Blindsided By The Boss

1 - Callum

"Now, there's a woman whose lips I wouldn't mind having wrapped around my cock," Aaron, my best friend from high school, said, smacking my arm and bringing me out of the thoughts of excuses I'd like to use to leave this wretched festivity.

I turned in the direction of his finger and his eyes—immediately spotting a beautiful brunette dressed in a sheer black mini-dress that hugged every delicious curve of her body. She was talking and laughing with another delicious-looking brunette with red streaks and long fucking legs—both looking to be dressed for going out clubbing instead of for a wedding. "Fuck, man," he smacked my arm again, "isn't that brunette to die for?"

Both women were attractive, and women I wouldn't mind showing a good time, but I already checked them out earlier when I was looking for an escape, and they're already spoken for. So, curious to know if we were eyeing the same two women since the room seemed to be filled with brunettes, I fucked with him by asking, "Which one?"

"Both of those brunettes dressed in black, as a matter-of-factly." He knocked back the last of his scotch, and as he stood, he chuckled, "I'm going over to them to see if they'd be interested in having a threesome."

You're in for a disappointment, bud. "Or an orgy..." I hinted, sipping my as smooth as butter—scotch whiskey—Johnnie Walker Blue. "A fivesome may be a bit too much for you."

"What?" he asked, confusion written all over his face. "Only two women I see here are worth my time—not four."

Should I save him the embarrassment and fill him in before he pisses off two hot-heads—ending in someone going to jail, or should I let him find out on his own?

A best friend would join him in on the party—if they were single, that is.

A good friend would tell him they didn't come here alone to spare a fight from happening.

And a shitty friend wouldn't say anything to really get this party started and to see him shit his pants when two guys confront him—starting a wedding reception brawl.

I may be looking to end this night with a bang. But what I won't do is risk having my face plastered all over the news because of a fight I could have stopped before it even started. It's not how I want the night to end. I grabbed his wrist and forced him back onto the barstool. "Sit your ass down. I won't allow you to go to them to embarrass yourself."

Looking extremely annoyed, he groaned, "What do you mean? They're not dressed to be here. They're dressed to kill—for a good time." He grinned, emphasizing, "A very good time."

I motioned for the bartender to refill our empty glasses, then shifted to face Aaron. "They may not be dressed for a wedding such as this one, and yes, they're dressed like they're looking for a good time, but it could be those women have other engagements to attend to because they did not come here alone."

He looked around the room of three hundred-plus people, then returned his eyes to me. "I don't see anyone keeping their eyes on them."

When I saw the two men who came in with the women standing behind Aaron, waiting to be served, my lip curled up, and I jutted my chin for him to take a look. "If you're curious about who they are, turn around. And if you're interested in knowing if they're willing to share, let me know. I'll find someone else to help me get through this night with."

That said, I faced the bar, lifted my drink to my lips, and watched from the corner of my eye to see what Aaron would say or do. "Wazzup," he said, snapping his chin to them, causing me to chuckle lowly and shake my head. "You guys going clubbing with those two hot chicks in the black mini-dresses later, or what?"