“Maybe I should’ve asked if you minded me inviting myself to your apartment.” Thankfully, we were alone in the elevator on the ride up. I worried about someone recognizing him, and I wanted him all to myself.
“I don’t mind, but I’m warning you our apartment is tiny.” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Shit, you should’ve seen the first apartment I had when I moved out of my parents’. It was a two-bedroom, one bath, and I shared it with three other guys. It was fucking small as hell.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
Encountering no one on the short walk to my apartment, I unlocked my door. “So, how long are you here?” He’d traveled light, with a single backpack I hadn’t noticed before.
Regret flickered in his eyes. “Only for the night. I have to fly out again tomorrow.”
“You know you’re crazy, right? Geez. Can I get you anything? Are you hungry, thirsty?” My tiny kitchen seemed even smaller with his giant presence leaning against the counter.
“You have a beer?”
“Let me check. Kinsley may have a few in the back from when her boyfriend was here.” Moving the contents of the fridge around, I found two beers at the back where I figured they’d be. “I make no promises they’re still good.”
“They’ll be fine. Thank you.” He twisted the cap off the first one.
“So you’ll have to sleep on the couch. We don’t have a spare bedroom.” Chewing on my lip, I took in his height and looked around him to the couch. “Um, it’s going to be a little short.”
“Unless you let me sleep with you.” Mischief twinkled in his eyes. That was the second time since that day in the coffee shop that he’d made sexual innuendoes, and it had my lady bits in overdrive.
“Umm….” A fine tremor shot down my spine.
“Stella, I was kidding.” A chuckle escaped him. “You should see your face.”
I slapped my hands to my face; the heat radiated to my palms. “What’s wrong with it?”
The chuckle progressed to laughter. “Nothing, babe. Your eyes went huge and your cheeks were flaming. It was cute. I really was just teasing you, even though I’d never try anything on you. You’re my friend. I’d never disrespect you like that.”
What if I wanted you to? Stop it, Stella. Jesus.
Taking another swallow of the beer, he watched me as I followed the movement of his throat. I honestly couldn’t tell you how a man drinking could be sexy, but he sure made it that way. Pretty sure between his bed comment and his simply swallowing, my panties were ruined.
“Well, then if you promise to behave, you can share my bed. Since you’re so tall, it would probably be more comfortable than the couch.”
What? What the fuck was that? No! Stupid mouth not communicating with brain. Shit.
“Seriously? I really was joking. But I have sleeping pants and a T-shirt I can wear. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers if you want.” Setting the empty bottle in the sink, he smirked.
Rolling my eyes at him, I exhaled. “Logan, I trust you. Besides, if you were on the top of the covers it would make me feel trapped. No thanks. Come on, I’ll show you around and you can get changed so you’re comfortable. The tour won’t take long.” I snickered, then pointed at the door to the left off the small living room. “That’s Kinsley’s room; mine’s to the right.”
Sliding open the pocket door, I stepped into my small but cozy room. Pointing to the only door, I told him, “Bathroom’s in there; towels are under the sink. Feel free to shower if you want. I’ll shower after you.” Turning on the bedside lamp, I crossed my arms.
“Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.” The door slid shut, and I pulled pj’s from the drawers under my bed. He literally only took about five minutes before he was stepping out with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“I figured I’d change out here so you could shower.”
First my mouth went dry, then I think I started drooling.
The only thing I could think was holy rippling abs. The only thing that distracted my eyes as they followed the sculpted perfection of his body were written tattoos on either side of his ribcage. I wanted to know what they said, but I couldn’t make them out without staring.
It’s not that he was a big, burly, muscled kind of guy, but he was tall and fit. Definitely drool-worthy.
Blinking rapidly, I cleared my throat and spun to the bathroom. “I’ll be quick.”
Leaving the shower on the cool side, I tried to calm my nerves. All I did was freeze my ass off.
