks at a painting behind me, an abstract of a man only using the colour green.

"It was eh, I've had better and he said he had too," I tell him a funny part in the truth to break the awkward feeling I could cut with the dullest of knives.

"When do you see his face again? I need to meet him." I haven't told him his name yet.

"I see Adam again Tuesday at seven. He offered to take me to the gym with him."

"You mean seven in the morning I'll be in bed sleeping or doing the walk of shame," he jokes. "Don't you have a deep fear of gyms?"

Ash knows me too well, three years of close friendship, I mean location and emotionally, can do something to a person.

He knows I hate gyms, streets at night and crowded areas. I know he would kill to meet Ryan Renolds, hates gingers for some reason he's willing to go on a rant about. Something about being communists but his arguments have no logic. And that he has completed the A to Z kiss challenge, twice.

"Well I'm going back for the first time in over fourteen months." I remember the day exactly, the worst in my life.

"Well," he puts his hand on my knee when he notices before me that I had been bouncing it out of worry. God, I love Ashton. "If something goes south you have that hunk with you, and me a call away."

I force a laugh, his reassurance is comforting but gyms aren't. "Thanks."