Babydoll

  "Jesus, Haley," I gasped. She was never one to mince words.

  She shrugged.

  "Just trying to help him out," she said.

  "As much as I appreciate it, I think I'm good for now," he told her, with a chuckle. His fingers were tapping lightly on my shoulder and I swore I could feel their warmth through my sweater. "Time is on my side."

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  * * *

  Lane's teeth scraped across my collar bone and my hips came off the bed involuntarily, grinding into him. He chuckled as his mouth moved up my neck to my ear.

  "Like that?" he asked.

  I groaned and found his mouth with mine. It was a Thursday night, a little after midnight, and he should have left my house a few kisses ago. I hadn’t thought we'd be up that late. I also hadn’t known the spot he had just kissed would jolt electricity down my spine. I hadn’t known half the spots that Lane found would make my body react the way it did. He made my body come alive in ways I had thought only existed in cheap romance novels.

  As the winter melted into spring my will to keep layers of clothing between Lane and I melted away as well. When he crawled through my window, red cheeked from scaling the side of the house and the cold, he knew I would be waiting under the covers in nothing but my undies to warm him up. I loved the way cool denim and cotton t-shirt felt as I wrapped myself around him. He always smelled like outside and cologne and I couldn't keep from touching him. And kissing him. And nibbling those sweet spots on his neck and ears that made him groan and tighten his grip on my thighs.

  "You feel good," I whispered, wrapping my legs around him, pulling him as close as I could.

  "You feel amazing," he whispered back, slipping a hand between us to cup my sex.

  He used the heel of his hand to make the nerve endings sing and I couldn't help but whimper. I was shamelessly addicted to having his hands on me. I day-dreamed about it during class. When I wrote sexy scenes in my stories, I saw Lane's face. I wanted him all the time.

  "Please," I whined. I wanted the little lace shorts I was wearing out of the way. I wanted his hands on my softest skin. I wanted to feel him inside me, where no one else had been.

  "Please what?" he asked, and presses harder. I could feel his smile against my neck.

  I pushed against his hand, the tension in my body getting higher and higher. I wanted release so bad. I thought my fingernails were ripping through my sheets, I was twisting them so relentlessly.

  "More," I choked out.

  "More what, Baby-doll?" he asked, his hand rocking against me with maddening slowness. "More of my hand?"

  "Yes," I agreed. I wanted that. I wanted more than that. I didn’t know what I wanted.

  "Or how about my dick?" he asked, sounding wicked. I gasped when he uses the dirty word; he knew I would. He moved his hand away to brace himself and replaced his hand with the part of him he had just mentioned, he had on sweat pants and I could feel every inch of him. He rocked against me, using himself, to make me feel good. The look on his face showed equal amounts of pleasure and restraint.

  "Yes," I agreed again. That was exactly what I wanted. I wasn’t really sure I could handle it but I want it anyway.

  "Or," he said, softly. "How about my mouth?"

  I didn’t have time to answer before he slid down and I could feel hot breath on me.

  "Oh my God," I groaned.

  Hot kisses thorough my underwear. It was too much. It wasn’t nearly enough. Without another word he pushed the lace down my thighs and then his kisses were on my skin. I felt like I was burning up.

  "Mmmm," he sounded like he was eating the most delicious strawberry cupcake ever. That sound burned through me. It was the sexiest thing I had ever heard.

  I was on autopilot, back arching, hips twisting and bucking. My stupid underwear had my legs tangled and I couldn't get his mouth right where my body needed it.

  "Easy, baby," he said with a chuckle, leaning up. He tugged the constricting cloth down my legs and I kicked them to the floor. I grabbed the back of his head and pushed. I wanted to feel it again. My patience was completely gone. Instead of getting back to work, I heard his laughter from between my thighs. "Something you want, impatient girl?"

  "Lane," I huffed.

