Page 4 of Someone You Deserve
“Penn is gonna help me renovate the bakery,” Astrid answers, glancing up at him now.
“Like there’s anyone better for the job.” Dallas huffs out a laugh.
“I know, but it’s going to be a lot of work.”
Dallas leans toward Astrid. “You do realize he just renovated an entire house for Willow, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware. But I also know he’s busy…”
“I’m never too busy to help you, Astrid,” I say, cutting her off.
“I just hate to ask you foranotherfavor…”
“It’s not a favor. I want to help,” I declare adamantly. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
She reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I do. I can always depend on you, Penn. You’re such a good friend and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
Do you see that knife she just plunged into my chest? Yeah, doesn’t feel so good.
“You’re such a good friend.”
That’s me.
Mr. Dependable.
The king of the friend zone—a place I never wanted to be but reluctantly found myself the president of after one drunken night three years ago. I was just afriendbeforethatnight. But before then, that word didn’t hold the same type of meaning.
It’s just as well though. The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself by pursuing the widow of my best friend, an issue I never would have predicted having.
Astrid was Brandon’s wife. They had been together since we were teenagers. We all grew up together and were as thick as thieves. I stood as the best man in their wedding, I’m the godfather to their kids, and I’ve been there through every milestone and crisis.
The two of them were so in love, the quintessential family that everyone strives for. Brandon would brag about his life every chance he got, especially to me. And I always envied the life he had with Astrid, one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known and someone I’m lucky enough to call my friend, too.
And I never thought about her otherwise until a few months beforethatnight—the night that everything changed.
“Proud to wear the title,” I mutter, trying to hide the irritation that word evokes in me. But my brother catches it, smirking in my direction.
“Great. Well, maybe when you come over this week for game night, we can talk about it more?” She blinks a few times, tilting her head at me as she waits for me to respond.
Every week I spend one evening over at her house playing games with the kids. Bentley is eleven now, and Lilly is seven. It’s a tradition I started with them after Brandon died. My entire family grew up playing board games together, and I wanted to help them have that same sense of togetherness. After losing my dad this year, I understand the absence that creates even more now.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Astrid!” Brian, the other manager of the restaurant, calls out to her. “Get your ass over here! We’re taking shots!”
“Ugh. I really don’t want to be hungover tomorrow,” she whispers.
“One won’t kill you,” Dallas chimes in. “After that, use the vodka bottle full of water under the bar and pour your own if they keep pressuring you to take more.” He winks at her.
Dallas learned from the previous owner to keep a dummy bottle of alcohol for those patrons that just didn’t know when to stop. Pouring them shots of water never gets old, especially when they act like it tastes bad or burns going down.
Fucking funny as hell.
Grinning, she stands from her stool and smooths down her light pink top, the one that offers the perfect sliver of her cleavage. It’s a favorite of mine. “Perfect. See you boys later.”
The two of us watch her walk away before Dallas slides onto the stool she just vacated. “You’re such a goodfriend,” he says in a feminine voice, imitating Astrid from before.
Glaring at him, I bark out, “Shut the fuck up.”