My Best Friend’s Shared Boyfriend - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading My Best Friend’s Shared Boyfriend, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of My Best Friend’s Shared Boyfriend.
Honestly, if I hadn't been blindsided the second I walked in and saw those three strung-out losers, I could've wiped the floor with them under normal circumstances. But there they were—drugged, desperate, and completely off their heads—and for a split second, I froze.
Then he walked in.
Warren Roland had Felix Winston by the throat like a ragdoll. He glanced at the two unconscious bodies on the floor, then locked eyes with me. And damn if I wasn't caught off guard again—because I actually recognized him.
"Warren Roland?" I blurted, equal parts confused and weirdly amused.
He tossed Felix onto the pile with a thud.
"Surprised, Evelyn Roscente?" That grin of his—still the same reckless charm from back in the day.
I called the cops. Five minutes later, they hauled the three idiots away. With the living room surveillance footage, their fate was sealed—no confessions needed.
By the time Warren and I walked out of the station, it was past 9 PM.
"You owe me," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "After the night we just had? Hotpot. Barbecue. Your pick."
I rolled my eyes but took him to my usual street stall.
We ate, we drank, we traded half-hearted small talk. I wasn't in the mood for nostalgia, so I downed three beers in silence, but the weight in my chest didn't budge.
Because now I knew. Felix had always been into drugs. If I hadn't taken Luna in, if Quentin hadn't gotten hooked because of her… maybe things would've been different.
We were supposed to get married next month.
In one day, I lost my best friend and my fiancé.
Warren snatched the bottle from my hand. "Keep going, and you'll be face-down in the noodles."
I smirked. "Funny. I remember you being a chubby little coward who hid behind me in fights. Five years later, and you're tossing drug dealers around like laundry?"
"Training." He grinned when I brought up the past. "You did reject me because I couldn't fight."
I leaned in, teasing. "So what, you never got over me? Stalked my socials, waited for your moment, and now you're playing hero?"
"Would it work?"
I held his gaze, my smile sharp. "What do you think?"
He didn't answer.
I didn't need him to. Women know. Especially me. One look, and I can read a man like a billboard.
The fact that I could joke about it said everything.
I drained my beer and stood. "Nice try, but no. You were never my type. Thanks for the crush, but no spark means no spark. And after today? I'm done with love. Career only."
His expression flickered, but I was already walking away, swaying slightly under the streetlights.
The next afternoon, the paperwork was done. Warren transferred the money—even after knocking $20K off, I still walked away with nearly $50K profit.
Now what?
I'm impulsive. One minute, I'm all about building an empire. The next? Staring at $8 million in my account, all I wanted was to disappear.
So I quit. No more streaming. No more past.
Luggage in hand, I booked a one-way ticket and settled into first class.
Then the seat beside me dipped.
I turned—and nearly choked.
Warren flashed me that infuriating grin.
"Chasing you," he said. "Got a problem with that?"
Then he walked in.
Warren Roland had Felix Winston by the throat like a ragdoll. He glanced at the two unconscious bodies on the floor, then locked eyes with me. And damn if I wasn't caught off guard again—because I actually recognized him.
"Warren Roland?" I blurted, equal parts confused and weirdly amused.
He tossed Felix onto the pile with a thud.
"Surprised, Evelyn Roscente?" That grin of his—still the same reckless charm from back in the day.
I called the cops. Five minutes later, they hauled the three idiots away. With the living room surveillance footage, their fate was sealed—no confessions needed.
By the time Warren and I walked out of the station, it was past 9 PM.
"You owe me," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "After the night we just had? Hotpot. Barbecue. Your pick."
I rolled my eyes but took him to my usual street stall.
We ate, we drank, we traded half-hearted small talk. I wasn't in the mood for nostalgia, so I downed three beers in silence, but the weight in my chest didn't budge.
Because now I knew. Felix had always been into drugs. If I hadn't taken Luna in, if Quentin hadn't gotten hooked because of her… maybe things would've been different.
We were supposed to get married next month.
In one day, I lost my best friend and my fiancé.
Warren snatched the bottle from my hand. "Keep going, and you'll be face-down in the noodles."
I smirked. "Funny. I remember you being a chubby little coward who hid behind me in fights. Five years later, and you're tossing drug dealers around like laundry?"
"Training." He grinned when I brought up the past. "You did reject me because I couldn't fight."
I leaned in, teasing. "So what, you never got over me? Stalked my socials, waited for your moment, and now you're playing hero?"
"Would it work?"
I held his gaze, my smile sharp. "What do you think?"
He didn't answer.
I didn't need him to. Women know. Especially me. One look, and I can read a man like a billboard.
The fact that I could joke about it said everything.
I drained my beer and stood. "Nice try, but no. You were never my type. Thanks for the crush, but no spark means no spark. And after today? I'm done with love. Career only."
His expression flickered, but I was already walking away, swaying slightly under the streetlights.
The next afternoon, the paperwork was done. Warren transferred the money—even after knocking $20K off, I still walked away with nearly $50K profit.
Now what?
I'm impulsive. One minute, I'm all about building an empire. The next? Staring at $8 million in my account, all I wanted was to disappear.
So I quit. No more streaming. No more past.
Luggage in hand, I booked a one-way ticket and settled into first class.
Then the seat beside me dipped.
I turned—and nearly choked.
Warren flashed me that infuriating grin.
"Chasing you," he said. "Got a problem with that?"
End of My Best Friend’s Shared Boyfriend Chapter 8. View all chapters or return to My Best Friend’s Shared Boyfriend book page.