by B. B. Reid
His hands stayed put.
“Before I take you home, we need to get some understanding.”
“Wasn’t that what we were doing inside?”
He simply squeezed my hips in response.
“I can’t always be around, Lou.” The clench of his jaw made me wonder if it bothered him more than he let on. “I have to trust the Hendersons to keep you safe. I have to trust you to stay safe.”
It was my turn to feel frustrated as my leg bounced. “I’m never going to be the girl who waits like fine china to be dusted off and played with, Wren. I know what I’m doing out here. I won’t break.”
One of his hands left my hip and pressed into my thigh. “It’s not just about staying alive,” he argued through gritted teeth. “When you run from them, you run from me.” The fingers still curved around my hip were now digging into my bone, but I hid my wince and welcomed the pain. It gave me an inexplicable sense of comfort to know I affected him. Perhaps more than a best friend should.
“What can I say? Some girls want to be chased.”
“You are not some girl. You’re—”
His mouth pressed into a tight line, and I knew his hesitation wasn’t because he struggled with finding words. Wren was a man of few words because he always chose them with care and purpose. He knew exactly what he’d been about to say, and so did I.
My girl.
He almost said I was his girl.
Feeling triumphant, I decided to throw him a bone. “You can’t be too upset with me. I let you find me, didn’t I?”
“You let me?”
“You can’t catch me by surprise if I know you’re coming.”
“Then why run?” His frustration rang loud and clear.
“I told you…sometimes a girl needs to be chased.”
He went completely still. “So this is about you feeling ignored?”
“Neglected,” I corrected. “It sounds less unreasonable.”
He stared at me for a long, long while. “If we weren’t in a public place, you’d be over my knee right now.”
“You’re the one who wanted understanding.”
“Lou, I was working.”
“I know. You were doing bad things for a bad man.”
“I was Exiled before I met you, and I’ll be Exiled long after you’re gone.”
I frowned feeling like he’d struck me. “Where would I go?”
His head lowered but not before I saw the light blink from his eyes. “To greener pastures.”
Cupping his cheek with my palm, I forced his gaze to meet mine. “Not without you.”
I let Wren take me home where he made me shower after claiming he found me so quickly because he could smell me a mile away. I squealed—mouse, indeed—and fled before he could see my red cheeks.
Upstairs, I let the shower water warm until it was nearly scalding. For thirty minutes, I scrubbed, and when I thought I was clean, I scrubbed some more.
Downstairs, I emerged wearing my comfiest pajamas with water still clinging to every strand of hair. The Hendersons were probably at the church or out to dinner, which left me maybe a couple of hours to ease the tension lining Wren’s broad shoulders.
I considered offering him a massage but realized feeling those muscles for too long would only make me tense.
Drinking it is.
I’d ply him with the stash Mr. Henderson kept hidden from his wife and hope that he’d be too plastered to drive home. I knew he’d stay if I simply asked him, but where was the fun in that?
“Eat,” he ordered after setting a steaming bowl of mac and cheese with bits of bacon mixed in just the way I liked it.
He didn’t wait to see if I obeyed and started cleaning up. “Aren’t you going to have some?”
“I don’t eat pork.”
My fork paused at the entrance of my mouth. “You Jewish or something?”
He grinned but shook his head as he tested the water for warmth. I was glad one of us found this funny. He never told me.
I said as much.
“You never asked,” he shot back, and it was unfair. So fucking unfair. If this was payback for running away, then consider me punished and then some.
Flogging would have been more merciful.
He was too focused on his task, frowning as he scrubbed cheese from the small stockpot, to notice what his accusation had done to me. My fork clattering to the table drew his attention, and he stared at it before turning his scowl on me.
“Are you saying I’m self-centered?”
“I’m saying it’s not a big deal, so don’t make it one.” He rinsed the suds from the stainless steel and moved on to the wooden spoon Mrs. Henderson often used when mixing cookie batter. Seeing him so domesticated did something strange to my insides, but so did his nonchalant regard for my feelings.
Images of us having angry, hateful sex on the counter and then the kitchen floor after flashed in my mind. If only we had become lovers instead of friends that stormy night…
I shook away the madness clouding my mind.
Any other ties would have unraveled a long time ago because Wren and I were too alike.
Aggressive. Controlling.
Sensual nights would have become battles for dominance.
I picked up my fork, silently conceding, and dug in. It took me a while to realize Wren was watching me with lips tucked in and blue eyes gleaming.
“What’s so funny?”
“You have macaroni on your chin.”
I felt around for it, and just as I grew frustrated enough to leave it, he took pity on me—the calluses on his thumb scraping my skin as he wiped the cheesy shell away.
His rough yet gentle touch jumpstarted my clit until it purred.
It’s better this way.
It’s better this way.
It’s better. This. Way.
“Thank you.”
He only nodded—his eyes darkening to a shade of blue I’d never seen—before moving away to finish the dishes. When he finished, he took out the trash, and I tried not to seem too eager for his return. However, it became impossible after only a couple of minutes. I forgot all about shame as I listened for his footsteps and watched the open entry. By the time five minutes had passed, I was on my feet and headed for the front door.
