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.

a week ago. She had

was her

looking for her on social media, I received a

request.

notifications from women, but amongst the avatars of beauty filters and cleavage

requests from bland accounts

not that day. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the new business deal. In any case, I was in a good enough mood to indulge my curious

Then, I was stunned.

was a silhouette. No matter how hard I squinted, I could only make out

figure’s head and shoulders. Typically, a picture like that meant ‘leave me alone, but I

It was Olive.

I accepted her

I couldn’t sleep, I would open her account and go through her posts. My personal favorite was one

never expected I’d end up messaging

heyOlive: busy?

Was she really talking

It wasn’t the

glass, I was

Amorris: ?

heyOlive: are you busy?

No it’s cool. What’s

while-a long

heyOlive: are you single?

blood froze when I saw that sentence. What did she mean? Was

but I felt uneasy when she was the one asking. My palms

I was nervous.

‘Don’t look st*pid