Hooked by My Childhood Friend
Ongoing · Daisy
"You've been staring at me all night," I said, my voice slightly slurred. "Either it's creepy or you like what you see."
"Look, handsome," I continued, leaning closer.
"I've had a really shitty day. Want to make it better? I'll pay for your time. I've got plenty of money."
His eyes widened slightly, and then he reached out, taking my hand in his.
His touch was warm, his fingers long and strong, yet unexpectedly gentle as they wrapped around mine.
"Olivia," he said, his voice deep and somehow achingly familiar. "Do you know who I am?"
I'm Olivia, raised in a loving family, and I always thought I had pretty good judgment when it came to men.
Until my college boyfriend cheated on me.
After being betrayed, I broke up with him decisively, but I was still really hurt inside.
At my best friend's urging, I went to her bar to drink away my sorrows and ended up drunkenly spending the night with some guy.
The next morning when I woke up, I found lying next to me was Blake—my childhood friend who'd been out of touch for years, the same guy who used to sarcastically say I'd "never learn how to read people."
I thought this awkward incident would make us even more distant, but surprisingly Blake came looking for me, asking me to help him strategize how to pursue a girl.
"Who do you want to go after?" I asked curiously.
"A friend," he said evasively.
My mind immediately went to Sophia—that girl who was always close to him, who'd had some ambiguous relationship with him since middle school.
Of course, he still liked her.
When I was seriously analyzing female psychology and telling him various pursuit techniques, he suddenly interrupted me, "Olivia, the person I want to pursue is you."
Maybe every love story gets its own weird beginning, even when it starts with a bunch of confusion and terrible timing.
"Look, handsome," I continued, leaning closer.
"I've had a really shitty day. Want to make it better? I'll pay for your time. I've got plenty of money."
His eyes widened slightly, and then he reached out, taking my hand in his.
His touch was warm, his fingers long and strong, yet unexpectedly gentle as they wrapped around mine.
"Olivia," he said, his voice deep and somehow achingly familiar. "Do you know who I am?"
I'm Olivia, raised in a loving family, and I always thought I had pretty good judgment when it came to men.
Until my college boyfriend cheated on me.
After being betrayed, I broke up with him decisively, but I was still really hurt inside.
At my best friend's urging, I went to her bar to drink away my sorrows and ended up drunkenly spending the night with some guy.
The next morning when I woke up, I found lying next to me was Blake—my childhood friend who'd been out of touch for years, the same guy who used to sarcastically say I'd "never learn how to read people."
I thought this awkward incident would make us even more distant, but surprisingly Blake came looking for me, asking me to help him strategize how to pursue a girl.
"Who do you want to go after?" I asked curiously.
"A friend," he said evasively.
My mind immediately went to Sophia—that girl who was always close to him, who'd had some ambiguous relationship with him since middle school.
Of course, he still liked her.
When I was seriously analyzing female psychology and telling him various pursuit techniques, he suddenly interrupted me, "Olivia, the person I want to pursue is you."
Maybe every love story gets its own weird beginning, even when it starts with a bunch of confusion and terrible timing.
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