Path To Resolution (Fighter's Den, #5)

Chapter 2 - Lenny

"Why are you screaming?" I groan, covering my ears.

Aria turns her head to look at me and her face scrunches. "Dude, I whispered."

"Not quietly enough." My face thumps into her pillow and I groan into it, curling my body inwards and kicking her leg to get some more room. "And why the fuck is your bed so small?"

"It has sentimental value. I grew up in this bed."

"More like you've grown out of this bed."

"In my defence I did try to get rid of it but Asher made me keep it. Makes him hot that it's the same bed we've shared since we were kids."

"Aaaand I officially need to burn my body." I roll off the bed like I was stabbed, not even caring when I painfully fall to the floor. I dust myself off and shiver. "You guys are fucking disgusting."

Aria peers over the bed to look down at me and laughs, not at all offended. "You know you love us."

Fine. I do. But only because I've been hearing about Asher since the day I met Ria and I've wanted them to be together since. Those two are straight out of a fucking fairytale with their best friends to lovers story. You know, minus Asher's birth parents being part of a drug cartel and their enemies almost killing Ash in the process.

When I first met Aria, there was something about her I instantly liked. It's not just that she stumbled into the tattoo parlour I worked at when we lived in California all drunk and incoherent—although I'll admit, Ria is entertaining as fuck when she's drunk—but beneath her perfectly composed lawyer ensemble, I could see the pain inside of her through her eyes. You know how they say the eyes are the windows to the soul or some shit? It was like that.

On the first day we met, Aria flopped down on the recliner beside me and demanded I give her a tattoo. She didn't give a shit that she didn't make an appointment or that someone else was booked to come see me in another five minutes. I almost kicked her right out, having major practice dealing with drunken messes of people that somehow convince themselves that getting a permanent tattoo in their state is a good idea, but then she stared at me with so much raw hurt that I couldn't say no. Because fuck, that same hurt was brewing inside of me. And maybe it was fate but my appointment ended up being a no-show and I found myself feeling grateful that I hadn't turned away from Aria.

The entire time I worked on her tattoo, she told me about Asher and how her piece was for him. The way she talked about him made me realize I've never loved anyone like that (and I still don't) but there was also so much anguish in her voice. Sorrow. I had an intuition that her story ran so much deeper than just the boy next door and maybe it was the the protective side of me but I knew I had to watch over her. So I got her number and met up with her again the next day, pleasantly surprised that she was just as entertaining when sober too. Even though we're complete opposites on the outside, on the insides our pain almost runs in par with each other. I somehow knew that way before she finally opened up to me a year into our friendship about everything she went through. Then I told her my story and we got drunk and spontaneously decided to become roommates and that was that. She's been my ride or die since.

That's why I'm over the fucking moon that her and Asher are finally together and they're arguably the cutest fucking couple I've ever known but I'm still going to give them shit. What else is a best friend for?

Speak of the devil, the sound of shoes meeting concrete has Aria and I sitting upright just before the balcony doors of her room open and lover boy struts in.

"Ladies." He smirks.

I make a face at the little maneuver he pulled, scaling between their balconies like that. "Edward."