  The laughter stopped and his mouth returned to my skin. This time his probing tongue was right where I wanted it to be. He flicked and rubbed the sensitive nub and I was flying again. He took me higher and higher and then I was exploding.

  It was amazing. It was a thousand times better than any orgasm I had ever given myself. My eyes rolled back in my head and I thought I died for just a minute. No thoughts were coherent. I could barely catch my breath. And I was sleepy. And hungry. When I finally opened my eyes Lane was next to me wearing an amused smile.

  "Feel good?" he asked.

  "Mmmm," I hummed my approval, cuddling to his chest. "Very."

  "Was that your first orgasm? You know, with a guy?" he asked.

  I felt my cheeks heat as I looked up at him. How did he know?

  "Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

  He chuckled and pulled me in tighter.

  "You were perfect," he told me.

  B

  "Oh, my God. Fuck today," Haley groaned.

  She was super hung over. Apparently, while I was wrapped around my boy she was partying hard and our excesses left us both half asleep at the lunch table. She had been doing a lot of partying. Luke was graduating at the end of that month and the transition had her head kind of messed up. But I knew my girl was strong. She was going to get through it.

  "Well, if you two weren't partying it up on a school night you wouldn't be paying the price," Lucy admonished us with a laugh.

  Haley wrinkled her brow.

  "We weren't together last night," she said. Then she looked at me curiously. "Why are you so tired?"

  "Up late reading," I lied, without missing a beat.

  I should have felt guilty but I didn't. I felt like that explosion was worth the lies.

  "Of course you were," Haley said, rolling her eyes.

  I shot a sneer in her direction. I didn't get too mad at her grumpy mouth though. I knew that if she knew why I was really up all night her head would spin around like the Exorcist.

  "Not everyone could pull off the party girl life," Lucy shots back, throwing her arm around my shoulders. "Nothing wrong with Bailey being a good girl."

  I leaned my head against Lucy's, returning her affection. It was funny how quickly guilt could creep back in.

  B

  When the last bell rang it was like an angel singing. All I wanted to do was get home and get in bed. And wait on Lane to wake me up later on. I was grabbing my backpack out of my locker and there was already a small smile on my face at the thought of Lane creeping into my room when I heard his voice calling my name. It took me a minute to realize that it wasn’t my eager mind playing tricks and he was actually using my name. “Bailey” sounded weird coming from him. I knew something was up.

  For pretty much the first time ever Lane looked uncomfortable.

  "We need to talk," he said, nodding to an empty class room across the hall.

  I felt like one of those anvils had just dropped out of the sky like in the old cartoons. I followed him without a word.

  "You need to see this," he said quietly, handing me his phone after he closed the door behind us.

  "What- " I began and then my eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw the pictures.

  Her face was mostly obscured but I knew that mass of blonde hair. It was Haley. My Haley with two guys in the middle of a crowded party. While onlookers gawked, my best friend was practically in the middle of a three-way. One guy was in front of her with his mouth on hers and the other was behind her with his mouth on her neck and his hand creeping up her thigh. It was like looking at a car wreck. I wanted to look away but I couldn't

  "What the fuck?" I muttered.

  "Sweetheart, you need to get your
friend," he said, gently taking the phone back from me.

  "What… when… what the hell?" I stuttered. I was trying to ask about twenty questions at once.

  "Last night after I left your place I had to go to this party," he explained.

  "Did you say something to her? Did you stop… that?" I asked. Tears were welling up in my eyes. I could only imagine how humiliated she would be if the picture started circling around school

  "What was I supposed to do, snatch her and drag her out? I mean, it seemed like she was having a pretty good time," he said, with a shrug.

  "Then why the fuck did you even show me that?" I snapped. Then something else occurred to me. "What were you doing there anyway?"

  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

  "Look, I just didn't feel it was my place to do anything about Haley. But you’re her friend. Maybe you could…. I don't know… talk some sense to her or something. I mean I know she’s torn up about Luke but that’s probably not the best way to feel better," he said. "And I was there taking care of some stuff."

