by Aly Martinez
My bedroom wasn’t far enough away to escape. I needed a quiet place where she wasn’t writhing on the floor in a tiny pair of shorts so I could convince myself that it was a bad idea to listen to her tell me how much she used to want me—all the while inching closer, hell-bent on showing her how much I currently wanted her.
That was exactly what I’d been doing not thirty seconds earlier.
Yeah. Bad. Fucking. Idea.
It was bad enough that I now knew she liked my ass, but I did not need the visual of her touching herself for the first time with me on her mind too.
God. She was so fucking drunk.
So was I though.
And, right then, Drunk Quarry was about to make decisions Sober Quarry was going to have to answer for. Most of which started with my mouth on her neck and all of which ended with me emptying inside her.
What the fucking fuck is going on?
She used to like me?
Why did the idea of used to hurt so fucking bad?
Oh, right. Because used to wasn’t now.
Something truly odd had happened that night during our conversation. And not just the fact that she had been overtly flirty. While that had been new, it wasn’t what had set me on edge long before her visit to the drunken confessional on the floor.
When Liv had brought up Mia, I’d experienced the stab of grief I’d come to expect from memories of her. However, it hadn’t been anything compared to the searing pain that had come from watching anguish etch across Liv’s face. That had killed. I would have walked through Hell to extinguish that for her. Luckily, it had only taken a joke.
Guilt had engulfed me as I’d come to grasp that reality.
The source of my heartache was no longer Mia.
It was Liv.
Had I been sober, that would have been the moment I went to bed. Maybe get my head straight. Go talk to Till in the morning about what the hell was going on, see if he had any grand advice—which would probably just end with him making fun of me.
I wasn’t sober though, so I’d started flirting with her all over again.
And, now, I was standing in the breezeway, holding my breath, wishing I weren’t such a fucking mental case.
I was sick and tired of feeling like I shouldn’t want her.
There was nothing anyone could say to change my mind. I needed to man the fuck up and talk to her. Explain why I’d been so weird the last few months. Hell, maybe she’d be receptive of my new feelings.
Or, more than likely, she’d be freaked the fuck out.
I wouldn’t lose her though. I was positive of that. Liv wouldn’t let my misguided feelings ruin us.
No. Our demise would ultimately be because I couldn’t let her go.
To me, my feelings weren’t misguided. They weren’t weird. And they definitely weren’t wrong. I wasn’t a fool for wanting her as my own.
I was finally realizing what I should have known fourteen years earlier when I’d first laid eyes on her.
Liv James had never been just my best friend.
No matter what I’d told myself.
With new resolve, I squared my shoulders and headed back to my door. I would listen to any story she wanted to tell me about the past—especially the ones where she’d touched herself with thoughts of me. Because, when things went south—and, in my life, things always went south—those stories would be all I got of Liv.
I had her friendship.
I wanted more.
And, in that moment, I realized I wanted it all.
Pushing the door to our apartment open, I made the decision that I was done waiting to get over my feelings.
I was acting on them.
Right.
Now.
At the sight of Liv passed out on the carpet, I amended my timeline.
Tomorrow. I’d act on my feelings tomorrow.
After scooping her into my arms, I carried her down the hall to her bedroom. She was out of it, but she still curled into me, nuzzling my neck with a moan.
Gently placing her on the bed, I took one last eyeful and then dragged the covers over her. Pressing play on the iPad she kept connected to a set of small speakers, I drove out the silence with her favorite ’80s playlist.
“Quarry?” she called over the intro to Phil Collins’s In the Air Tonight.
“Yeah.”
She stretched before tucking into a ball. “You ’kay?”
“I will be tomorrow. Just get some sleep.” You’ll need it.
“Mmmhmm,” she purred. “Later, Q.”
I chuckled. “Later, Rocky.”
“LIV,” I BREATHED AS HER ass glided against my cock.
With a deep groan, I snaked my hand out to squeeze the delicate curve of her hip—partly to stop her tortuous rhythm, partly to urge her faster.
Rocking, she continued an unapologetic assault.
After teasing my way under her shirt, I kneaded her large breast. When my palm came in contact with her nipple, I switched my focus. Rolling the tight tip between my thumb and forefinger, I increased the pressure as her hips sped in response.
“Fuck,” I cursed, releasing her tit. I glided my hand down her flat stomach and into her panties.
She shifted to her back, her legs falling open in invitation. A growl vibrated in my throat when I reached her slick, wet heat.
One stroke down and I dampened my fingers before sliding back up in search of her clit. Rough circles followed by gentle taps, I worked her until her hips angled up, guiding me toward her opening.
This was where all the dreams had ended. The ones that kept me up night after night yet still managed to send me to bed praying for them to invade my mind. I supposed it was fitting. Some deep-seated but not-so-hidden feelings must have been screwing with my subconscious. Taunting me about having parts of Liv but not being able to have her all. I’d touched her body in my dreams a thousand times, but never once had I been inside her.
Tonight was different though.
With a hiss through gritted teeth, I sank my finger deep into her heat.
The tight sheath of her body was too much, and it drew me awake.
