by Kyra Fox
“Stop!” I yell out to the empty room and crouch down on my heels, taking deep, steadying breaths, fighting back the doubt that Trista is suddenly interested after all these years only because I gained a few pounds of muscle.
She isn’t like that, she’d never do that to me, to us. She’s always loved me for who I am, I don’t doubt that. I just need to figure out if her love flows as deep as mine.
Trista
“Yes…” I let out a soft moan as hands caress me, and a tongue glides over my skin.
“We’ve only just begun,” a deep baritone voice rumbles in my ear with a grin. “Are you ready, Kitten?”
I jump up in bed when my phone starts ringing.
“Damn it!” I throw myself back on the pillow with a groan. “That’s the best part of the dream.”
As far as recurring dreams go, I won the lottery. Sure, it isn’t ideal to have a sex dream about your roommate-slash-best-friend, and I’d love to blame the bizarre moment we had at the sushi place today as the catalyst, but this is a dream as old as time, and I’ve come to accept it as a thing that happens and make peace with it, especially considering the dream sex is better than any real sex I’ve had. Then again, sex in my head has always been better than sex in my bed.
Bada boom!
Okay, that was actually kind of sad.
Anyway, point is, emotionally, I’m closer to Brian than I have ever been with any guy I’ve slept with, so he’s the one that ended up as my subconscious go-to fantasy guy. Well, him and Charlie Hunnam.
“Hey,” I answer Phoebe with a groggy voice.
“Hey, come online,” she commands and hangs up, leaving me staring at my phone, wondering if I’ve got the guts to disobey her and go back to sleep.
Nope.
I pick my laptop off the nightstand and fire it up, logging on to the video chat.
“Hi, Tris,” Zoe’s voice booms through the speakers, and she smiles through the screen.
“Go get a drink, we’re having a proper happy hour.” Phoebe looks at me pointedly, and I scoff.
“I literally just woke up,” I state.
“And…?” Phoebe gestures with her hand and sips her wine.
“Fine,” I relent with a grumble and take my laptop down to the kitchen, fixing myself a tequila sunrise. “Happy?”
“Yes,” Phoebe approves with a smug smile.
“How was lunch?” Zoe leans back and inspects me in a way that makes me a bit uncomfortable.
“Good, I managed not to spill anything on myself.” I contemplate mentioning the almost kiss, but decide against it. It’ll just open a Pandora’s box of secrets that will do nothing but ruin the most important relationships in my life.
“You guys probably had a lot to catch up on.” Zoe’s still scrutinizing me, and even Phoebe is starting to look at her like she’s crazy.
“Yeah, he looks like he’s doing well.” I look down at my drink and chew on the straw before taking a sip.
“Mac’s been a good influence on him.” Zoe glows at the mention of her fiancé, and I can’t help but melt a bit from her joy radiating through the screen.
“B’s really connected with Mac, hasn’t he?” I can’t help the pang of longing for the days I was his go-to gal, his confidant.
“Are you jealous of Mac?” Phoebe glares at me, apparently amused with my response.
“What? No!” I protest her audacious assumption.
“Oh my God, you are!” Zoe bursts out into laughter, and Phoebe joins in, leaving me staring daggers at them both.
“I am not jealous!” I declare. “I’m happy Brian found someone like Mac, he’s never had a lot of friends his age and hasn’t had a close guy friend since…”
I stop myself from completing the sentence.
“Since Andy.” Phoebe finishes for me. “You’re allowed to say his name, Tris, it’s been five years.”
“Right, sure.” I scrunch my nose in thought. “I’m not jealous of Mac and B’s relationship. I just wasn’t prepared for how much he has changed.”
“Yeah, he grew a lot this past year,” Zoe agrees.
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve seen him maybe twice, and we’ve barely spoken.” Phoebe shakes her head. “Which is as much my fault as his, I know.”
“At least you didn’t try like crazy and still got nothing.” I try to sound light-hearted, but who am I kidding? It stings like hell.
