His Curvy Best Friend - Curvy Girl Dating Agency

I sat back, stunned at the venom in her words. “Why are you so mad about it?” It didn’t make sense, and the last thing I wanted was to have another person angry with me.

She took a bite and chewed, slowly. Deliberately. “The path is clear for you and Stone. Wide open, if you want it to be, yet it’s you creating obstacles to your own damn happiness. That man wants you, has it bad for you, not Babs. You. So go for it, take the leap or whatever. Or set Stone free. That’s my advice.” With a bitter smile, she picked up the sandwich and took a larger than necessary bite. “If my advice matters, that is. Then again, I don’t date, so maybe it shouldn’t matter.”

I couldn’t stop the frown on my face and shook my head. “Maybe you don’t date because you eat like an animal?”

Mara blinked and then laughed. Loudly. “That was funny. You’re more than you seem, Sophie. Stone would be lucky if you returned his feelings.”

“Thanks Mara.” She was a quiet woman, but clearly one who had secrets she wanted to keep to herself, the gruff outer shell wasn’t all that she was. “Your advice was a little too honest, but exactly what I needed to hear.”

“That’s the point of brutal honesty, to help you hear what you already know so you can stop fighting it so hard.”

“Dang, you missed your calling as a therapist or an advice columnist.” She was good, and I wondered if there was a way to utilize her services for Time for Love.

“Nah, baking is more my jam, but you’re good people and so is Stone.”

I figured as much. “I hope for your sake, Mara, that you heal from whatever is keeping you from dating because you’re pretty awesome. And that is my professional opinion.”

She grunted a few incoherent words of gratitude and finished off her lunch without another word. The silence should have been tense, stifling even, but it was comforting.

Most of all, her unintrusive silence gave me time to think about her advice, brutal as it was. She was right, I wasn’t being fair to Stone and I needed to examine my own motives in all this.

Why had I kissed Stone? Was it really as basic as jealousy or did I, deep down, want to kiss my best friend?

I needed to figure it out and make it up to Stone.

Before it was too late.Stone“I’ve got a pizza in the oven, Ma.”

She clucked her tongue, and in my mind’s eye, I could see her with her hands on her ample hips while she shook her head. “Pizza isn’t dinner, Stone.”

“It’s a big pizza and it’s all mine.” Because another Friday night had rolled around and I begged off plans with Xander and the guys in favor of paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. “Stop worrying, Ma.”

“I’m your mother and it’s my god given right to worry about you, especially when all you do is work. Not that I’m not proud of you, because I am. But how many gyms do you plan to open before you and Sophie make up?”

There it was, the inevitable segue into the one thing I didn’t want to talk about. “Ma, we’re not fighting, just having a difference of opinion.”

“One that means you haven’t spoken or hung out in weeks?”

“Ma,” I groaned just as the oven timer sounded. “We kissed and she freaked out, which I could have dealt with, but then I showed up for movie night and she forgot, acted like I was bothering her. So I’m focusing on what’s important.” For now. Sophie had reached out, but not really. She wanted to ignore the big kissy faced elephant in the room and pretend as if nothing had changed. “My pizza is done and this paperwork is not gonna do itself.”

“Neither will you if all you focus on is paperwork.”

“Aw, Ma. Please!”

Her melodic chuckle sounded down the line and brought a smile to my face. “I might be old son, but I’m not dead. Or stupid.”

“No, Ma, you are none of those things. But you are going to give me nightmares, so please, let me get back to my pizza and paperwork.”

She snorted. “Sounds like a really sad book club.”

It really did. “Good night, Ma.”

“See you Sunday?”

“With a little gift for my favorite girl.” I’d picked up something in Tulip I knew she would love.

“Yeah? Sophie’s coming this week, I hadn’t heard.”

“Good night, Ma.” I ended the call before she could start in on the whole Sophie or grandchild thing, and because the scent of tomato sauce and garlic was calling my name.

Pizza and paperwork wasn’t my ideal way of spending a Friday night. But I had to eat, and I needed to get through the reams of paper to see if the gym in Tulip made as much sense in reality as it seemed to in my head. Two slices in and I was starting to feel better about my solo Friday night.