by Fields, MJ
When his eyes finally reach mine, we stare, frozen, watching each other. My lips finally separate as I whisper, “Hi.”
He walks up, taking each step like he owns the world and everything in it, including me. I already see a difference in him. In just these few months, he’s changed. More sure of himself—cocky. Which I must admit, is damn sexy.
I want nothing more but for him to swoop me up, take me to his room, and start off exactly where we left it. But I’m more than surprised when he stops short of touching me and stuffs his hands deep into his pockets. “I’m glad you were able to relax. Sorry I wasn’t able to pick you up.”
He’s got to be kidding me right now. Where’s my best friend? “Um, it’s okay. How have you been?” I reach my arms to wrap around his neck and hug him tightly, inhaling the CK One cologne I’ve always loved on him.
I get less than a tight hug, I barely get a light, friendly tap, and suddenly, I’m spinning in a world of confusion.
“What’s up? Why are you acting like this?”
He stands up straight, like he’s surprised I noticed anything was off. “What do you mean?” He goes to sit down on the chair next to where I was like nothing was weird between us.
With no clue what to say or how to react to his attitude, I say, “So…what have you been up to?”
“We were at a photo shoot that ran over. Things have been fucking crazy.” He sits back, lying his head down, letting out a sigh of exhaustion.
“But you’re enjoying it, right? I mean, I see you everywhere. Still crazy to see your photo on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store.” I smile.
He laughs in return. “Yeah, pretty crazy to me, too. It’s all just happened so fast. Still trying to take it all in.”
“Have you talked your dad?”
“Fuck no. He’s tried but everyone knows I don’t want any contact with him. Fuck him.”
I grab his hand the way I always have. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
He looks down at our hands, slowly removing his from beneath mine and starts to get up. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.” He stops short, standing tall and looking down at me with a crazy look in his eyes. “Can you cover yourself before we go in?” The tone of his voice and the sneer in his question stings.
I turn to grab the towel I was laying on. Before I can say anything, he walks back into the house, not waiting for me—leaving me lost in my thoughts, starting to regret coming here in the first place.
When I finally gather all my things and walk back inside, three guys and two girls greet me. They all stare my way like I have an alien head growing out of my neck. Self-consciously, I pull my things closer to my body, covering more than I had before, saying, “Hi, I’m Lily…”
I look around the room, but Trevin’s nowhere to be found.
Finally, one of the girls jumps up. “You’re the girl from the photo that in Trevin’s room.”
“Y–yes, that’s me,” I stutter, not sure what to say and sad to hear this girl has been in his room enough to notice the small photos on his mirror.
“Hmmm,” she says, eyeing me up and down in question.
Everyone else offers a semi-friendly hello as I walk by, heading toward Trevin’s room. He’s sitting on his bed, slumped shoulders, looking down, playing with the bracelet I started making him when he was nine. Remembering I’d made him a few more to make sure he had backups while he was here, I grab them and walk up to him. Separating his legs and squeezing between them, I see if I can start this whole hello thing over.
“I made you your next batch,” I tease as I hand him the bracelets.
He grabs them from me as his arms wrap around my waist and he settles his head against my chest, not trying anything but holding onto me tightly. I let him—shoot, I need him to hold me just as much as I feel he needs to.
We sit like this for a few minutes, not saying a word until he backs up, taking a deep breath and lightly pushing me to the side so he can stand.
“So, what do you want to eat? Should we see if the guys want to join us or go out by ourselves? I haven’t ventured out much, so I’m not really sure where to take you.”
Wow. What the hell is going on? Something is off, and I truly feel like this was a mistake to come here. This back and forth is a whiplash of emotional overload. He’s the one who invited me. I didn’t ask to come.
“Up to you. I’m okay with whatever,” I reply, sitting on his bed, completely deflated.
“Okay, well, I’ll go talk to them. Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll be out here when you’re ready.” He leaves the room without so much as a glance over his shoulder.
What. The. Hell?
I take my time getting dressed again, volleying with the notion of just leaving altogether. Trevin and I have been friends most our lives and it has never been like this. This is painfully awkward. Something’s up, and I just wish he would talk to me.
When I enter the living room, the guys are engrossed in a pre-season football game and the girls are vying for their attention. One in particular is sitting very close to Trevin, who’s staring off into space—lost in thought. I watch as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly.
Jealousy creeps up my skin like a nasty bitch when I realize one of the girls has her hand resting between Trevin’s thighs. When he finally notices my presence in the room, he stands, dropping the girl’s hand like he didn’t even know it was there and walks toward me.
“You ready?” he asks as he eyes me up and down once more.
I smile, still hoping I can start this visit over. “Yeah, what did you have in mind?”
“The guys suggested a place down the road. They’re all going to go. Should be fun.” He shrugs, but I get the feeling he doesn’t believe what he’s saying.
I haven’t seen him in six months, and it hurts he’s invited these people I don't even know to join us. It’s like he doesn’t want to spend any time alone with me, avoiding it at all costs.
But I didn’t invite myself here. He called. He wanted me here. He even paid for my flight. So I don’t understand the cold shoulder. If he didn’t want me here, he shouldn’t have bothered asking.
