Archibald Henry Zhang is my best friend. He’s funny, feisty, and loving. He’s also the only person I’ve ever trusted and the only one who has never let me down. So why, after finding my current boyfriend cheating, am I taking my best friend out on a series of Valentine’s Day dates all over London?
Even more importantly, why am I noticing things about him that I’ve never seen in the ten years of our friendship? Like the fullness of his lips, how gorgeous his eyes are, and – maybe most importantly – the way he’s looking back at me?
Because Archibald Henry Zhang can never be anything other than my best friend. Can he?
From bestselling author Lily Morton comes a romantic comedy about how one wild day and night on the town can change two best friends’ lives forever.
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I sit in my car transfixed. Rain is starting to fall in a fine mist and every few seconds the wiper blades swish across and remove the moisture, revealing exactly the same sight as the one that had left me open-mouthed five minutes ago.
“Well?” a voice says in my ear. “Are you there yet? Is he surprised?”
I look at the two men humping each other against a car in a shady corner of the pub car park. “Not yet, but he will be.”
I sigh and bang my head against the headrest loudly, but unfortunately it’s too soft to do any damage. “I can’t believe this,” I say aloud. “How am I so fucking stupid?”
“What’s happened?” The light, amused voice in my ear turns abruptly wary and I clench my fist around my phone, wishing I could reach through the line and have him hug me. My best friend’s hugs are the absolute best.
“Well, far from being ecstatic that I’ve got back from my business trip early and in time for Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend of a year is currently too busy sticking his tongue down another man’s throat and dry humping him to notice.”
“What the fuck?” The outrage is clear in his voice, but that doesn’t surprise me. I’d be the same if someone had done this to him.
“Yep.” I watch my boyfriend’s blond head fall back in a way I’m intimately familiar with. “And he’s just come.”
“I hope it’s the last time he does come and eventually he’ll end up with such a huge back-up of semen that his balls will explode and he’ll drown in it.”
I blink and wince. “Jesus, is that an actual thing? Have you ever seen it happen?”
He huffs. “No, of course not. I’m a nurse, Mick. That doesn’t make me a world authority on every disease in the world. I work in Casualty. On a Saturday night it’s mainly drunk men and women crying and people with household objects stuffed in places they were never invented for. In fact, I wish that on the wanker. A hoover attachment might make him keep it in his trousers for once. What a fucking tosspot.”