Cheating with my boyfriend's best friend novel (Olivia and Aaron)

Chapter 103

Aaron’s POV III
After seeing Olive with Vincent, I was back to being the pl*yboy I once was. Once again, I was a familiar face in the club.
Jake slapped a hand over my shoulder. “Welcome back, Aaron. Heartbreak is what separates boys from men.”
“Oh, yeah? Not d*ck size?”
“F*ck off.”
I was grateful Jake didn’t press me with st*pid questions like ‘What happened to you and the redhead?’ I probably would’ve grabbed a bottle and smashed it over his head if he’d asked.
But at that moment, I was inclined to smash it over my own head.
I wanted to sleep with Olive, but I couldn’t. That was that. Love had nothing to do with it.
I thought I would quickly forget about her.
Whenever I got drunk, I always saw her face in the reflection of the glass. She started to appear in my dreams, where I saw her on my bed-where I saw her under me-but whenever I made love to her in my dreams, she called Vincent’s name. Then everything became a nightmare.
Fine. Maybe I did care a little bit.
Maybe I was just upset that for once, I couldn’t have the woman I was interested in.
But there was more to life than just women. There was my career, my education, and my family. A woman was just the
spice of life.
I remembered it clearly. It was 5pm on a Thursday, and after six months of negotiation, some geeky CEO of a tech startup signed a contract with me. I poured myself a glass of whiskey even though it was still early in the evening because I was over it. I spent the past months trying to get this freak out of his house, and now I could finally relax.
I needed to get drunk and I needed to get laid.
I pulled out my phone and was about to contact a woman I met a week ago. She had beautiful breasts and a s*xy, smoky voice. I imagined that she would’ve sounded like a wild cat in bed.
What was her name…? Doris? Christine?
While I was looking for her on social media, I received a friend
request.
My friend requests were always full of notifications from women, but amongst the avatars of beauty filters and cleavage shots, there was a pitch-black icon.
Usually, I ignored such requests from bland accounts like these.
But not that day. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the new business deal. In any case, I was in a good enough mood to indulge my curious side.
Then, I was stunned.
The black figure in the profile picture was a silhouette. No matter how hard I squinted, I could only make out red-tinted
edges around the figure’s head and shoulders. Typically, a picture like that meant ‘leave me alone, but I knew better.
It was Olive.
So I accepted her request.
In the dead of the night, when I couldn’t sleep, I would open her account and go through her posts. My personal favorite was one of her at the beach in the most enticing bikini…
I never expected I’d end up messaging her.
heyOlive: busy?
Oh, sh*t. Was she really talking to me?
I stared at the message in awe. With a deep breath, I swapped my glass of whiskey for vintage champagne from my cellar. It wasn’t the best I’ve had, but I couldn’t care less. I poured myself a glass and enjoyed the bubbly sensation in my mouth.
After just one glass, I was already feeling dizzy.
Amorris: ?
heyOlive: are you busy?
Amorris: No it’s cool. What’s up?
I waited for a while-a long while-but she eventually responded.
heyOlive: are you single?
My blood froze when I saw that sentence. What did she mean? Was she just curious?
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