Accidentally Amy(21)

“So,” Izzy said, closing her laptop and resting her chin on her hand. “Did we just become best friends?”
“Depends,” he said, giving her a smirk.
“On?”
“On what it means to you.” His hands were wrapped around his cup, and Izzy noticed he had nice fingernails. He said, “If you want someone to bail you out of jail or be your blood brother, I’m not the guy.”
“I’m not that guy, either,” Izzy agreed.
“But if it means I get to come get you when your car breaks down in the rain, then yes, we are.”
“Nope - sorry buddy. Can’t be alone together.”
“Come on - there have to be exceptions," he said, his eyebrows going down.
“I don’t think that’s wise,” she reiterated.
“Are you sure?” he asked, mimicking her by putting his chin on his hand. “Because a best friend who can give you and your landfill bike a ride home would be pretty handy right about now, wouldn't it?"


    Blake
Blake watched as her eyes got soft, as she smiled a dreamy little smile. “That would be nice, but I think we have to keep these lines clear.”
“You’re telling me that if I called you, stranded on the side of the road, you wouldn’t save me?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “You have a very nice car, Blake. You don’t need me because you have roadside assistance.”
He pursed his lips and tried again. “If I called you because I was too drunk to drive…?”
“I’d get an Uber for my bestie Blake."
He sighed, irritated, which didn’t make a damn bit of sense because she was right. “Fine. You can ride all four miles on that garbage bike.”
“You saw it?” She sat back in her chair and gave him an embarrassed grin. “It’s pretty bad, right? I’ll probably walk it half the way back, to be honest.”
“Izzy--”
“Nope.” He clenched his jaw, not used to feeling powerless. “There’s no convincing you?”
She shook her head and said, “Afraid not."
“Well, what if I drive your bike home and call you an Uber?” The obsessive part of him that always needed to find the solution to a problem was spinning in circles.
She looked like she wanted to say yes. She asked him, “Would you mind dropping the bike at my building and I’ll just run home?”
“Deal.”
“You’re such a great best friend,” she said, grinning, and he wondered why he was playing with fire while at the same time knowing he wasn’t ready to stop anytime soon.
“So about this friendship.” He reached for his cup and said, “Is it something we talk about?”
“What’s the first rule about Fight Club?” Izzy asked.
“In my case, it would be to watch Fight Club.”
She squinted at him and said, “You haven’t seen Fight Club? Isn’t that in the man charter or, like, pledge you take every day?”
“I know of no such charter or pledge,” he said, trying to remember how many days it’d been since they met. Because somehow, just like that, he felt like he’d known her forever.
“Well, everyone knows the first rule of fight club is not to talk about it.”
“Don’t you think, since it’s a fight club, that the first rule should be something savage like there are no rules, or maybe the only way out is through death?”
“Blake. Focus,” she said, feigning exasperation as she slowly shook her head. “What I’m suggesting, clearly with the wrong analogy, is that we probably shouldn’t talk about it at work.”
"Agreed."
They relaxed a little after that and had another coffee, discussing the NFL matchups that day and discussing potential fantasy trades they each might make. Ironically, they both had teams in Ellis fantasy pools, just different leagues. When it was time to leave and Blake was loading her bike into the trunk of his SUV, he heard himself say, “Izzy, what if you sit in the back seat?”
“What?” She set her messenger bag in the trunk, since she couldn’t run with it, and gave him a look. “What do you mean?”
“If you sit in the back seat, nothing can accidentally transpire between us.”
She furrowed her brows and tilted her head, considering the idea. “Hmmm…I’m not sure.”
“For the love of God, Iz,” he said, slamming the back door closed and looking down at her like she was a child. “Get in the damn back seat.”
Her eyes narrowed and he thought she was going to debate yet again and make him lose his mind, but then her mouth - goddamn, that mouth - slid up into a sexy grin. She gave her head a shake, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “My best friend makes me sit in the back seat of his car like I’m a little bitty baby child. Nice.”
She walked around him, opened the passenger-side back door, and climbed into his car. And all he could think, as he got in and buckled his seat belt, was I fucking love my new best friend.

Chapter Seven

Izzy
Izzy looked at her watch – almost noon.
She ignored the growl in her stomach and wished time would move faster. Her breakfast - a can of Rockstar and a chocolate pop tart - was no longer doing the trick and she needed sustenance. She usually ate lunch at 11 a.m. like a senior citizen, but that day, she was holding out until 12:30.
No reason - she just felt like waiting, she thought as she got out her compact and added a little blush and lip gloss to her face.
Thirty minutes later, when the alarm on her wrist buzzed, she stuck her debit card in the pocket of her skirt and stood. Grabbing her black pea coat, she slid her arms into it as she left her office, heading for the exit like her ass was on fire.