When I left for LA, Brian immediately pulled back. No matter how much I chased him, he barely spoke to me. At first, I thought he was mad at me for leaving. That he was having as difficult a time adjusting to my absence as I was having to adjust to his. But seeing how happy he is, how good he looks, and how far he’s gotten while I wasn’t around, I realize he’s genuinely been better off without me. Something he must have figured out for himself, which is why he’s been keeping his distance.
“Come on, Tris, he missed you like crazy,” Zoe speaks in her soft voice, the one that forces you to listen without her being forceful. “He had a rough year.”
“I know.” I busy myself with my straw, not wanting them to see the tears threatening to burst out.
“Oh, hun, want me to kick his ass for you?” Phoebe sees right through me, and I laugh.
“Would you?” I joke, and Zoe rolls her eyes with a smirk.
“Hoes over bros.” Phoebe points at the screen and smiles.
“I just wish I knew why he was so distant.” I sigh.
“He’s been working through a lot of Sebastion issues,” Zoe elaborates. “It hasn’t been easy on him.”
“I can imagine.” I really can only imagine, since he hasn’t let me in, but anything pertaining to his biological father has always been rough on Brian. That monster of a man really did a number on him, and as much as he’s confided in me over the years, I suspect there’s still a lot I don’t know about what exactly happened, considering how solid, logical Brian gets so rattled by the mere thought of Sebastian.
“I’m glad he’s with you these next couple of weeks,” Phoebe admits with a sad smile. “With all due respect to Mac, some things can only be made better with a kitten.”
“Oh my God, you guys are terrible.” I can’t help but laugh as the girls clutch their stomachs, howling with delight. “Why am I still your friend?”
“Because we’re awesome,” Zoe declares with a flip of her hair.
“How are the wedding plans going?” I ask, deciding to change the subject.
“Good.” Zoe’s smile radiates with delight. “Can you believe I’m getting married in five weeks?”
“Can you believe it’s only been seven months since Phoebe sent you wearing nothing but lingerie to Mac’s apartment so you could score a one-night stand?”
“Did I ever thank you for that, by the way?” Mac scoops Zoe out of her chair and sits in it with her in his lap, his panty-melting grin, as Zoe calls it, decorating his ruggedly handsome face. As usual, this time of day, he’s been cooking. Flour is sprinkled all over his dark shirt and jet-black hair as his kind emerald eyes smile at us.
“You did not,” Phoebe answers with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re in breach of the contract.”
“His shirt stays on, Phoebe!” Zoe scolds, and I can’t help but laugh at them.
“What are the plans for tonight, Tris?” Mac asks, and I shrug.
“Dancing,” I provide, and Mac narrows his eyes.
“Brian dances?” He sounds skeptical.
“When they were kids, Trista somehow got him to take lessons with her,” Phoebe explains. “He’s actually really good.”
“Well, that just went on my bucket list of things I have to witness before I die.” Mac chuckles and just as I’m about to dish out a reply, my phone pings, and surprise, surprise—it’s the man of the hour, asking what to wear.
“That was B, I need to get ready,” I inform them, moving the straw aside and chugging down the rest of my drink.
“Have fun, kisses to B.” Phoebe waves.
“Don’t do anything I would
n’t do.” Zoe winks at me and earns herself a heated look from Mac.
“That sounds like a challenge,” he rumbles out, and I snort.
“Okay, that’s my cue to leave. Bye, guys.” I log off and let my head drop to the counter. Taking a deep breath, I stand and climb back upstairs, answering Brian that he should wear a tight t-shirt and a pair of jeans, knowing full well he’ll show up with a loose T or a button-down on top of the tight one.
Throwing my phone on the bed and stretching out before walking the short distance to the shower, I wonder why Brian still insists on hiding his amazing physique. Even before his gym sessions with Mac, he was easy on the eyes.
I guess he’s so used to being appreciated for his brain it’s awkward for him to be looked at as if he were a piece of meat. His brain is the most beautiful part of him, I’ll admit, though his eyes are a very close second.
“Okay, Trista, snap out of it,” I scold my reflection. “It’s one thing to subconsciously dream about your best friend, it’s a whole different rodeo to daydream about him.”
Turning on the shower, I sigh, resigning myself to the fact there’s really only one way to solve this.
You’re up, Charlie.