} Chapter Dinner With the Best Friend | The S Word by Bubbly 🌸 at Inkitt

The S Word

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Dinner With the Best Friend

I drive to the restaurant Layla said for us to meet, all the while my mind is in another place.


I received his text earlier today, and something in me reacted differently, and it wasn’t my lady parts. My heart started to beat so fast I couldn’t realize what was going on until I read the text for the third time.

Do you have any food allergies?

Not that I know of
What are you cooking

You’ll see

Then, after leaving a quick note on my channel saying there won’t be a live today, I wondered and clicked on the one user I miss. 50shades.of.purple hasn’t been online for more than a week now. If he doesn’t appear on my next live, I will leave him a private message.

I stop the car at the door and get out, handing my key to the valet. I know exactly what he thought; my small ford isn’t the type of car he is used to park. But Layla chose the restaurant, and she is paying, so might as well enjoy this.

“Take good care of it please,” I say to the boy, winking at him.

As I thought he blushes. He must be around 19, easy to impress, and only thinking of how many women he can have sex with per week. Sometimes my job comes in handy to read people.

“Of course, miss,” he replies slightly bowing before entering in the car.

I only met two men who were hard to impress, or to get a reaction from. Justin, although I knew exactly what was on his mind when we started dating, never seemed shy or impatient with me. He always acted like he was in charge.

The other one is Alexander, who I thought the first time we met that he wasn’t even interested in me, and now I’ve been meeting him under the pretext of doing collaborations.

Both of them know how to break me, and both of them are so different.

Sometimes I wonder how it would be for them to meet, and then I think its best not to. Justin always likes to be the one over the others; his dominant presence wouldn’t match with Alexander’s enchanting nature. They would bump heads.

“Finally,” Layla says, standing up. “I was waiting for a while now.”

I kiss her cheek before taking the seat across from his. The décor of the restaurant is fancy, dark brown mixed with gold hints, paintings covering walls, big velvet drapes that hang on the windows. The light is dimmed coming from the chandeliers, so it entices people to talk and forget they are in the presence of others. Even the waiters don’t make any sound while walking among the tables. I would say this is where Layla takes her dates to impress them.

“You said this was an exquisite place, but you didn’t say how much.”

“I was trying to amaze you,” she says, smiling at me. “Did I succeed?”

“Yes, Chim, you succeeded.”

Layla, the one girl I know who loves praises more than anything else in the world. By choice of restaurant I am starting to assume I am not the only one with good news. As I take the napkin and put it over my legs one of the waiters appears carrying a bottle of water. Layla and I order the plates, she asks for champagne, and I am certain he has news.

“So, what are we celebrating?”

She clears his throat, picking up the small glass and gesturing in the air.

“To your new job,” she says, and I eye her suspiciously. “And my new girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

My first instinct is to put the glass back on the table, or I will break it by how much I want to smack her. Layla drinks cautiously, glancing at me before starting to laugh.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” She asks, smiling.


“Her name is Jia; she watches you. That’s how I met her.”

Her beaming smile warms my cold heart, and I understand how happy my best friend is. What I don’t understand is why she didn’t say anything.

“She watches me?”

“Yeah, her user is BitchQueen.”

I can feel the way my eyes widen, staring at him to the point they hurt from it. From all the girls who watch me, BitchQueen was not the one I thought would date Layla. When the food arrives she explains how they met, she liked his comments and searched her, found out his channel.

“And after that, we just started to talk in private.”

“Ok, but how you go from that to meeting her?”

Layla chuckles she sets the silverware down before staring at me.

“Because during one private she opened her camera and let me tell you, I was amazed.”

Layla smiles, gazing down at his now empty plate. She seems lost in thoughts for a second. It’s been a while since I saw her this happy.

“Yeah, you’re whipped,” I say, taking a bite out of my food.

“You’re one to talk.”

She quickly stares at me, winking her right eye, before a dashing smile crosses her lips.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I speak, quickly sipping from the wine in front of me.

“How’s A doing?”

I shock on the liquid, feeling the burning sensation in my throat. Widening my eyes trying to maintain my composure I place the glass slowly down avoiding Layla’s piercing gaze.

“A, he’s okay, I think. Why do you ask?”

Better to avoid and act as if we are not that close. But lying to Layla is never good, the girl is a lie detector she knows exactly when I’m avoiding a topic, when I am refusing to answer or when I say a big fat lie. Like now.

“So you didn’t have sex with him again?”

She asks this so innocently as the waiter clears the table taking the dishes away. I sip on the drink, maybe if I get tipsy she will stop the questions, although I’m pretty sure that will only entice her.

“We did.”

“Hoe and you weren’t going to tell me?” Layla leans on the table, placing her hand beneath her chin and waiting for me to speak again. “I want details.”


“Yes,” she says as if it was obvious. “The nasty ones. How big is he? What did you do? Is he good with his hands? Fuck, is he good with his mouth? Because he seems like-”

My phone starts to beep interrupting Layla’s rant. Thank God it’s not Alexander or I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Instead Justin’s face lights up the device, and I sigh in disbelief.

He isn’t letting me rest.

“He’s still around?”

I nod, avoiding the call and turning the device down. Layla’s eyes soften a little as he sees my troubled face. The thing about dealing with psychologists is that they can read you even when you don’t want.

“You’re avoiding him,” she states, staring at me.


“Nicole...” her tone is a warning, for me to be truthful but not with Justin, with myself.

“I am. But it’s weird Lay. It’s like, everything was fine, and then it’s not satisfying as it was anymore because-”

“Because you are developing feelings for someone else.”

A small breath I forgot I was holding escapes my lips. The thoughts I avoided for a while come to me, and I am forced to face them. It’s more than a crush; I like Alexander. I like him a lot. I’m still not sure of the magnitude of my feelings, but I know I want to explore them.


“So what will you do now?”

“We have a date tomorrow,” I say, picking up my glass once again. “Maybe we need to talk.”

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