Dinner was exactly what I expected when he said everyone was going. I sat, barely speaking to anyone, and no one really talking to me. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I’m the outsider. The “normal” person in this rock-star world he’s entered. Even the two girls with us look the part—I definitely don’t. They have on their slutty skirts that barely cover their bottoms and short tops that leave little to the imagination, while I'm wearing a white, corduroy jean skirt and a printed tee from Aeropostale.
Once back home, they all talk about getting some beer and hanging out, but I’m not up for it. I’ve never been a drinker, and I don’t plan on starting now. Thankfully, Trevin agrees and follows me back to his bedroom.
“Sorry, I’ve had a long day with the flight and everything. I think I’m just ready to crash,” I say as I reach into my bag to pull out my pajamas.
“No worries. I’m beat, too.”
“Where am I sleeping?” I ask, not looking at him but purposely searching through my cosmetics bag for my toothbrush and toothpaste to avoid his face.
When he doesn’t answer, I glance up to see him sitting on his bed, slumped and staring down. I have to fight the urge to go to him—to comfort him. It’s the only thing I know, it’s the way we’ve always been. But it didn’t get me anywhere last time, and I’m not putting myself out there again.
Hearing me sigh, he looks up. “I thought we could just share this bed…if that’s okay with you.”
A pinch of hopefulness creeps in and I fight the urge to smile. “That’s fine. I’ll be right back.” I try to maintain my composure as I head into his en-suite bathroom.
After I finish my business, Trevin and I switch places, so I crawl into his king-size bed only to hear the shower start. I turn to my side, completely defea
ted by the day and ready to just sleep this awful feeling away.
I don’t hear him come out of the bathroom, but I smell the freshness from his soap. The bed dips down when he crawls in, but he stays to his side so I make no notion of acknowledgment that he’s here with me. With a small shake of my head in disbelief, I pretend to be asleep, curling up even more, pushing all thoughts out of my head and trying my hardest not to cry.
I hear rustling around before I feel the touch of his hand on the skin that’s exposed between my shorts and tank top. It’s soft, still callused around his fingertips, but his touch does the same things to me it always has. I don’t acknowledge it though, just let him leave his hand there, keeping my eyes closed and my back to him.
A few minutes later, he moves closer, wrapping his arm completely around me but not bringing his body to mine. I remain still, unsure of what he’s doing or thinking—I refuse to keep putting myself out there only to be denied. He tugs me slightly, pulling me onto my back and I let him. I don’t look his way or acknowledge him, but at the same time, I don’t stop him, either. His arm wraps around me tighter, pulling his body closer to mine so we’re in full contact.
We lay like this for what seems like an eternity—me on my back and him on his side with his arm draped across me. My heart pounds deep in my chest and my pulse races with him so close, but he doesn’t make another move. My entire being responds to him the way it has for the last ten years. The pull is undeniable—it always has been, but he’s fighting it so I am, too.
Just when I feel like this is it, he just wants to sleep holding me and isn’t going to make another move, he gets even closer. My body now fully engulfed by his, I turn my head to face him but stay on my back. Our mouths are inches apart, but it’s so dark, I can’t see anything; I just feel his minty breath blow across my lips.
My pulse races in crazy anticipation of his next move. I wait for him to kiss me, wondering if he wants to have sex with me again, though I question his reason for acting so strangely and pushing me away. The thoughts pummel me, leaving an emotional mess in their wake.
I should be pissed at him for acting the way he has today. But just as everything inside me tells me to move away from him, my heart begs for him to take me in his arms and make love to me again.
With questions flying around in my head, my heart feels like it’s going to explode. I want this so badly, but at the same time, not in exchange for the way he’s treated me today. Confused, I lie frozen, fighting an internal battle in my head.
The longer I think, the more I realize he hasn’t budged. We’ve been lying, inches apart for God knows how long, doing nothing but holding each other. The longer we lie here, the faster my pulse races. I realize I don’t care what will happen or what happened today, I just want something to happen.
I’d only have to move an inch for my lips to touch his. He’s made no further advance, and I wonder if I should be brazen enough to take what I want. He’s already turned down my advances twice, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it again. Trevin rejecting me is like a knife to the gut.
Just when I feel like my heart is going to explode from waiting, his lips crash into mine as he slides his body to cover me. I give in to him immediately, no longer fighting the internal struggle but loving the relief my heart is finally getting. His hands explore my body, and this time, they don’t stop. The hunger I saw in his eyes when we first saw each other, I now feel all over my body as he searches for more, devouring every inch of me in a slow, methodical manner.
Clothes are pulled from my body as I reach to pull down his boxers. Before I know it, he’s at my entrance. With a brief hesitation, he enters slowly, holding me tightly with his head buried in the crook of my neck.
His breath is ragged, strained, as he pulls in and out, clutching me like he’s holding on for dear life. I feel his need and completely surrender my body to him, giving him everything he needs and taking what I love in return. Him.
