The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Daddy?”
    “It sucks, thank you very much. But it keeps
Puritanical assholes like yourself from giving me a hard time.”
Huntley grinned. “You’re just pissed I dropped you again.”
    “Damn right. One of these days I’m going to
break something. It’s a long way down for some of us.” Eyes on the
floor, Miles stepped closer to his friend.
    “Poor Jolly,” Huntley said, poking him in the
belly again.
    Which gave Miles the excuse he needed to haul
his pretty ass into the air and hold him upside down by the
ankles.
    “Aiiieeee, shit!” Huntley flailed around like
a fish on a hook and tried to grab Miles’s legs.
    Miles just lifted him higher, shook him a
little bit. “You got any change in those pockets? Fancy-ass cell
phone?” He shook him harder. “Damn, your sissy jeans are too
tight.”
    Laughing and swearing at the same time,
Huntley arched his back and lashed out with his arms. “You
can’t—last—forever!” he gasped. “Then—you’re—toast!”
    A large voice boomed from the doorway. “You
need help, Mr. Sterling?”
    “No—Eric—I’m—fine,” Huntley managed.
    “If you’re sure,” the man said, and left.
    Shoulders burning, Miles let Huntley down
just far enough for his hands to reach the ground, then pushed
forward so Huntley was forced to walk on his hands. Miles
wheelbarrowed him for ten feet, dropped him, and jumped away,
feeling a triumphant grin stretching across his face. “Truce.”
    Huntley started to get up, then sank back
onto the floor. “Oh sure, now it’s a truce.” But he was smiling as
he flopped onto his back.
    Glad for the chance to catch his breath,
Miles sat down on the ground and gazed at his oldest friend. “Since
when do you have a babysitter?”
    “Not my idea.”
    “I guessed that. Your mother’s or
father’s?”
    He snorted. “Please. Dad thinks it’s
ridiculous but lets her get her way. Doesn’t like to argue.” Still
flat on his back, Huntley turned his head to gaze seriously at
Miles. “Guess I take after him in some ways.”
    “What does your model friend think of
them?”
    Huntley’s smile faded. “Don’t call her that.
It’s bad enough I have to put up with that shit from my
parents.”
    “Maybe they see something you don’t. They
just want the best for you.”
    “My parents only see what they want to see.”
Huntley jumped to his feet. “Which is usually money and other
people named Sterling.”
    Wincing at the sudden pain in his shoulder,
Miles got up and went over to pick up the basketball. “Maybe
they’re afraid that’s all she sees, too,” he said softly.
    “No. Not you too.”
    “How long have you known this girl? Two
months?”
    “Half a year next week.”
    “Not even six months. Not nearly enough time.
What’s the hurry? Fine, she wants to get engaged. Get engaged,
then—I know how that is. But couldn’t you put things off a bit?”
Miles dribbled the ball. “God knows you’ve got the charm to
convince women of anything.”
    All the playfulness gone, Huntley said, “It
was my idea to get married.”
    “Yours?” Miles made a long shot for the
basket, missed. “You sure about that?”
    Huntley looked like he wanted to knock him
down again. Normally he wouldn’t attack when he was angry, but he
looked like he wanted to. “Watch it. You want me to choose between
you and Fawn and it’s no contest.” He gave him a hard stare, ran
after the ball. “No fucking contest at all.”
    “None at all. Great.” Miles had a sudden
flashback to a can of Red Bull hitting him on the forehead. This
hurt worse.
    “Damn it. I don’t mean that. I mean, I do,
but—shit. How’d we get in this hole? I came here to ask you to be
my best man.” He jumped and put the ball through the net.
    Best man. Miles shouldn’t have been
surprised, but he was. Years of living on opposite coasts, wildly
different lifestyles—and Miles still hadn’t gotten used to the idea
of him being engaged. “I haven’t even met her