Friend Zoned

Friend Zoned Evelyn Sola Contents Copyright Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Epilogue Acknowledgments Also By Evelyn Sola About Evelyn Connect with Evelyn Copyright © 2023 by Evelyn Sola All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [include publisher/author contact info]. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. Book Cover by Sarah Kil Creative Studios Editor: Your Editing Lounge Chapter 1 Aiden I’d rather be at home watching Colt Chastain on ESPN than pulling up to this palatial estate on a Saturday evening to attend his impromptu wedding. But he’s not only my favorite basketball player, he’s the most mature guy on the team. There are about a dozen cars in the circular driveway, all of them worth a hundred grand or more. Well, except for the black Toyota Rav4 in front of me. As I park, both front doors of the Rav4 open, and an older black woman steps out of the passenger side looking around in awe. It’s a cold December evening, and she’s wearing a long red wool coat. She says something to her companion who has stepped out on the driver’s side; she’s a young, black female, dressed in black from head to toe. She’s even wearing a big black hat, the kind a widow might wear to bury her husband. The kind of hat that seems more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding. The older woman, who appears to have a noticeable limp, rounds the vehicle to the driver’s side and pulls the hat off her companion’s head. She says something I can’t hear, so I roll down my window. Normally, this type of thing doesn’t interest me, but watching them has piqued my curiosity. “Hey! Give me back my hat, Mother.” The younger woman’s mother throws the hat in the car, slams the door shut, and blocks it with her body. “This is a wedding, not a funeral. Don’t embarrass me.” “You’re the one who begged me to come with you,” the younger woman says. “You know I don’t like to drive at night, and I don’t beg. I call and you come. If you call me, don’t I always show up?” She crosses her arms and waits for an answer. “Yes, fine, but I don’t see why I can’t wear my hat.” “There are lots of young football players here.” The older woman pats the younger woman’s face. “Smile. You are pretty when you smile. These men are rich,” she whispers. Unless Chastain invited a football team, I think the older woman has her sports mixed up. The younger woman is not impressed either way. “Oh, great. I can’t wait.” Her voice drips with heavy sarcasm. “I hope I can restrain myself.” When she opens the back door to pull out a big black purse, I get my first glimpse of her face and it is flawless. Smooth brown skin made up, but light and natural. Her short hair whips around the top of her head in the heavy winds. “Why didn’t you wear something more festive? It’s almost Christmas.” “Mother, are you going to criticize everything about me all night?” “Yes, I’m your mother. That’s my job.” She pats her daughter’s face again. At that, I laugh. The younger woman holds a hand up and looks away, pretending to be offended. “I will fight you, old woman.” She drops the purse and holds two fists up. The two pretend to box, and it’s clear neither one of them knows what the hell they are doing. They wave their fists around and bump them into each other until the mother wraps her arm around her daughter’s. “Let’s go. Remember what I said, Jeannie. Don’t embarrass me.” Jeannie. Somehow the name fits her. “I’ll try not to get drunk and do a strip tease.” I wouldn’t mind seeing that. Despite the long coat covering her body, I can tell she has a nice shape underneath. She’s tall, too. Several inches taller than her mother. A heavy gust of wind blows, and the two let out a giggle and speed walk inside. I turn my car off and step out into the wind to follow them. The moment I get inside the mansion, I’m greeted by a server holding a tray of drinks. There are several different cocktails, but I grab a glass of red wine and move further into the home, noticing the white chairs set out for the wedding in the formal living room. I take off my coat, and someone takes it, handing me a ticket to retrieve it later. I look around and spot the mother and daughter. They’re on the other side of the room, and Jeannie is helping her mother with her coat before shrugging off her own. I was right. She’s tall and lean, with nice hips, a firm ass, and a perfect set of breasts. That’s a woman’s body. She’s wearing