I'm in It

by Tammy Falkner

  “Well, that too,” she says. “But mostly it was just another chance.”

  “And what did you say?”

  She blows out a breath through her lips, making them rattle. “I told him to go back home to Kathy.” She holds the ladle out in my direction. “Want some?” she asks.

  I eye the shovel she’s using for a spoon and then lean forward. She lets me take a bite off the end, and then she licks the backside of it.

  “This is what BFFs do, Mick. One of them has a bad day, and the other commiserates. Ice cream!” She scoops up more and holds it out toward me. I shake my head. “Do you want me to get you your own spoon?”

  “No, thanks.” I scrub a hand across my nose. “I should go. You seem okay.”

  She nods. “I’m okay.” She laughs. “You know, that’s the first time he’s ever come crawling back that I didn’t fall into bed with him.”

  “What’s different now?” I ask. I grab her wrist and bring the ladle toward my mouth, take a bite, and then let her go.

  “I think I am,” she says thoughtfully Then she laughs, but it’s a sound with no pleasure in it. “I’m different. I don’t know when that happened, but when I saw him tonight, my gut didn’t twist, my heart didn’t stop, and my girly parts didn’t go crazy.”

  “They didn’t?” I have to cough to clear my throat. Her heart may not have stopped, but I think mine just did.

  She shakes her head. “Not a bit.” She gets a dreamy look on her face. “He was really good in bed. Like, fantastic. Phenomenal. It was almost extra-terrestrial what he could do with his penis. Like, I expected that fucker to glow! Looking back, it was probably because he stuck it in every hole he could. He had tons of practice.”

  I scrub my hand across my forehead. “Okay, this is strange,” I say more to myself than to her.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re you and I’m me and I don’t usually talk about other guys’ ginormous dicks.”

  “I didn’t say it was ginormous. I said he knew how to use it.” She licks the ladle again.

  “Same difference.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Her face falls. She points to her ice cream, which is still nestled in the crook of her arm. “Are you sure you don’t want a spoon?”

  I shake my head. “So, you’re okay?”

  “Of course.” She leans back and says, “So do you want to talk about Shane’s dick some more?” She holds up her pinky finger and shows it to me. She starts to say something, but I grab her hand, push her finger down, and I lean over a few inches and press my lips to hers.

  She freezes for a second, but then she kisses me back. Her mouth opens and her tongue touches mine. She’s tentative at first, but my blood surges in my head and in all my other body parts all at one time.

  She pulls back first. In fact, she puts her hand against my chest and pushes. “Whoa,” she says. She licks her lips, sticks her ladle into the ice cream container, and sets it on the coffee table. “Why did you do that?” she cries. “Besties don’t kiss!”

  I swipe a hand down my face. “Sorry, but I don’t want to be your bestie.”

  “You don’t?”

  “And I don’t want to talk about the size of anybody’s dick.”

  “Okay…”

  “And I don’t want to let you think I’m not interested.”

  “Interested.”

  “Interested.”

  “In what?”

  “In you!”

  “Why?”

  I run my hand through my hair. “Why what?”

  “Why are you interested in me?”

  “Because you’re…you’re you, dammit. That’s all there is to it.”

  She snorts. “Me has never been enough to keep anyone interested, Mick.”

  “Maybe you should let me decide if I’m interested or not.” I tweak the end of her nose. “How about that?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. I gave you the completely wrong impression.”

  I sit back. “Wrong?”

  “I just got out of a shit-tastic relationship. I’m not ready for anything new!”

  “Well, get ready, Wren.”

  She jumps to her feet. “You have to go. Get out.”

  I stand up, thoroughly confused.

  She shoves my shoulder. “Out. Now. Out. Go.”

  “Are you angry?”

  “No,” she says on a sigh. “I’m confused. And maybe a little irritated, but not angry.”

  “What’s the difference between irritated and angry?” I ask.

  “Irritated is when you get sand in your shorts. Angry is when someone pulls your shorts down in front of people on the beach.”

  “Oh. So, you’re irritated by the fact that I kissed you.”

  “No, I’m irritated that you’re messing up our bestie-dom.”

  “Bestie-dom?”

  “You know, that kingdom where we’re BFFs and get to do lots of fun stuff together with no sexual tension.” She looks at me like I should already know what she’s talking about. “And now there’s sexual tension!” She shoves my shoulder again. “Out. Get out. I need to think. And my ice cream is melting. Out!” She pushes me toward the door.

  “Are you serious?” I go where she shoves me, but under protest.

  “Totally. I need to think. By myself. Out.”

  She shoves me through the doorway and I turn to face her in the hall. She slams the door in my face.

  Well, damn.

  I go back downstairs, and find Henry waiting by the elevator. “How is she?”

  I scratch my nose. “I’m not sure.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “Oh, she’s fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “She threw me out.”

  Henry grins.

  “It’s not funny.”

  He belts out a guffaw. “Oh, sure it is.” He laughs out loud some more. “You did something stupid and she kicked you out. What did you do?”

  “I kissed her.”

  “Ohhhh,” he says. And he nods like he understands, but I still don’t understand anything. Nothing at all.

