Crazy About My Best Friend Read online

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  Crazy About My Best Friend

  The Prequel

  Hazel Keys

  Table of Contents

  Also by Hazel Keys

  Chapter 1:The Present

  Chapter 2: The Past:David

  Chapter 3: Amelia

  Chapter 4:David

  Chapter 5:Amelia

  Chapter 6:David

  Chapter 7: Amelia

  Chapter 8: David

  Chapter 9: Amelia

  Chapter 10: David

  Chapter 11:David & Amelia

  Obsessed With My Best Friend

  ALSO BY HAZEL KEYS

  BEWITCHED SERIES

  Crazy About My Best Friend (Prequel)

  Obsessed With My Best Friend (Book 1)

  Attracted To My Best Friend (Book 2)

  Smitten By My Sister’s Best Friend (Book 3)

  Note: All the books above can be read as standalones even if they belong to a series.

  Copyright 2016 by Hazel Keys - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Chapter 1:“The Present”

  A lot of people ask me, how did you two meet? Everyone thinks that falling in love with the right person is like a “true love at first sight” moment. I tell them we were friends first and they still seem to think, “Yeah…but there had to be a moment when your friendship ended and you crossed over into romance.”

  This isn’t true.at least from my perspective. When I first met David, which was many years ago when we were both children, I wasn’t immediately turned off by him. I didn’t friend-zone him or anything like that. You could even argue that one or both of us were asexual versions of ourselves, since we were so young. We were aware that we were the opposite gender. At any given time through adolescence and beyond, when you’re aware of the scandalous fact that you have a vagina and he has a penis, of course, you think silly thoughts about what your children might look like or what if you both slept together one drunken night.

  The golden rule though is that you don’t do that, because showing respect in a friendship is more important than taking advantage of another person. Half-jokingly, I would tell people, “Well David was single for a long time and he lived with a roommate a few times in his life. Why didn’t he just seduce his roommate?”

  They usually laugh at this point, and say “Well David isn’t gay. David had a male roommate.”

  And I say, “Right…but then again, just because something COULD happen doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. David could have fallen in love with anybody, male or female, but he didn’t. It took a very fine mix of qualities for a woman to appeal to him. We take for granted just how many people we all reject on a daily basis and how very few people actually seem datable to us.

  The truth is, most of the people we meet in life are not going to be rolling around in your bed fucking your brains out. Most people we meet are just going to be cool people you know and have no compelling desire to score with! Maybe you have mutual friends, maybe work associates, or maybe just people you’re standing in line with at the supermarket.

  These are not going to be your sexual conquests. They are just going to be some carpoolers in the game of life. Just people you can look at, say “Hello, how was your day?” and that’ll be that.

  Did you know for example that the average person meets about 10,000 people in one lifetime? You’re not going to sleep with 10,000 people! Even sex addicts are not going to try to have sex with everyone they meet because—I don’t know about you but having sex with 10,000 people is just way beyond my threshold.

  The simple reason being that sex, romance, relationships and love are a lot of hard work. Internally and externally, searching for love is like a full-time job and something you can’t easily accomplish, even if you’re the most charming of extroverts.

  Love takes so much emotion out of us, at some point we long for that happily ever after because we just want to rest!

  David rolls over to cuddle me in bed, after rolling around on my bed and fucking my brains out, ironically. I love gazing into his eyes and sensing his private thoughts. Hearing his heart beat through his skin. Smelling and tasting him, reminding myself that we are here in this moment together, and this moment will last forever in my mind.

  Indeed, it is a small miracle that we manage to find someone so compatible…and even more so if you start off as good friends and can turn this normal human relationship into something so hungry, so passionate, so raw and so intense.

  I honestly believethat every relationship we have, whether it works out or not, takes off years of your life. I can honestly say from the first moment David first came into my life, I could feel the years chipping away! The man was simply a tax on my resources and it took all my brainpower and all my heart just to deal with him—even as a friend!

  And more to the point, it wasn’t a matter of one special moment happening or one realization that, “Hey I’ve been a moron…my best friend is really the one I love!” It’s more of a calming feeling, and one that lasts for quite a while, as you realize that you’re both finally heading down a path that could end in romance. You don’t want it to end and neither does he. And you’re both just dying to know where the road ends.

  I think that’s “when” I fell in love with my best friend. Because the truth is…I had always seen David as an amazing person, one that any woman could fall in love with. If anything, at times I wondered if he deserved better than me. At other times, I wondered if I deserved better than him.

  But I remember many instances in the past that were defining moments in our relationship…building blocks of our future romance that was “destined” to happen. Sometimes a trip down memory lane helps keep you humble. Happy. Amazed at just how compassionate life can be sometimes.

