Love You Better (Better Love 1)

“Kelley.”

“You’re on the move.”

I smile at his matter-of-fact tone and the way his voice is still gravelly from sleep. Low and growly. The idea of being the first person he speaks to after waking makes me feel warm in a way that I choose to ignore.

“I am. You’re tracking me.”

“Of course. It’s in the best friend code: don’t let your bestie go home with the beefy dudebro with an undercut from the bar unless you’re stalking her promiscuous ass on Friend Finder.”

I snort, and it’s unfeminine and unapologetic. He’s right, though, and I love him for it. It’s been our code for the last eight months, and I’d do it for him, if he ever stopped being a stick in the mud and went out once in a while.

“How do you know he was beefy with an undercut?” I ask, curious.

“You have a type, Ives. It’s always the same kind of guy. Undercut, gym rat, tan. It’s like you want to fuck the cast of Jersey Shore.”

I flinch a little at his observation, but the smile I can hear in his voice soothes the offense. He didn’t mean anything by it. If he knew...well. He doesn’t know, so I shake it off. He’s always teasing me and giving me a hard time, but he never judges, so I play along.

“Oh my gosh, Kelley! Don’t be crass.”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em, Ives. And anyway, I made Jesse send me a picture of him.”

I laugh again, louder and fuller this time. Jesse isn’t just my weekend wingman; he’s also Kelley’s roommate, which means even if Kelley doesn’t come out with us, he’s still pretty well-informed. I shake my head and grin. I love our friend group—me, Kelley, Jesse, and my roommate Bailey—even if we do tend to get a little too up in each other’s business at times.

“Oh boy. That’s next level.”

“Only for you, Ivy.”

>

I can picture him leaning on his kitchen counter, that infuriating little side smirk on his face as he sips his morning coffee. He’s probably shirtless, defined abs on display, sweats riding low on his hips. I give my fuzzy head a little shake.

“This is a little late for you, yeah?”

“I couldn’t get an Uber any earlier. The shortest wait was half an hour.”

“Damn. What’d you do?”

“Hid in a corner of the apartment lobby for 20 minutes and played Farm World on my phone until I got the text that my Uber was close. I didn’t want to wait on the curb.”

He laughs.

“What are you doing today?” I ask him.

Tonight is Netflix and Fill, our standing weekly hangout where Kelley and I take turns cooking each other dinner and then veg out on the couch. Our Saturday evenings are set, but his Saturday days are usually more fluid than mine.

“If Jesse comes back soon, Imma hit the gym with him.”

“Hate to break to it to you, Kell, but I doubt that will happen.” I giggle. “Pretty sure J went home with two very willing partners last night.”

“Of course, he did,” Kelley deadpans, and I can practically hear his eyeroll. “Then it looks like I’ll be flying solo at the gym today.”

Kelley takes two things very seriously: his education and his physical fitness. If he’s not studying, he’s playing soccer or lifting weights or working through his modified marathon training program. As a result, he not only has a 4.0 GPA, but he also has a lean and ripped body that has the potential to make me think very unfriendly thoughts about my best friend. If he weren’t my best friend, that is.

“No training today?” I ask.

“Nope. Today is a rest day. Yesterday was 18 miles.”

“Ick.” I shudder, and he laughs at me. I don’t understand why anyone would want to run that far for that long. It’s just...ick.