When my hand touched my mound as I washed, I gasped. It definitely didn’t help the state I was in. After that, I rushed through my shower and quickly dried off before tugging on my pj’s.
Of course, I was still damp, and they stuck to me as I tried to shove my legs in the pants. To someone watching, it may have been comical when I almost fell over. “Dammit!”
“You okay in there?” came from the other side of the door.
“Yeah! I’m good!” My answer was shouted too brightly.
Lordy, I sounded like an idiot.
My hand smacked my forehead before I wrapped the towel turban-style around my hair.
Collecting myself, I brushed my teeth and tried to control my breathing. Then I did a double-check in the mirror for visible nipples. What can I say? It’s a problem. Especially in the winter, and I wasn’t going to go walking out there to chill with my friend while the girls were at attention.
I walked out of the bathroom.
“Nice turban.” He snickered from where he lay stretched out on my bed, ankles crossed.
Shooting him a droll look, I fought coughing. Because looking at him like that was a mistake.
Seriously. I needed blinders or an eye mask. The white T-shirt he wore was stretched taut across his body and looked ridiculously good on him.
And for God sake, was he not wearing underwear with those sleeping pants?
His package was blatantly chilling a little to the left and too very, very visible. Shaking my head, I asked myself why the hell I was looking there.
Heaven help me. Did I really say he could platonically share my bed with me? Shit.
“Come on. We’re having a sleepover.” He patted the bed next to him. “Grab your brush and I’ll do your hair.”
An embarrassingly snorting laugh shot out of me at the thought of this big, boyishly handsome man doing my hair. “Yeah, right. You’d end up ripping half of it out.”
“I’m offended. I’ll have you know, not only did I used to do my mom’s hair when I was a kid, but I used to have long hair when I was in high school.”
I raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. “You never had long hair,” I accused.
“The hell I didn’t. Here. Let me show you.” Reaching to the nightstand, he grabbed his phone and began messing with it. As he’d stretched, I had to wipe a little bit of drool from my lower lip.
Trying to distract myself from staring at him, I returned to the bathroom and grabbed my hair oil and my brush. By the time I made it back to the side of the bed he appeared triumphant.
“There! Look!” I took his phone from him to get a closer look. As I studied it, I climbed on the bed and sat cross-legged next to him.
“Well, I’ll be damned. You did! Aww, weren’t you cute?”
With a grumpy harrumph, he snatched the phone back.
“I wasn’t cute. I was sexy as fuck.” His proclamation had me falling over laughing. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” He pounced on me and began tickling me.
“Stop! Oh my God! Stop! I’ll pee!” Chortling, I writhed and fought his tortuous hands.
“Take it back,” he demanded.
“You were cute!” I snort-laughed.
“Okay. You want to play, do you?” He straddled me and redoubled his efforts until I was squealing.
“Okay! Okay! Stop! My neighbors will make a noise complaint! And I might have peed a little!” Giggling, I pushed at his hands.
The last part had him jumping upright and s
tilling his hands. “Seriously?” His expression became one of worry.
Thinking I was being sneaky while he was preoccupied with misplaced shock, I shot my hands out to try to tickle the washboard abs in front of me. Except he was quicker and jerked to the side, causing me to get a handful of his penis.
He jumped back to his side of the bed, and I shot upright. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that! Oh shit!”
Wide-eyed, he sat pressed up against the wall. “Did you just molest me?”
“I’m so sorry, Logan. Oh my God, I want to crawl in a hole. I swear I didn’t mean to do that.” Embarrassment was swallowing me whole.
“You just grabbed my junk!” The shocked indignation on his face had me burying mine in my hands.
“I’m soooooo sorry!” Mortification was washing over me in tsunami-sized waves… until I heard a suspicious sound.
Tossing my head up, I watched as his stifled laugh became an all-out guffaw. Mouth hanging open, I didn’t know whether to beat his ass or laugh with him.
Howling, he rolled to his side, and I pounced. This time I straddled him and held his hands over his head as I sat on his hip.
