Cheat With My Boyfriend Best Friend

Aaron’s POV III

After seeing Olive with Vincent, I was back to being the pl*yboy I once was. Once again, I was a familiar face in the club.

Jake slapped a hand over my shoulder. “Welcome back, Aaron. Heartbreak is what separates boys from men.”

“Oh, yeah? Not d*ck size?”

“F*ck off.”

I was grateful Jake didn’t press me with st*pid questions like ‘What happened to you and the redhead?’ I probably would’ve grabbed a bottle and smashed it over his head if he’d asked.

But at that moment, I was inclined to smash it over my own head.

I wanted to sleep with Olive, but I couldn’t. That was that. Love had nothing to do with it.

I thought I would quickly forget about her.

Whenever I got drunk, I always saw her face in the reflection of the glass. She started to appear in my dreams, where I saw her on my bed-where I saw her under me-but whenever I made love to her in my dreams, she called Vincent’s name. Then everything became a nightmare.

Fine. Maybe I did care a little bit.

Maybe I was just upset that for once, I couldn’t have the woman I was interested in.

But there was more to life than just women. There was my career, my education, and my family. A woman was just the

spice of life.

I remembered it clearly. It was 5pm on a Thursday, and after six months of negotiation, some geeky CEO of a tech startup signed a contract with me. I poured myself a glass of whiskey even though it was still early in the evening because I was over it. I spent the past months trying to get this freak out of his house, and now I could finally relax.

I needed to get drunk and I needed to get laid.

I met a week ago. She had beautiful breasts and a s*xy, smoky voice. I imagined that she would’ve sounded like a

was her

her on social media, I received

request.

full of notifications from women, but amongst the avatars of beauty filters

such requests from bland accounts

deal. In any case, I was in a good enough mood to

Then, I was stunned.

No matter

around the figure’s head and shoulders. Typically, a picture like that

It was Olive.

accepted

the dead of the night, when I couldn’t sleep, I would open her account and go through her posts. My personal favorite was one of her at the beach in

expected I’d

heyOlive: busy?

she really talking

glass of whiskey for vintage champagne from my cellar. It wasn’t the best I’ve had, but I couldn’t care less. I poured myself a

just one glass, I was already

Amorris: ?

heyOlive: are you busy?

No it’s cool. What’s

a while-a

heyOlive: are you single?

saw that sentence. What did

she was the one asking. My palms began to sweat

I was nervous.

on!’ I told myself. ‘Don’t look st*pid in front of