I had already sworn in the few steps it took me to reach the door that our friendship would be effectively over if he’d left without a word.
But when I ripped open the front door, I suddenly wished he had left. Instead, he stood with the bag of trash still in his hand as some jogger wearing hot pink spandex pawed at him.
Her smile said she wouldn’t think twice about blowing him right there on the street, and the wide smile Wren returned told me he’d welcome it. I didn’t recognize her, so I assumed she lived somewhere close by.
Not for long.
Intending to find out where the bitch lived so I could burn her house down, I stalked toward them on quiet feet. Wren sensing my approach, peered over his shoulder, drawing the whore’s attention.
Wren’s expression became wary when I flashed her a welcoming smile.
“Hi, I’m Lou!” I held out my hand, and she took the bait, shaking it with a firm grip.
“Alex.”
“Wow! What a lovely name for such a handsome man,” I flirted. And then I smiled in secret glee at the nearly silent “fuck” Wren uttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” she squealed. “I’m a woman!”
“Oh!” My hands flew to my mouth as I pretended to be horrified. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry! It’s just that your Adam’s apple was throwing me off.”
I didn’t make out most of the threats she’d screamed because Wren had already swept me off my feet and hurried me back inside the house. The moment the door shut behind him, I laughed my ass off until he swatted it.
Hard.
I was still in shock long after he’d set me on my feet.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded. Before I could answer, he th
rew up his hand, halting me. “Don’t answer that because I shouldn’t be surprised. I really shouldn’t.”
I rubbed my sore cheek after the initial sting dulled into an ache. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”
“And what should I be thanking you for? My blue balls?”
“No, from the train wreck waiting to happen. Alex was so not the man for you.”
“Cut the crap, Lou. That was a woman, and you know it.”
“Could have fooled me.” I headed for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, and when I returned, his eyes were moving back and forth, desperately trying to recap the encounter.
I snorted.
Men.
“There was no Adam’s apple,” he said as I uncapped the bottle and took a swig of water.
He sounded less sure this time, and when I only shrugged, steam practically blew from his ears. Alex had indeed been a woman. Beautiful and lithe and a hell of a lot more Wren’s speed than any of the others.
Bitch had to go.
“Fine. Then go after her.”
But he wouldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t.
And it wasn’t because I made him question her gender. Wren had been hit on by men before, and just like the many women he found no interest in, he was always gracious when he turned them down. No, he wouldn’t go after her because he would have done far worse in my shoes. I’d die a virgin if Wren had any say.
The look he threw me said he knew I was bluffing. Sighing, he did the only thing he could. He rubbed his forehead and stared at the floor.
“Why are you so upset?” I asked as I sipped at my water. “Alex is one woman. There is plenty of fish out there.” I knew I’d been cruel, regardless of the reason, and if I ever saw her again, I’d apologize profusely…and then I’d warn her to stay the hell away.
“Yeah?” He lifted his head, and our gazes connected. “Then tell me why I’ve been fucking my fist ever since I met you.”
I choked on my water.
He held me hostage with his stare, showing no mercy as I fought to catch my breath. I blinked away moisture pooling in my eyes and rasped, “I didn’t need to know that.”
Regardless, it lingered in my mind, poking and taunting, daring me to do something about it.
“Really? I thought you’d be happy to know.”
“Why would you think that?” I squeaked.
“Because you’ve been cockblocking me for two years, and I want it to stop.”
I didn’t need to question if he was serious. I may not have known he didn’t eat pork, but I knew that tone and that sniper-focused intensity. Still, I heard “I’ll stop if you stop” and knew that sultry voice belonged to me.
He went so very still, his eyes now a telling blue as the temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Gray meant he felt nothing, while blue…blue meant he felt everything.
“What did you say to me?”
His sharp whisper had me taking a step back even as my nipples threatened to pierce my camisole. I hadn’t realized he was closing in or that I hadn’t stopped backing away until my back was against the wall and he was caging me in. His forearms were on either side of my head, ensuring I couldn’t escape. With nowhere to go, I did the only thing I could. I lifted my chin and met his gaze.
“You want sex?”
Heat shot from my belly to my core at what sounded like an invitation—a promise to fulfill my every need or desire no matter the cost to our friendship.
“I—” Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I kept whatever I’d been about to say from escaping. Unfortunately, it also drew Wren’s attention to my mouth.
He was still staring at my trembling lips when he said, “Speak up, Lou. I can’t hear you.”
I tried, but the words became lodged in my throat. As if sensing this, Wren’s right hand curved around the column of my neck where he caressed my skin.
I felt each sweep of his thumb in every nerve and the warning behind it.
“Look at you…virgin pussy ripe for the picking, and you’re just dying to hand it over to some undeserving guy. And the icing on the cake, or should I say the cherry on top, is that you can’t even admit it to your best friend. Why is that?”
Because the undeserving guy is my best friend.
And there was the undeniable truth, out in the open—at least in my mind. I could never go back to a time when I was blissfully unaware, and I hated him for it.