  "What stuff?" I asked.

  "Just some stuff. Nothing you need to worry about," he said, reaching out to touch my arm. "You've got to worry about your friend right now."

  I shrugged out of his grasp.

  "Yeah, I do," I agreed, and I headed out the door.

  B

  I headed over to Haley's house instead of going home. I kind of expected her to be asleep since she had been feeling so rough earlier but when I texted her from the doorstep she texted back to tell me it was open and to come on up. I thought about what I wanted to say the whole way there but I thought I'd be talking to the grumpy, hungover girl I had lunch with. I hadn’t considered the girl I would find would be speeding around her room rifling through clothes, throwing them this way and that. I hadn’t expected to see big black eyes with only a smidge of pretty violet.

  "Hey," I said softly, sitting on the bed.

  My friend grinned at me like nothing at all was wrong. I felt like everything was wrong.

  "What's up, Baby-doll?" she asked.

  "Uh… we need to talk," I told her. I perched nervously on the edge of her queen sized. I was prepared to jump up and offer hugs if need be.

  She arched a brow.

  "Are you breaking up with me, Bailey?" she asked, and then giggled.

  I managed a small smile.

  "No… Haley, I saw some pictures earlier… some pretty bad pictures. Of you. From last night," I explained.

  She looked indifferent.

  "What pictures?" she asked. She had her eyes on me for a moment but then she got distracted by a ring on her pointer finger, twisted around the wrong way.

  "Of you," I told her, widening my eyes with emphasis. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t focusing on what I was trying to tell her. I needed her to pay attention. I needed her to be concerned. "With two guys."

  Her fidgeting stopped and she narrowed her eyes at me.

  "What are you talking about, Bailey?" she asked.

  "You, with two guys all over you," I told her, my exasperation becoming apparent. Finally she was catching on that the conversation was really important. "From the party last night."

  "What do you mean all over me? What did you see, exactly?" She didn’t sound upset in the way I thought she would. She sounded pissed. I felt like that was a pretty reasonable reaction.

  "You were making out with one and the other hand his hand up your dress," I told her. "Were you too fucked up? Did they take advantage of you?"

  She rolled her eyes.

  "Jesus, you made it sound like sound someone had a Hustler spread with me in it," she said and turned back to the closet.

  I felt my jaw drop open because… what? I didn’t understand the lack of reaction. I didn’t understand how she could be so nonchalant.

  "Haley, it looked really bad. If it gets around school people are going to have a lot to say," I told her.

  Her shoulders shrugged.

  "Like I give a fuck what anyone at that school thinks," she said breezily.

  "Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered in disbelief. I couldn’t believe she'd be so flippant about this.

  "No, Bailey, I'm not kidding," she said, turning back to face me with her hands on her hips. The look on her face dared me to argue. Dared me to question. "I don't give one single fuck."

  "What about me? And what about Lucy? Don't you give a fuck that we're worried?" I asked. Her behavior had started to make me just a little crazy. I felt like I wasn’t getting through to her. I hated not being able to get through to her.

  "Worried about what? That I might be having a little too much fun?" she fired back.

  "Fun? Fucking around with two guys is fun? Doing whatever that shit is that makes you all jittery and crazy is fun?" I snapped. "What's going on? Is this about Luke? This isn't you Haley!"

  My concern was answered with another eye roll.

  "Oh, Jesus, spare me the dramatics, Bailey," she said, shaking her head.

  "Dramatics? I'm worried about you," I told her, throwing my hands in the air. I wanted to shake her until her teeth rattle.

  "I'm fine, thanks," she told me. "And as far as what is and isn't me, who are you to tell me who I am?"

  I pulled back as if she had slapped me. It felt like she had, but with her words.

  "I thought I was your best friend," I replied.

  That seemed to resonate with her. She sighed.

  "You are Bailey. And that why I'm going let you in on a little something. You have zero idea about what's going on around you," she told me.

