The Boy Next Door by Annabelle Costa Read Free Book Online

says. “You’re my best friend and it kills me that you don’t get along with my girlfriend. It’s important to me.”
    I hear myself agreeing to his request, because it’s honestly very hard to say no to anything Jason asks of me. Even though I know this is going to be one of the most painful dinners on record.
    Before you think I’m some kind of evil person trying to wreck all of Jason’s relationships, let me assure you that I’ve actually made an effort in the past to get him to hook up.
    I know Jason dated some girls in college, but when we first reconnected in the city, he was very single. He also seemed to have zero interest in dating, which seemed crazy for a virile, young 25-year-old banker. He might have been a paraplegic, but he was also pretty good looking. I had to believe that some girl would fall in love with those green eyes. But he said that his work kept him way too busy, which I guess was true to some extent. He worked pretty much 16-hour days or longer, and often both days of the weekend.
    “Aren’t you horny?” I asked him. I still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of action Jason had going on below the belt, but I was pretty sure there was something going on. After all, he kept those Playboys around for some purpose.
    “It’s not like going without food,” Jason replied, despite the fact that sometimes it seemed like he was going without food a lot of days too. And sleep.
    I was on a personal mission to sleep with every guy in the city (or at least every musician) so it seemed criminal to me that Jason obviously hadn’t had sex in probably over a year. “I’m going to hook you up,” I said.
    “Uh, that’s okay,” Jason said.
    “I want to,” I insisted. “Tell me what your type is.” I really had no idea, since Jason had never expressed any interest in any girl in high school and I’d never met any of his college girlfriends.
    “I don’t think I have a type,” he said, which I never really believed to be true, although I’ve admittedly never figured out what his type is.
    Somehow I zeroed in on my roommate Alyssa. Alyssa was also a waitress, which is how I met her, when we were briefly working at the same restaurant and hit it off. She was trying to make a go of it as an actress, thinking maybe the competition would be less in New York than in LA. Alyssa loved to act, but I never had the heart to tell her that she probably wasn’t pretty enough to be an actress. Actually, Alyssa and I lost touch and I have no idea what happened to her acting dream, but I’m fairly sure she hasn’t made it big or anything. I mean, you haven’t seen any movies or TV shows with an Alyssa Robertson in it, have you?
    Anyway, while Alyssa and I were watching Frasier reruns one night, I said to her, “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”
    I was pretty sure she wasn’t. Alyssa’s love life was usually about as dire as Jason’s.
    “No,” she said, munching on one of the granola bars that she seemed to eat about a dozen of per day. “Why?”
    “Would you go out with a friend of mine?”
    “Depends who.”
    “His name is Jason.”
    Alyssa swallowed some granola. “The guy in the wheelchair? Nuh uh.”
    “What? He’s cute.”
    “I’m not going out with any disabled guys,” Alyssa said, crinkling her nose. “Christ.”
    “Why not?”
    Alyssa shook her head. “If he’s so great, why don’t you go out with him, Tasha?”
    Alyssa’s reaction was typical of what I got from all the rest of my friends. There were even a few girls who I knew for a fact were not very discerning, and even they said no. I didn’t get it, except maybe they equated his disability with being mentally challenged. Which was ridiculous, since Jason was one of the smartest guys I knew.
    A few weeks later, I was at dinner with Jason and he casually asked, “So how’s the hunt to set me up going?”
    And I burst into tears.
    Jason was shocked. He rubbed my shoulder while I sobbed, “I’m sorry, Jason. I