Battling against consciousness, I fought to remain in my dream-world. But it was one opponent I was no match for. My eyes slowly opened.
The strain of my aching cock was nothing new to wake up to.
However, the woman I was knuckle deep inside was something else altogether.
“What the….” I whisper-yelled, yanking my hand away.
Oh, but it got worse.
Taking a quick inventory, I realized that I was in my bed, slightly hungover, and thirsty as hell.
Oh, fuck.
My pulse spiked as I glanced down at the woman at my side.
Pink sleep shorts.
White tank top, lifted, exposing one perfect breast complete with a dark, peaked nipple calling for my tongue to lave over it.
Her head was resting on my outstretched arm, and her chest was evenly rising and falling. Long, brown hair covered her face, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt who it was.
Oh. My. God.
Liv.
She must have crawled into my bed at some point in the night, and my horned-out brain had taken it as an open-for-business sign.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I attempted to slide my arm from under her head, but it only caused her to turn toward me. Her hair fell away, revealing her wireless earbuds secured in place and two peacefully closed eyes. Snuggling in close, she tossed a leg over mine and her hand splayed over my stomach.
Okay. So we were cuddling.
Nothing wrong with that.
Friends could do that.
Maybe it would be nice. I could just go back to sleep and tell her that I’d accidentally-on-purpose felt her up in the morning—after she’d enthusiastically agreed to move our relationship to the next level.
Oh, but it got worse. Again.
I watched in both horror and anticipation as her hand began to inch down my stomach.
My panicked gaze bounced between her closed eyes and her hand making its descent.
No way. This was not happening.
I’d died and gone straight to Hell—where I belonged.
“Jesus fuck!” I yelled when her palm made purchase on my cock.
She suddenly sat up as I shot from the bed.
“It’s okay,” I soothed, recognizing the confused panic on her face.
When she caught sight of the tent in the front of my pants, her eyes flashed wide, and then her mouth started moving, but I didn’t have my hearing aids in.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” I told her while grabbing a pillow off the bed to cover my erection.
“What happened?” she signed and spoke.
“Um…well. Hmm, funny story. I woke up and you were there…and well… I guess I’m not used to sleeping with anyone else.” I couldn’t do this. Not right then, with a set of balls so blue that they were registering on the purple scale and a throbbing dick hidden behind a fucking pillow.
I needed a safe subject. As least until I collected my thoughts—or got struck by lightning, putting me out of my misery once and for all.
“What were you doing in my bed? You scared the piss out of me.”
Her face fell as she swallowed hard. “I heard a noise, and then I couldn’t…” She shrugged and shook her head, not wanting to continue.
I immediately hated myself for pinning this on her. She’d been secretly coming to my bed for years. Never once had anything happened. It wasn’t her fault.
“Look, I’m exhausted. Let’s talk in the morning, okay? Sorry I…woke you up like that.” Shit. “Not that it was bad. I just mean…because I jumped out of the bed like that.” Dear God, stop talking! “You know…’cause it scared you.”
“I’m sorry.”
My eyes were drawn down to her nipples showing through the thin cotton of her tank top, reminding me that she wasn’t wearing a bra—and how perfectly her breasts had fit in my palm.
Dropping my head back, I diverted my gaze to the ceiling. “Just. Go,” I snapped.
Strangely, Liv didn’t argue as she darted from my room.
Slinging the pillow onto the bed, I raked a frustrated hand through my hair.
Why? The night before I’d sworn to make a move on her…I’d literally made a move on her.
In my sleep.
While she had been asleep too.
What could have I possibly done in my past life to deserve this shit?
“Ohmygod. Ohmygod,” I whispered to myself as I sank down against my door, blocking it on the off chance that Quarry had decided to follow me.
Tears welled in my eyes as his horrified expression flashed behind my lids with every blink. My body shook as if I were still being jostled from his mad dash out of the bed—away from me.
“Oh, God.” Pulling my legs to my chest, I dropped my head against my knees. “What did I do?”
“JESUS, WOMAN. WHAT ARE YOU doing here so early?” Till asked, opening his front door with baby Chase on his hip.
Lifting a bag of sausage biscuits and hash browns, I replied, “I have a hangover date with Eliza.”
He pushed the door wide for me to enter. “Ah. Gotcha. I’ll start the coffee. She’s still asleep. You want me to wake her up?”
“Nah, I got it. Just deliver the brew when it’s ready.” I tickled Chase’s stomach before casually heading down the hall to Till and Eliza’s bedroom.
I knocked once before entering.
“I’m up!” Eliza said, dragging herself out of the bed.
Her light-brown hair was in complete disarray, and black eye makeup was streaked down her face. Her dress and her shoes were haphazardly strewn across the room. The small trash can on the floor next to her bed was telling of how she’d ended her evening.
“That good of a night, huh?”
Shaking her fist in the air, she headed toward the bathroom. “I didn’t puke. Victory!”
“Bravo.” I lifted my hand in sign language applause.
“I’m quite proud, actually. It was touch-and-go there for a while.” She smiled weakly. “Go ahead through the window. I’ll meet you in there after I brush the fur coat off my teeth.”
