Chapter 1
Harley was pretty sure you were supposed to decide you wanted someone to be your best friend before you slept with ‘em, but what the hell— she didn’t do regrets and she definitely didn’t regret last night. Sure, Harley had tumbled around with some gals in high school but never any like Pamela Isley.
Lord, did that woman know what she was doing.
It was also clear that Ivy needed a friend and— whaddyaknow? So did Harley.
She stared at Ivy sleeping in the bed next to her, willing the woman to wake up. Ivy’s red hair was splayed out across the pillow and the morning light played across her soft green skin. Harley had never met anyone green before, she didn’t think.
“Yes, I’m green,” Ivy had said dryly at the bar the other night, noticing Harley’s stare.
Harley straightened on her barstool. “Who cares about that, sugar? I’m staring cause you’re fucking smokin’”
And that was true enough. Harley had never seen anyone as beautiful as Ivy. High cheekbones, deep red hair, full lips turned down in a scowl, pale green eyes like sea glass. Harley was heating up again just thinking about it.
Best friends, she reminded herself again firmly, no more sex.
Even if that sex had been super, super—
Ivy’s eyes finally cracked open, flaring slightly. She shoved her face harder against the pillow.
“You’re still here?”
“Sure am!” Harley chirped. “Rise and shine. Early bird gets the worm and all that.”
Ivy muttered something under her breath before shoving upward into a seated position. Her red waves settled wildly around her face, and Ivy pushed them back with a put-out expression. Apparently, Ivy wasn’t a morning person. That was alright. Balance was good in any friendship.
“Last night was good,” Ivy said, tone clipped and slow. She was staring at Harley like she was trying to telepathically transmit a message. Whatever it was, Harley wasn’t receiving it. “I don’t really do repeats.”
Harley grinned. “Me neither. Besides, me and Puddin’ will be getting back together any day now—“
“Puddin’” Ivy’s expression was half-bewildered, half-disgust.
“— so as amazing as last night was, I’m more than happy to settle into the best friend role.”
Ivy stared at her. Harley stared back.
“Absolutely not.”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” Harley threw out an arm. “You got this big apartment all to yourself, and you were alone at the bar last night. It’s clear you need a bestie and the great news is— so do I.”
“Oh my god.” Ivy shook her head. “You’re batshit crazy.”
Harley had heard this many, many times throughout her life. She was also too loud, erratic, flighty, like a squirrel on crack, obnoxious, a few marbles short of a jar, slut, stupid, waste of fucking—
Crazy really wasn’t too bad, considering.
“You seem pretty mellow. We’ll be the perfect balance. Like a teeter-totter.”
“What are you even talking about?”
“A see-saw? You know, those things on the playground that—“
“I know what a teeter-totter is, Quinn.” Ivy shoved a hand through her hair. “I’m saying what the fuck are you talking about? You realize this was a one night stand, right.”
“Yup.”
“So…” Ivy made a shooing motion with her hands. “It’s over.”
“Correct,” Harley affirmed, standing up. She was still butt ass naked, and yeah— she noticed the way Ivy’s eyes trailed over her body. Harley resisted the urge to preen. She had a great body… all those cheer and gymnastic practices would do that for a gal.
“One night stand is over,” Harley continued, “so that our friendship can begin.”
Ivy slapped her forehead. “Why the fuck do you want to be friends with me?”
“Well, you’re smoking’ hot,” Harley started ticking off points on her fingers. “Great with plants, I’ve heard, and my little baby succulent is dyin’. You’ve got this whole grumpy man-eater vibe about you. You’re great with your tongue—“ Ivy choked. “And you’re sorely lackin’ friends. So am I.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “I’m not lacking, Quinn. It’s a choice.”
Harley decided to ignore that for now. It was time for Harley to list her reasons now, why she would make a great friend. Harley knew she could be the best friend ever, if she was just given a chance.
“I’m a cheerleader-- which means I give amazing peptalks,” Harley started. “I can do a backflip with no trampoline, super cool party trick. I’m a great wingwoman. I may talk a whole bunch, but I’ve been told some of the stuff I say is interestin’. I cook a crazy good pancake— we’re talking perfectly round, just the right amount of crispness, a little bit of—“
“Quinn.”
Harley snapped her mouth shut, staring at the green woman expectantly. Ivy was still sitting on the bed, sheets pooled around her waist. She really was like some typa work of art. The light played across her skin, and tendrils of her hair curled over her breasts. Harley had licked and nipped all up that torso last night.
“If I agree, will you get the fuck out of my house?”
Harley brightened, a large smile playing across her face. Great sex last night and now a new best friend this morning. Life was looking up, alright.
“It’s a deal, Pammy.”
“Do not call me that.” Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Holy shit. I haven’t even had coffee.”
“Want me to—“
“No.”
Despite popular belief, Harley could take a hint. Ivy was a little grumpy bear in the morning— although little was probably the wrong word, considering the woman was well over a couple inches taller than Harley— and needed some space. Because Harley was the bestest friend ever, she would grant that to her.
Harley shimmied into the jean shorts she was wearing last night and pulled on her crop top, not bothering with a bra. Her collar had fallen on the floor and Harley strapped in around her neck, feeling the light weight of it settle in place. Something twisted in her stomach, but she ignored it. Only good feelings today.
“I’ll see you around, Pammy,” Harley said brightly.
Ivy flopped back into the bed, waving a hand. “Sure, Quinn. Whatever.”
Harley loved her new grumpy best friend. Today was amazing.
Later that afternoon, Harley’s phone rang. She didn’t even have to check who it was— the ringtone was specially programmed for only one person. Harley also knew exactly what it was gonna be about. Her finger hovered over the button, hesitating, even though she knew it was useless.
Harley was gonna pick up.
She always did.