Best Friends Novels & Stories

“Sure about that? You look like–” “Shut it! We're late for prom!” I blurt out, glaring daggers at him. The atmosphere feels tight with tension, and every breath I take makes me feel like I'm suffocating despite being in such a big room. I bite hard on my lips, trying to ignore the pooling feeling of anxiety growing within me. Everything about my fantasy is so wrong. Xander's my best friend, and he even has a girlfriend–well, an almost girlfriend. We even made a promise to never see each other romantically, but since I discovered my addiction to erotic books, I've found myself blurring the lines between platonic and romantic friendship.

But the bad days were fewer now, and the good days were starting to outnumber them. I'd made new friends. They were gentle in a way I hadn't known I needed. There was a girl named Priya from creative writing club, who laughed like thunder and never let me wallow for too long. Leo, who was quiet like Marcus but warmer, somehow. He always ran with me in the mornings and never asked about my past. And Sam, who brought me coffee every morning without being asked, just because. They didn't know about Ethan and Mia. Not the full story. I'd told them bits and pieces—enough to explain why I sometimes went quiet, why I flinched at certain names. They didn't push. They just stayed.

About everything except James and Ashton. It felt normal. It felt good. Then a woman approached their table. "Lucy? Lucy Hart?" Lucy looked up. Her face broke into a smile. "Oh my God. Tasha?" The woman laughed and ulled Lucy into a hug. "It's been years." "Since college." "Since graduation." Tasha pulled back. Looked at Sloane. "Who's your friend?" "This is Sloane. My best friend." Tasha extended her hand. "Nice to meet you."

You could ask me if I’m in love with my brother’s best friend and I would tell you with a straight face absolutely fucking not. Kane Wilder is my brother Landon’s best friend, a.k.a a pain in my fucking ass. I met him for the first time when I was six.

“No, honey. This is Sloane. His best friend. I told you they were coming.” Julian raises one skeptical brow. “Best friend? Is that the woke word for girlfriend?” “No, silly,” she chides. “Friends with benefits then?” “NO!” Finn and I both shout at the same time. Julian looks between us like he’s trying to solve a conspiracy theory. Then turns to his wife. “Men and women can be best friends?”

COLEEN There are two types of best friends. The first kind brings you soup when you're sick, offers gentle advice when you’re heartbroken, and gives you quiet comfort when the world feels too loud. The second kind bursts into your room at 9 a.m. the morning after a very important hockey game win, yelling, “The only reason why you would be blushing like the cat that got the cream is if you were thinking about Hayden and I can bet my first kid that I’m so right!”

Even when we already had one, as I remember. “What the fuck are you two doing here? I thought I asked you to leave.” “We knew you were bringing her, and we didn’t want to miss her again like last time,” Luke answered, and Dylan sighed. “So, are you going to introduce us?” “No,” Dylan was quick to say. “Well, no need then.” Luke smirked, which made Dylan lift a brow, obviously not used to Luke giving in so quickly. “Hi again, I’m Luke, Dylan’s best friend.” He came toward me, extending his hand for a handshake.

“She’s the best, man.” “Sarah too,” Marcus said. The words came out easy. They’d said versions of this a hundred times over the years. They’d been best friends since they were eight. Same neighborhood, same schools, same stupid inside jokes that still made them laugh at twenty-six. Girlfriends had come and gone, but Sarah and Jenna had stuck. The kind of relationships that made people say they were lucky. Tonight was supposed to be nothing. Just two friends drinking and talking shit while their girls were busy. At Tyler’s place, bottle of whiskey is already half gone. The game on the TV had long since stopped mattering.

"I had also seen your posts with Cody. Haven't you outgrown him yet?" I rolled my eyes, grabbed my phone, and headed for my bedroom. "It’s a best-friends-for-life thing, mother. I could never outgrow him." "Don’t tell me you two are already having sex?" I grimaced instantly. "Ew, gross, why would you even think that?" "Come on, you are both adults. Everyone knows males and females can't stay that intertwined forever. Either you like him, he likes you, or — worst of all — you are copulating."

"Friends. Just friends." Atasha "Just friends" is the biggest lie Khalia Salvador has ever told herself. Forty minutes later, the atmosphere inside Wildflour Uptown was loud, buzzing, and completely claustrophobic. The restaurant was packed with the usual corporate crowd, but our table felt like the epicenter of a localized storm system. Bea and Mark, our friends who had watched us grow from broke architecture students into functioning adults, were already three cocktails deep. They had practically pulled us into the booth, forcing Khalia and me to sit right next to each other on the plush leather banquette.