  Chapter 2

  “The Past”:David

  I still remember our time together as teens. Amelia and I seemed inseparable as children and even into the preteen years we always found each other more interesting than our contemporaries.

  “What do you think we’ll be like as grownups?” I remember Amelia asking me one day when we were hanging out in the backyard. I remember walking for hours back into the woods behind our backyard and always getting lost on the way back. Hard to believe such a time existed when pre-teenagers actually explored territory rather than looked for virtual candy on social media games.

  “Probably a lot like we are now. Don’t you think?”

  “But doesn’t time change people?” she said, picking up a branch just so she could toss it farther out into the unmarked woods.

  “I don’t think it does,” I replied. Because I know all of what I believe right now. And I know that my beliefs will never change.”

  “What if they do?”

  “Then what, some supervillains kidnaps me and brainwashes me to believe something completely opposite? Then I guess I would stop being me.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, not seeming so sure. “My mom said she was my age once. And that she didn’t know anything at all back then. So maybe the same is true. Maybe we don’t know anything…or maybe what we think we know isn’t true.”

  “Nah, I don’t think so,” I said, feeling a spike in my confidence. “I know what I believe and what I’ll always believe.”

  “Like what,” she said with a smile.

  “I believe Jesus is Lord.”


  “Right.”

  “I believe that the secret to world peace is being kind to each other. Forgiving each other.”

  “That’s cool. But what else? Like, what do you know about yourself?”

  “I believe Simon and Garfunkel were the best band ever. No one will ever be as good as them. Like ever.”

  Amelia laughed.

  “But about me…hmm…” I thought it over while kicking some rocks and watching them roll away so smoothly. “I think I love my family. My friends.”

  Amelia smiled. “Me too.”

  “I don’t think anything is more important than being there for the people who, you know, are good to you.”

  “Anything? Even if you could be president of the United States?”

  He laughed. “Well, why do I have to stop being who I am just because I’m rich and powerful?”

  “True.”

  “What about you?” I said, meeting her eyes and wearing a big smile. “How will you change? Who are you now?”

  “I guess I don’t know who I am. Maybe that’s why I will be completely different.”

  “Hmm,” I said, feeling a bit superior at that moment. “Not me. I’ll always be David. But…just so you know, even if you change I’ll still think you’re cool.”

  “You better,” she said with a sarcastic smile

  Looking back on it now, I’m not sure I understood why we were such good friends. Even though I felt I was the “little genius” at age twelve, and not too modest about it!, I couldn’t explain why I preferred Amelia’s company except that she was there, she was “cool” and we were friends. There were always other kids around that could have been friends—but they weren’t. They were outsiders.

  And yes, granted, I ate my words about “never changing” later on, particularly during the teenage years.

  I remember one night attending a musical play with a number of friends and discussing our old philosophy with Amelia who happened to be sitting with me. I definitely remember thinking she looked smoking hot, but compliments with my “friends” were always felt strange.

  “Hey pretty girl,” I said, taken aback at her semi-formal white dress, which highlighted just enough cleavage to be sexy, but not taunting anyone about it. All in all, I admit to finding her choice of dress confusing. She was a friend of mine who reminded me of her sex appeal.

  “What?” she replied cluelessly, distracted at the playbook.

  “I said…eh, doesn’t matter.” I shrugged it off. She seemed distracted. I didn’t really want to kill the mood, when the easier thing to do, and the more enjoyable thing to do at the moment, was to just continue the friendly vibe.

  “I just hope this play doesn’t have a lot of religious stuff in it,” I said, already feeling annoyed.

  Amelia looked up at me and smiled slyly. “Are you still on the atheist kick?”

  “Kick? What do you mean?”

  “I distinctly remember you telling me, several years ago that you believed in Jesus and would never change. So what…”

  I laughed.

  “Did a super bad guy kidnap and you change your mind?”

  “You know, I did say that,” he laughed. “I’m not saying it’s impossible.”

  “So you admit now that people do change,” Amelia said, being smarmy about it. I couldn’t believe she remembered that conversation all these years later.

  “I can’t believe you remember that. Boy, remind me never to piss you off, Miss I Remember Everything.”

  She shook her head and went back to looking at the playbook. “You’re going to change, David. I can sense it,” she said, giving me one last taunt.

  “Definitely not. The teenage mind is fully developed. I will be the same way now as I am when I’m sixty.”

  “We’ll see…” she said. “I’ll check in on you just to be sure.”

  “Yeah, you’ll see.” I stared at her for a moment though Amelia was engrossed in reading about the play. Something about singing gangsters, I don’t know. But at that moment I do remember thinking a rather nostalgic thought.

  Funny Amelia. I always imagined you would be by my side when we were sixty. Like…together. Kind of sucks that you’ll only be “checking in” on me.