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  I didn't know what she was getting at. I didn't even know how the conversation had suddenly turned around on me.

  "Bailey, you’re naïve. And you’re the worst kind of naïve. You’re willfully naïve. You’re trying to stay a little kid and ignore all the real world shit. You can't do that forever," she told me. "I'm just growing up. This is what growing up is."

  I looked at her like she was crazy. I could only assume it was the drugs talking. I couldn’t imagine my best friend really saw me that way.

  "You have no idea what I'm going through," I said, quietly.

  "What, your favorite character in your favorite book died? You got a bad case of writers block? Come the fuck on, Bailey,” she laughed with another eye roll.

  "So should I just start spending my time getting coked up like you?" I snapped.

  She chuckles humorlessly.

  "Because you’re little miss drug free zone? What about your sweet, sparkly cigarette case? Those sure as shit aren't candy cigarettes in there," she said, with a knowing smirk.

  "That’s not the same thing," I said, uncomfortably.

  "Why because weed is from the earth? Or is it just because it's your little habit?" she demanded.

  "Weed doesn't fuck you up like that and you know it," I said. I knew how lame the response was as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

  "What I know is you’re being a wee bit of a hypocrite, sweetheart," she told me. It looked like she was going to say more but a horn blowing outside stopped her. She moved to the window and pulled back the curtain. "Look, that’s Mack. I gotta go."

  "But-" I couldn’t believe she was just going to walk away from our conversation. To me, it felt like it was miles away from being over.

  "But nothing, Bailey," she said, with a tired sounding sigh. "I'm living my life. You live yours. If we can still be friends that’s great. If not… then, whatever."

  With that she grabbed her bag off her dresser and walked out the door while I sat there feeling shell shocked. I couldn’t understand why my oldest, best friend was actively trying to flush her life down the toilet. And I didn't understand why she would say all that shit about me. I didn't understand how what was supposed to be an intervention of sorts got so fucked up and turned around. I didn't feel like I was understanding much of anything.

  B

  Lane
came to my house early that night. Because I called him. Because I was emotionally exhausted and I couldn’t stop going over and over the horrible fight I had with my friend. I shh-ed him, when he crawled through the window because my dad was still up. When I had last checked he had been down in the kitchen pouring over files. I knew having Lane there was risky but my dad was engrossed in his work and I felt ok with my door locked and a hiding spot at the ready under my bed. Lane took one look at my face and pulled me down on the bed, into his arms.

  "Tell me," he said.

  So I told him all about it. I told him how worried I was about Haley's lack of concern over the pictures and her habit. I told him how bad it hurt, feeling like I was losing my friend. And I cried. I cried until my tears dried up. He held me tight the whole time and I felt like I could rest all my weight, all my problems right in his arms.

  "So what are you going to do?" he asked when my tears subsided, and I sat up next to him.

  "I don't know," I sighed. "I don't know what I can do. I mean she lashed out at me. I was just trying to help. She called me a hypocrite. And willfully naïve. What is that even supposed to mean?"

  Now that I could see past the sadness and the hurt, I felt a little offended.

  "That’s not right, right?" I asked, turning to Lane, looking for reassurance.

  When I didn't see the consolation I was looking for I felt my brow furrow. Instead my boy kind of shrugged.

  "That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting," I said.

  "I'm not saying the way she went about it was right but you do kind of hide from reality," he said with another shrug. I was getting really tired of people shrugging at me.

  I could see he was trying to phrase his words delicately but they felt like a punch to my gut. I was getting the idea that everyone in my life thought I was a child.

  "You think I'm willfully naïve?" I asked him, bluntly. I could feel my pulse beginning to race even though I was trying to keep calm.

  "Shit, Bailey, don't be mad. I just… it's just… I mean look at us. You don't take responsibility for this," he said, gesturing between the two of us. "You said you would but you haven’t stepped up yet."