Okay, he was probably letting me hold his hands up. But still.
“What are you going to do now?” He smirked.
“I should beat your ass. That was mean. You had me feeling awful!” Though I tried to be mad at his little trick, a smile was fighting to break free. He’d fucked with me, yet found a way to defuse an awkward situation.
“Well, how about you let me do something with that hair first, because it’s turning into a tangled mess. Unless you like being on top, and then I’ll just lie here.”
I scrambled off, my face blazing with heat.
“Oh for crying out loud. You’re so inappropriate.” A small snicker escaped me. Then I handed him my brush and oil. “Make yourself useful.”
“Useful, huh?” The devilish glint in his green eyes made me roll mine before I turned my back to him.
Feeling the bed move behind me, I had to hold my breath when his legs spread around me. Then he hooked an arm around my waist to pull me closer, and my stomach did backflips.
As his fingers worked the oil through my hair, I nearly dozed off. With each slow tug on the strands my eyes grew heavy.
“So why do you straighten your hair?”
“Hmm?”
Pause. “Are you sleeping on me?” The humor in his voice made me smile.
“Maybe dozing a little? Having my hair messed with is my weakness. You should see me when I go to the hairdresser. I fall asleep in the chair.” A guilty grin snuck up on me.
“You didn’t answer. Why do you straighten your hair?”
“Because I don’t like it. It used to be straight growing up and almost white blonde. This curly shit drives me crazy.”
“I think it looks good. I love it.” After he finished working the oil through, he divided my hair and began braiding it.
Feeling the braid when he’d finished, I was impressed with how even and tight it was. “I can’t believe you braided my hair.”
“Told you, I had long hair once. You saw it.” He flopped back and tucked his hands behind his head. “This is a nice place. Good location too. I was able to hop on the subway at the airport and get off right up the road.”
Lying down on my side facing him, I propped my head on my hand. “I still can’t believe you got on a plane and flew here to see me. Just like that.”
“I’d go around the world for a friend.” The tone of his voice was so matter-of-fact, it blew me away.
“That’s weird too. I mean, yeah we knew each other years ago, but it’s not like we were best buds or anything. Now here we are chilling together in my apartment—and you’re freaking famous. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?” Trying to figure him out, I narrowed my eyes.
“Not at all. Fuck, do you know how nice it is to have someone call themselves your friend without expecting something from you? Other than the guys, no one but you is like that. You’ve never asked me for anything except a magnet or a T-shirt from the places I go, and that’s after I prodded you a million times.” He’d been staring at my ceiling, but turned his head to look me in the eye. I could’ve sworn my heart jumped to my throat.
“It wouldn’t upset me if you didn’t get those things for me. The first time I was only kidding, but you took me seriously.” My finger traced the geometric patterns on my comforter.
“Stella, it makes me happy to get you those things. Hell, I could buy you an entire T-shirt store. You know that, right? Not that I’m trying to brag, I’m just saying the things you ask for won’t break me. Any other girl would have asked for jewelry, expensive purses or some shit.” The green in his eyes darkened.
“I don’t care about that stuff.” My nose wrinkled at the thought of having a bunch of stuff I didn’t need.
“I know, and I love that about you.” He sighed and returned his gaze to the mysteries of the ceiling.
“You look tired.”
“I’m not. Well, that’s a bit of a lie. I’m exhausted, but I’m not sleepy. However, I want to get up early and go to our coffee shop. Then I want to spend the morning with you before I have to go.” The soft tilt of his lips turned my insides to mush.
“Sounds perfect. And I’m exhausted too. It’s been a long week.” We both maneuvered to get the covers pulled back enough to crawl under.
Before I reached over to hit the light, I glanced in his direction. His eyes were already closed as he lay there with one arm thrown over his head.
He was so handsome, it hurt to look at him knowing he’d only ever be my friend, so I clicked the switch.
“Goodnight,” I whispered.
“Goodnight, beautiful,” he mumbled.