I laughed, following her directions.
Apparently, back in the day, Till had been a smidge obsessed with windows. When he and Eliza had built their house, he’d had a window, instead of a door, installed as the entrance to her private art studio.
The large room was filled with every art supply imaginable. Black-and-white family photos covered the stark, white walls. The furniture consisted of a red overstuffed sofa and a plush futon that was more Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous than broke frat boy. They sat adjacent to each other, facing a large TV mounted on the wall above Eliza’s desk. The guys called the room “Chick Central,” and I can’t say they were wrong. It was where Ash, Eliza, and I always seemed to migrate any time we were together.
After setting the bag of food on a small side table, I found the remote and pulled up the latest season of Project Runway. It was our go-to show and one of the few programs Eliza and I agreed on. She loved the artistic aspect of it, while I was enthralled with the fashion.
Eliza and I had a funny relationship. She was twelve years older than I was, and for all intents and purposes, she was Quarry’s mom. But she was also a lot of fun. When I was growing up, she had always been friendly with me, but it wasn’t until Ash had entered the picture that we’d really become friends. Ash and I had clicked right away, and eventually, she’d pulled Eliza into our fold.
The three of us planned monthly girls’ nights together, and in addition to weekly Page family dinners, we also did lunch once a week.
So, needless to say, I felt completely at home as I fluffed a pillow then dragged the blanket off the back of the futon as I waited for her to join me.
Tim Gunn was still giving the contestants their assignments when she made her way into the room.
“Why do I always think drinking is a good idea?” She grabbed the bag of biscuits and settled on the couch.
Catching the greasy sandwich she’d tossed my way, I replied, “No clue. However, I can promise you my drinking days are over after last night.”
“We said that after the Gala last year, too.” She nibbled on a hash brown, curled her lip, and then continued to eat. “Wait. You guys went home early. What happened after you left?”
My stomach rolled. Though it had nothing to do with my hangover and everything to do with the memories of the night before flooding my brain.
They were the same memories that had had me sneaking out of my own apartment at the crack of dawn in order to avoid Quarry.
The question should have been: What didn’t happen last night?
Drink too many beers. Check.
Flirt with my best friend. Check.
More drinking and then more flirting. Check. Check.
Tell him that I used to obsess over him until he runs from the house just to shut me up. Check.
Crawl into his bed in the middle of the night. Check.
Wake him up by groping his dick. Check.
Get kicked out of his room like a fangirl who, well…snuck into his room and grabbed his junk. Check.
Needing a cold shower each time I thought about it. Mother. Fucking. Check.
I kept that parade of embarrassment to myself.
“Oh, we just had some beers at the apartment.” I shrugged, turning my attention back to the TV, but my mind refused to budge from the whole Quarry thing.
“That sounds better than my night. I think I passed out on the limo ride home.” Eliza picked an errant biscuit crumb off the blanket.
“Meh. Could have been worse.”
“At the risk of skeeving you out, I think I was…um…on top of Till when it happened.”
My eyes flared wide.
She closed her eyes and nodded, embarrassed.
I attempted to hide my laugh but failed. I mentally pre
pared a hey-no-big-deal-you-passed-out-in-the-middle-of-sex speech when Ash saved me the trouble as she came crawling through the window.
“You were on top of Till when what happened?” she asked.
“Shit,” Eliza mumbled. “I, uh…may have passed out.”
“Jeebus! On the way there and home? I’d say Till got his money’s worth out of that limo,” Ash teased, flopping down at the foot of the futon.
“So, how was your night?” I asked, grabbing the bag of food from Eliza and throwing it down to Ash.
“Really good. I managed to stay awake and everything.” She winked at Eliza. “I’m so freaking tired though. Flint got me up after only two hours of sleep to come get the boys. I love my babies, but today is going to kill me. I need a night away to recover from my night away.”
“We’re having a hangover party. You can nap here if you want,” Eliza said.
“Nah. Thanks though. We’re gonna take the boys to that new park by the house.”
Till poked his head through the window. “Okay, ladies. Bad news. We’re out of coffee. But Quarry’s on his way over. He said he’d pick up Starbucks.”
Noooooo! my mind screamed.
When I felt all of their eyes land on me, I realized my mouth had screamed it too.
“Something against Starbucks?” Till asked.
“I’m just…not a fan.”
I touched your brother’s penis, and now, I’m scared he’s going to want to talk about it.
“Seriously?” Eliza gasped.
Dear God, please don’t let me have said that out loud too.
“You drink it all the time.”
Thank you, baby Jesus. “Yeah. I’m just sick of it. That’s all. It’s fine though. Really. Q knows my order.” I relaxed once they’d seemed to buy it.
“You got any soda? I need a barrel if I’m going to survive today,” Ash said, discarding her biscuit and moving Till’s way.
“I’m not sure about a barrel, but I have at least one in the outside fridge,” he replied, helping her through the window.
Two of her fingers shot back through the opening. “Peace out, ladies.”
We called after her.
“Bye.”
“Later.”
Then Eliza turned her attention my way. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You seem…weirder than usual.”