  “What do I do now?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “On what you want.”

  “I know what I want.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Her. I want her and all that crazy BFF-penis-ice-cream-shovel funniness that’s her. I just want her.” I want a chance to get to know her. I want to ask her out. I want to find out who she is. “This is strange.”

  “Very.” Henry stares at me. “Are you drunk?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should start there. That always helps.”

  He pulls a bottle and two tumblers from a drawer in his desk. “Join me,” he says.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Henry tosses back a shot and I do too. I slam the tumbler down on his desk. “Again?” he says.

  “Sure.”

  “The first thing you have to remember is that you can’t fight with a woman unless what you’re fighting about is worth it. You just can’t. You won’t win. Never. Ever.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, start there.”

  “Now?”

  He pours me another shot. “I’d wait until tomorrow.” He motions for me to sit on the nearby sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll tell you about my Nan.” He grabs the bottle and follows me. “Settle in. It’s a long story.”

  Wren

  My phone rings, jerking me out of the book I was reading. It’s late, so I grapple for the phone on the nightstand, worried it might be one of my sisters. “Hello,” I say.

  “I have something that belongs to you down here,” Henry says on a heavy sigh. I sit up and drop my feet to the floor.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Mick. The boy can’t hold his liquor worth a damn. I need for you to come and get him.”

  “Did you get him drunk, Henry?” I ask.

  I can hear Mick singing loudly through th
e phone. “Now is not the time to discuss how it happened,” Henry says.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  I get up and slip on a robe over my T-shirt and boy shorts and I slide my feet into a pair of sandals. I go downstairs and step into the lobby of the building. It’s two in the morning, so I don’t anticipate running into anyone but Henry. Well, Henry and Mick.

  Henry looks up from where he’s sitting on a couch reading a magazine. “At least he’s a funny drunk,” he says. He nods toward where Mick is sprawled across the other sofa. He’s singing a dirty song about a guy named McSweeney who spilled some gin on his weenie.

  “Oh, my God,” I say.

  Mick opens his eyes and grins at me. “Hey Wren.”

  “C’mon, Mick,” I say. “It’s time to go home.” I look at Henry. “Did you call a car for him?”

  Henry shakes his head. “I tried. No one was available.”

  “I find it hard to believe that there’s no car available in the city, Henry.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Henry puffs out his chest. But he also won’t look me in the eye.

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “You should take him home with you and let him sleep it off,” Henry says. He busies himself cleaning off the coffee table and organizing the magazines.

  “You want me to take him home with me,” I say.

  “Well, it’s the most logical choice. I can’t just let him keep lying here singing at the top of his lungs, can I?”

  I suppose not. “Well, get him up and get him upstairs.”

  Henry hoists Mick to his feet and Mick stumbles across the room toward the elevator.

  “Careful, big guy,” Henry says.

  Mick sings softly to himself as we go up the elevator. There are more dirty limericks and more innuendo, and I catch Henry laughing into his fist.

  “I can’t believe you let him get like this,” I say, scolding Henry.

  “I can’t help it if the boy can’t hold his liquor,” Henry says. Then he grunts as Mick falls over into his shoulder. He shoves him to stand him back up straight.

  “Why were you even drinking with him?” I ask. “That’s the part I don’t understand.”

  “We were talking about life and love and my Nan…” Henry’s voice goes quiet.

  “And that involved liquor.”

  Henry grins at me. “All the best stories do.”

  “Well, I hope you’re happy with yourself. If he pukes on my floor, I’m going to make you clean it up.”

  “He won’t puke,” Henry says.

  We walk to my door and I open it.

  “Oh, look at the time,” Henry says. “I have to get back downstairs.”

  “Payback’s a bitch, Henry,” I mutter as he hastily retreats.

  “You’re not a bitch,” Mick says. He belches into his closed fist. “You’re awesome and cool and you’re my BFF.” He reaches for the belt of my robe and I yelp as he undoes it. His eyes roam down my body, his voice husky. “And you’re hot in those little shorts.” He closes the robe back up and ties the sash. “Got to put the hot stuff away. Dangerous when you’re BFF-ing. Seriously danger to FFBs. Like, might put the moves on you dangerous. Can’t be doing that with the BFF.” He points to the couch. “Can I lie down?” He weaves a little.

  “Go to my room. You can sleep in there.” I don’t have sheets on the beds in any of the other rooms.

  “Do your sheets smell like you?” he asks as he walks into the room.

  “I don’t know. How do I smell?”

  “Like clean skin and sexy woman.” He reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head, and then shoves his jeans down to his shins. Then he falls back on the bed wearing nothing but his boxers, with his pants around his ankles, his shoes still on.

  “Oh, good grief,” I say as I squat down and pull off his shoes. Then I pull his jeans off. “Up.” I tap his legs. He lifts them and slides beneath my covers.

  He grins at me. “I see why you like Henry so much,” he says.

  “And why is that?” I ask as I settle the covers over him.

  “He’s a cool guy. And he loves you.”

  My heart goes soft. “I love him too.” Even though he’s currently meddling in my life. I set a wastebasket next to the bed, just in case Mick gets sick. Then I turn to walk from the room.