My heart shuddered.
Fuck my life.
“Nobody Praying For Me”—Seether
That night I slept like the dead. I don’t even remember falling asleep. There were no nightmares, no night sweats, no waking with insomnia in the middle of the night. Only blissful peace.
As I fought my way out of the webs of my surprisingly pleasant dreams, I realized two things. One, there was a warm, curvy body pressed to my front. Two, my arm was around it with my hand tucked between a pair of perfect tits—one of which was cupped in my fingers.
Slowly coming to, I yawned and stretched, pressing my morning wood into the rounded ass snuggled into me. “Mmm.”
I swear to fucking God, we both must have come fully awake at the same time, because my eyes shot open and we both froze.
“Your boob is pierced!” I also swear I didn’t mean for that to come out of my mouth. Evidently, I wasn’t as awake as I’d thought, because my filter was nonexistent.
“Your hand is holding my boob and your dick is in my ass crack!”
Like someone had jolted us with a cattle prod, we jumped up and apart.
Neither of us knew what to do or say. To a fly on the wall we would have looked like morons with our shocked, wide eyes and bed head.
“Stella, I didn’t mean anything by it. I fucking swear I was sleeping.” Choking down the baseball-sized lump in my throat, I worried I’d seriously fucked up. My worst fear was that I was about to lose the only real friend I had.
“I didn’t mean to cuddle into you, either. For real.” Her blue eyes were still wide and she seemed as worried as I was.
Trying to make light of the situation, I joked with her. “And this is why girls and boys can’t have sleepovers.”
Pulling her lips between her teeth, she looked like she was going to cry.
“Are you mad at me?” Shit, once again, I’d fucked up.
“Huh? No! I thought you were going to think I was trying to cross that line and get into your pants!” she blurted.
If only…. Whoa. Where did that come from? Uh-uh. Stella and I were friends. I refused to fuck it up and lose her.
“No way. Hell, I was worried you would think the same thing. Still fr
iends?” I held my breath as I waited for her to answer, my nerves shot.
“Of course. Friends.” Damn, why did that word make me want to cringe? Two seconds before, I’d been terrified I’d lost her as a friend. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Cool. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I unintentionally felt you up.” It was probably wrong, but I loved saying shit that made her face flame bright red.
“Oh my God, Logan. Stop. You’re so ridiculous!” Rolling her eyes in an attempt to cover up the embarrassing situation we’d barely escaped, she still chuckled. Grinning like a simpleton, I lay there as she crawled out of the bed.
“Is it okay if I get dressed in here while you’re in there?” I called after her as she entered the bathroom.
“Go for it. I’ll knock before I open the door.” She needn’t have bothered. It would only take me about three minutes to get dressed.
By the time she knocked, I was already putting on my Vans. “You’re good, babe.”
A pale pink Henley now encased the tits that had recently filled my hand. And I shit you not, I fought a blush at the thought.
Me.
A dude.
Blushing.
What the fuck?
Dark gold waves cascaded over her shoulders. “Are you ready to get that coffee?”
Nodding, I finished shoving my shit in my bag and pulled on my jacket and a beanie. “More than ready. Just need to brush my grill.”
Part of me realized going to see her probably wasn’t one of my brighter moves. Because as we walked out of her bedroom, I took one last look at where I’d had my first platonic boy/girl sleepover. A sad smile slipped out as I thought about how good it had been to wake up holding her.
It was the first time I’d ever had a friendship with a female. I wasn’t sure of the protocol or the rules, but I was pretty sure you shouldn’t want to undress your friends and pull them back into bed naked.
Then on top of that, I enjoyed being around her so much that I knew leaving her was going to suck. Except I wasn’t willing to do anything to ruin our relationship. And pulling her into my life would be a crash course in destruction.
If I could keep her separate from my life, I could shelter her from who I’d become. I could be someone different with her. Someone better.
No Treble Allowed: A Straight Wicked Novel Page 4