Meticulous in his movements, he slowly pulses in and out of me, kissing my neck, my cheek, and my lips, but never looking me in the eye. The first time we had sex, our souls united, we never slipped from each other’s view, our eyes were locked on one another. Now he doesn’t say a word. Just breathes, deep and strong, holding me tightly as his body trembles through our reunion.
I’m lost in emotions. This time doesn’t hurt as bad physically, but emotionally, I’m being ripped apart. He’s so loving yet so distant, leaving me in a mass of confusion. The way he holds me like he can’t get enough, but the fact he hasn’t said anything or won’t look at me speaks volumes about his desire for this to actually be happening.
I try to focus on the feelings he’s showing me with his body instead of his actions he’s taking away with his mind. Before I know it, I’m completely lost in sensation. The tingle grows lower in my belly and my heart starts to beat uncontrollably. His pace picks up, intensifying the feeling as my body ignites from below, freezing my movements in time as a rush flows through my body I’ve never felt before.
My head falls back and my eyes roll beneath the lids uncontrollably as he continues in and out until that one final slam inside me where he freezes from what I can only imagine is his own release. My body clings to his, clenching around him from the inside uncontrollably as the tingles slowly subside from my entire body.
We both lay there, not moving, not saying a word, just holding each other as our breathing turns to normal and reality creeps back in.
Without looking at me or saying a word, he slides off me and walks to the bathroom. I feel his cum seep out of me, but I don’t care. I roll over with my back to his side, cover myself and curl up, totally lost in my head, wondering what the hell just happened.
I feel him crawl back to bed, wrap his arm around me and we fall asleep without a word between us. Slowly, tears slip from the corners of my eyes that I try to ignore and hide from him.
* * *
When I wake up the next morning, he’s already out of bed, so I walk to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. I need some time to think about yesterday, but mostly, last night. I have no clue what is going on with him or with us, but this is definitely not what I expected when he asked me to come see him.
I take my time getting ready, and each second that ticks by is a second he doesn’t come to check on me, making thoughts of going home start to overwhelm me. I finally get up the nerve to head out, ready to say I should leave if he shows any signs of the way he acted yesterday.
When I walk to the kitchen, I see him standing at the counter. His shirt is off and his head is down, not moving—he stands eerily still. No one else is here and the house is quiet. I accidently hit the stool that sits at the counter and watch as Trevin jumps slightly, startling him from his trance.
Slowly, he turns around and I see the pain in his eyes before he wipes them away and puts a smile on his face. “Good morning.” He reaches to grab me a mug. “Coffee?” He holds it out in offering.
My eyes rake over his body, and that’s when I notice the tattoo that covers the left side of his chest, directly over his heart. He pauses as I take in the inked guitar with a lily coming up from the hole, breaking through broken strings with the word forever worked into the lines of the flower. When I look back to him, he quickly turns around, reaching for a shirt sitting on the chair and slips it on without saying anything else.
The sight of the tattoo gives me hope. I know it’s for me. Whatever’s going on with him must be overwhelming. I know deep down he cares for me, loves me even. I just hope I’m strong enough to let him.
Ten
I wanted her here, I wanted her near.
But when my eyes fell to her curvy waist
I felt that fear, I felt that hidden tear.
I just pray my two worlds someday will interlace.
- Trevin Allen
Lily – same day
I’m glad I decided to stay. Trevin seems to be more himself and we spent the day walking around Los Angeles, him actin
g like a silly tourist and trying to make me be the same.
Just like last night, everyone is at his house when we get back, and even though he walks in like nothing’s happened today, my heart sinks. I dread the same Trevin I had last night sneaking his way back into our wonderful day.
Unfortunately, I was totally right.
The minute we walk through the door, he drops my hand and walks to the other side of the room. He takes a seat on the couch and one of the guys throws him a beer. I sit next to him, not interrupting his conversation, and even though he makes room for me, he doesn’t make a move to touch my knee or wrap an arm around me like he’d done earlier.
The night drags on and the distance between us grows until it’s a wide valley. When he’s across the room, the same girl who questioned me yesterday sits down next to me. She’s smiling, but deep down, I feel a mean girl moment coming on.
“Hey, I’m Melissa by the way. So, how long have you known Trevin?” she asks with a plastic smile on her face. She’s as fake as the huge tits popping out of her shirt.
“Since we were eight years old,” I answer nonchalantly, trying not to engage her in more conversation than necessary.
“Wait, so that’s you in both of those photos on his mirror?”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my disgust at the thought of her being in his room. “Yes, that’s me.” I pause to prove my point. “In both photos.”
“Yeah, he’s told me all about you two. Pretty amazing really.”
I look at her, thinking I should smile, but in my gut, I don’t like where this is going. “Oh, yeah? What’s he told you?”
“All about you two.” She smiles snidely. “I can’t believe you guys can share a bed and have never touched each other or done anything. I sure don’t have friends like that, especially a guy who looks like Trevin. He’s so hot! How do you do it, girl? I can’t keep my hands off him and try to get in his bed every chance I get.” She eyes me up and down as she pauses, licking her lips before saying, “But obviously, he wants different things from me than he does you, and honestly, I get it now that I see you.”