  It was a strange “little thought” Amelia shared—the timelessness of our friendship, but the realization that we were not going to be lovers. I don’t know why I found that thought so depressing.

  But I figured, as most young minds do, that my sudden jealousy of Amelia was motivated by lust. The motivation of every young man seems to be wantingsex with every woman in sight. Maybe what I wanted at that moment, realistically speaking, was a harem of females that would be at my beck and call and never want to leave. I basically wanted to be King Solomon and write love poetry all day long. Yeah that sounded like the teenage years.

  I think the slow-building pain was a turning point for me however, and it evolved from sexual curiosity (admittedly the kind without prejudice) into a legitimately pessimistic outlook; even though Amelia was my friend, she was NOT going to be anything more. It was a hurtful thought that grew over the years, especially when I began to see up close the men who were “worthy of her” and who brought her so much more happiness than I was capable of doing.

  Chapter 3: Amelia

  Life in my twenties should have been a time of idealism, and professionally speaking, it was among the more consistent decades in my life. Although I usually only temped or worked in call centers, I did get the opportunity to do political work through local volunteering.

  “Amelia,” said Jordan Scott, a social activist and Democrat-at-large, looking to make the world a better place. “When you have a new sign up be sure to get their mailing address. A lot of people don’t answer their phone. Caller ID now, go fig.”

  “Oh, sorry about that.”

  “No problem, just a suggestion.” He smiled back at her with that charismatic smile, flashing white teeth and blue eyes. With golden blond looks and a politician’s confidence, he looked like everyone’s first crush—and he took that feeling and ran with it. The man just loved being “alpha” and giving people orders…from the women he dominated, to the male staff members that worked for him…to even people that he met in his “downtime”, he just loved passing along orders.

  And of course, he always had the polite introduction: Can you do me a favor?

  “Hey Amelia, can you do me a favor and come in Saturday morning? I’d really like to go over the new Fallagenda with you, Marcus, Jeffrey and Lydia.”

  “Oh, sure. Why not?”

  “Great, I knew I could count on you.”

  No surprise that when he was ready, he talked me into bed with little effort.

  “Hey Amelia can you do me a favor and…come to my house for dinner on Sunday night?

  Amelia stared at him in confusion…which finally melted away into a smile. The man talked about business and politics non-stop, and it was quite a refreshing change to hear him talk about something fun and human for a change.

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “I’m informing you that I want you for dinner,” he said with a calm and preppy smile. “And you’re going to say yes because you’re very curious about my level of expertise in cooking. Besides, we work too much. We need to relax now and then.”

  “True…and how is it you ‘relax’, Mister Scott?”

  I almost had sex with him right at that moment and mentally I had already given him an IOU. Something about transforming your work colleagues into sexual conquests, I guess. He found me attractive—loved to bark orders and me and dominate me in lovemaking. At that age, I hardly had a reason to exist. Maybe when you’re young and foolish you need a mentor to guide you through this awkward phase. To teach you about your own body and what you like…

  I hardly remember the dinner or the lame conversation, but I remember the frantic lovemaking in his loft very well. Mister Scott—as I still reference him today—was surprisingly gentle for a virgin’s first time. But in hindsi
ght our formality was probably because he wasn’t much on intimate communication. The man didn’t know himself any better than I knew myself, but there was one thing he knew and did damn well.

  “Oh God!” I screamed, watching him finger me as expertly as a doctor. He didn’t even penetrate me until I came three times, screaming his name like an obedient student. I remember flexing my muscles in strange new ways and making guttural noises not too flattering for a graceful woman.

  I stared into his eyes like a poor little kitty waiting for food. I panted like an animal and got my first taste of dehydrated, gasping sex. When he finally did fuck me, he was slow and steady, making sure the entry didn’t hurt.

  “Oh yeah like that…oh Mister Scott!” I grinned, loving the “formality” of our relationship. He came outside of me like a gentleman, in the condom and on my stomach. He had stamina, good looks and a pretty average sized dick, but with the brains of a master. I loved it when co-workers looked at me with those wondering eyes, thinking I looked flush…relaxed…a bit goofy in the face, probably from all those post-orgasmic marathons.

  No surprise then that during those first few weeks I was his virtual love slave and a bit distant to everyone else—including David.

  David could tell I had become “distracted” and seemed downright resentful about it. We saw each other at a mutual friend’s wedding—Dana—and caught up only briefly.

  “You just don’t seem to care about anything anymore except your boss at work.”

  “He’s not my boss, we’re volunteering,” she said spitefully. “You might find, David, that becoming politically active is a very grownup thing to do.”

  “Yeah right,” David snapped back. “I stopped believing in politicians the same day I stopped believing in God.”

  “Still on the atheist kick?” I said with a giggle.

  “It’s not a kick. It’s what I believe now. And I don’t-”