  “Where are you going?” Mick asks, his words slurry and undefined.

  “To the couch.”

  He shakes his head, but this causes him to groan and he clutches his forehead. “Don’t sleep on the couch. I promise I’ll behave. Come sleep with me. Please.”

  “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

  “Fine, I’ll get up,” he says. He starts to sit up.

  “Why are you getting up?”

  “Because I can’t let you sleep on the couch. I’ll go to the couch, or you can come and sleep with me.”

  He moves to get up, but I stop him. What would it hurt to lie down next to him? Nothing.

  I turn off the light, shrug out of my robe, and drape it on the stool at the end of the bed.

  I stay on my side, but suddenly Mick groans and wraps an arm around my waist. He pulls me back against him, his front touching my back, and he holds me close.

  “Mick,” I whisper.

  “What?” he whispers back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to sleep.”

  “That’s all you’re doing?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he hums. “Holding you and sleeping. That’s all I want to do.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. I can feel the pressure, but not the kiss, and I hear the noise his mouth makes. “Go to sleep.”

  So, I do. I get comfortable, and I go to sleep with Mick’s arms wrapped around me. And I sleep better than I have in a very long time.

  Mick

  I wake up to a cold breeze tickling my naked back. The front of me is warm, because I’m pressed up against a soft body. I lift my head and brush the long dark hair from my face.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” a female voice says from the doorway. I look up to find my brother Ryan and Wren’s sister Lark standing in the doorway. Ryan leans casually against the doorjamb, his arms crossed in front of him as he smirks at me.

  Wren jerks from her sleep with a start. She reaches behind her and pats my hip. Then she rolls onto her stomach so she can look at me. “This can’t end well,” she says quietly. Then she buries her face in her pillow and groans. Her hair is a snarl of tangles around her face, and she’s never been more beautiful.

  “Get out,” I say to Ryan in sign language as I speak out loud. “Take your wife with you.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” he replies. He continues to smirk at me from the doorway.

  “You have until I count to five, and then I’m coming out from under the covers. And I might not have underwear on. I can’t remember.”

  Before I can get to two, Lark grabs Ryan and drags him from the room. The door slams behind them.

  “Last time I checked, you were wearing underwear,” Wren mumbles from against her pillow. Her face is creased from the sheets, and she squeezes her eyes tightly closed.

  “I know,” I reply. I brush her hair back from her face. “I just wanted them to go away.”

  “Do you remember what happened last night?” she asks. She rolls onto her back, and I immediately note that she’s not wearing a bra. I inch my hips back just a bit so she won’t realize how that affects me.

  “I had a sleepover with my BFF, I think.” I scrub my nose with my hand, trying to wake up.

  She snorts. “You got stinking drunk with Henry, and then you fell asleep in my bed.”

  “Neither version of the events sounds very romantic.”

  She lifts her head and glares at me. “Were you going for romance at all?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  She shoves my shoulder. “You can’t romance your BFF. It doesn’t work like that.”

  Someone should tell that to my dick, becaus
e he’s all about some romance. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I roll to a seated position on the edge of the bed. Wren’s fingers tickle my lower back. “Do that some more. It feels good.” I lean toward her hand.

  She smiles and her fingers play across my skin. And I can’t think of anything except how good it feels waking up with her and how I want to do it every day.

  A heavy knock sounds on the door. “Are you decent?” Lark calls out.

  “Not even close!” I yell back.

  Wren giggles into her pillow. “We had better get dressed. They’re not going to go away.”

  I stand up and shake my jeans out of the pile they’re in on the floor, and then tug my shirt over my head. It settles around my waist and I watch Wren lick her lips as she eyes the trail of hair that leads below my waistband.

  “BFFs don’t lick their lips at one another.”

  She buries her face in her pillow. “I did no such thing,” she murmurs.

  Oh, she did. And I liked it. I want her to do it more. “You sending me out to face them alone?”

  She nods. “I need a shower. And to brush my teeth.”

  “Do you want me to go home?”

  She quickly lifts her head. “Don’t you dare. It’s your fault they’re here. Go entertain them while I get ready.”

  I hook my shoes with my fingers and carry them to the door. But at the last minute, I turn back and go to her. I lean down and kiss her temple, and she lets out a happy little noise that’s somewhere between a titter and a sigh. “Thanks for letting me sleep over.”

  “Don’t mess up the bestie-dom, Shepherd!” she cries.

  I laugh as I go out the door.

  Lark and Ryan are in the kitchen, arguing with their hands. I stand and watch them for a minute.

  “There!” Ryan says. “Now you can go in.”

  “I could have gone in five minutes ago!” she shouts at him, her hands flying wildly.

  “They were in bed, Lark! And dickhead was probably naked!” He jerks a thumb toward me.

  “Why am I a dickhead?” I ask.

  Lark rolls her eyes and goes into the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

  “Now tell me how the fuck that happened,” Ryan demands.

  I go to the fridge and get a bottle of water. My head is pounding and Ryan isn’t making it better. “How what happened? And how did you get in?”