“I don’t know, Wren.” My voice was cold but clear. “Could it be the same reason you’ve allowed me to stand in your way?”
I saw the guilty shift of his eyes, felt his thumb pause, and wondered if he could feel my galloping pulse. “I guess we’ll never know.” Regret laced every word, but we both pretended not to notice. “You’re tired. Go to bed.”
It took a moment for the command to register—especially since he made no move to put much-needed space between us.
“It’s the middle of the day.”
“Think of how well rested you’ll be when morning comes.” He jerked his head toward the stairs. “Go.”
I didn’t argue again when I realized he was giving me an out. With all these ‘not so new but no longer dormant’ feelings stirring in my gut, putting distance between us was ideal.
“Good night, Wren.”
“Good night, Lou.”
I dipped underneath his arm and headed for the stairs. Once I reached them, I looked back and found him with his hand still braced on the wall, his head dipped low and his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon.
I ran up the stairs before I could say something brash…like showing him everything I was thinking and feeling. Inside my room, I collapsed on my bed, and as Wren predicted, I was out within minutes.
The summer was winding down, and so was my patience. I promised Wren I’d be a good girl and stay put—his exact words—and in exchange, he’d come around more, but so far, I’d been the only one holding up my end of the bargain. Okay, so he’d managed to keep his word for like a month and a half, but for the past three days, he’d been missing in action, and no amount of phone calls or texts would gain his attention.
If that was the way he wanted to play it, then so be it.
I’d been ‘missing’ for less than a day when he suddenly appeared in my camera lens. I’d been preparing to take a shot of Leo performing a Sex Change and ended up capturing Wren’s face instead. Incidentally, it turned out to be a pretty good picture. It captured his seething anger in vivid detail.
I wasn’t surprised that he’d found me so quickly since I hadn’t made it difficult. I’d been hanging out all day with Miles and Leo at Astoria, one of the local skate parks in Queens. It was only a few blocks from where I lived with the Hendersons.
Lowering my camera, I feigned innocence with a smile. “Hey, bestie!”
Rather than return my greeting, he crossed his arms and pinned me with a glare. “Why didn’t you go home last night?”
I shrugged. “I was waiting for you to give me a ride.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he swore before exploding. “Running away from home because I won’t cater to your every whim is fucking childish and stupid, Lou!”
Some of the skaters came to a screeching halt at the sound of Wren’s roar, and I could feel them watching. Miles and Leo were also tuned in as they approached with cautious steps. Still, I was calm and very much used to Wren yelling. I expected it. Hell, sometimes I even got a thrill from it.
“And not taking two seconds to pick up the phone and tell me you’re alive is fucking selfish and cruel, Harlan.”
He stared at me for a long while as if considering my point, but I knew before he spoke that I wouldn’t get through. We’d had this argument countless times before. No matter how fast we’d grown up, there were times like these when I was reminded of how young we still were. Our emotions and how we handled them said it all. We both knew we lacked the maturity to deal with a connection this intense, and the wise choice would be to take a step back, but we were also
so very stubborn.
“Let’s go.”
“I promised Miles and Leo I’d get some shots for their Instagram. If you want to take me home, you’ll have to wait until I’m done.”
His eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer until I could see nothing else but his chest. “Did you hear me giving you a choice?”
“No.” I lifted my chin until our eyes met. “But I have one…whether you like it or not.”
He chuckled and then leaned down until his lips touched my ear. “You’re right. You do have a choice. You can leave here on your own two feet, or I can carry you.” His hands then found my hips and squeezed. “Don’t fuck with me right now, Lou. I promise you that me causing a scene will be the least of your worries.”
I was about to tell him exactly how I liked my ass kissed when I heard someone call his name. We both turned our heads, and I saw some guy who looked like Sung Kang from The Fast and the Furious movies approaching.
“Wren, bro, is that you?”
Wren let me go with a look of surprise. “Sonny?”
“Jeez, man, I thought you died or something!”
Wren laughed, and for once, it wasn’t a sarcastic or pissed off one. I blinked a few times because, at that moment, I hardly recognized him. The guys shared a manly embrace before Wren answered him. “Nah, I’m not dead yet. What have you been up to?”
“I should be asking you that!” Sonny chortled. “Me? I’ve been doing much of the same—fucking and skating,” he said with a shrug.
“You’re like thirty-five. You haven’t settled down yet?”
“Nah, man. These girls, they’re smarter now.”
“You mean they know you’re full of shit?”
“Exactly.”
Miles and Leo were standing next to me now, and I felt one of them nudge me—most likely Miles—but I couldn’t look away from Wren and Sonny. As Wren talked with his friend, he seemed younger, lighter, more playful—as if he’d been transported back in time.
“So what are you doing here?” Sonny inquired. “Please tell me you’re here to give me some competition!”
I frowned, wondering what alternate universe I’d been transported to. Wren didn’t skateboard. At least, not the Wren I knew.
“I don’t skate anymore,” Wren announced, shocking the hell out of both Sonny and me but for different reasons.