by Janna Watts
“Libby wants to do a thing tomorrow night. Please come. It’s stupid, but she’s excited about it. I think she’s sort of convinced herself it’s for you. You know, in the way Libby would.”
Honor lets out a strange bitter laugh. “Yeah. I know. So what is it?”
I shake my head and take off my glasses. Spare pair. The first ones were destroyed by the baseball bat. “She wants us to collect golf balls. To sell them. Apparently used golf balls sell well. Who the hell knows? She wants to be able to go out for a nice dinner. Before your audition or whatever…”
“Golf balls? In the winter? Is she serious?”
Before I can answer, Libby bounces up to us. “Pretty please, Honor. I promise you won’t regret it. It will be awesome, and we’ll go to the bistro and we can all order dessert and not feel bad about it. And it’ll be just the three of us. Please…”
With the second please, I know she’s got her. Honor can’t say no to Libby any easier than I can. And even though the cautious mask is still in place, I think we’re going to be okay.
Chapter Nineteen
Honor
Libby is a whirlwind and a little child all at once. I’m half-infuriated that I’m agreeing to this stupid golf ball scheme. At the same time I remember the fear but also the partial high of the bookstore, and I want to feel like the three of us are okay.
Sawyer let me be quiet last night and then let me rant as I paced, making all my craziness okay. But when I settled in next to him, I couldn’t sleep knowing Toby was probably stunned. I’m sure he had to deal with a crying Libby because as high as her ups are, she drops fast. It was maybe not fair for me to force him to deal with that, but Libby wasn’t fair to me either. It’s just that Toby got stuck with the bad end of the deal.
Libby’s arms come around me from the side. “See you later.”
Right, she has class and might actually go.
I want to not speak. To show her again that she crossed lines last night. My arms remain at my sides, and I don’t speak.
Libby’s body wriggles like a puppy, closing in for warmth. “I think you’re probably the best friend I ever had,” she whispers.
And it caves me enough that I plant a kiss on the top of her head, all resolve weakening away, and even though I said I’d join them before, now I actually mean it. “See you later.”
She pulls away like a spring of smiles and purple hair, wagging her brows. “I’m out!” she hollers, and the baristas give her a shout, making me wonder if Sawyer plays along when he’s at work.
I sit across from Toby as she disappears in a purple blur, and I trace the bottom edges of my empty cup.
“How was she last night?” I chew the inside of my lip, waiting for an answer.
“She was angry and then cried a little.”
I glance at Toby who’s staring at the table. “You know I felt almost bad leaving you in there with her.”
His clear eyes meet mine. “It was fine.”
“Do you…” I’m so worried he’s going to take this wrong, and maybe he should because maybe I don’t know how I mean it, and I don’t know how I feel about Toby outside of our threesome. I’m just not this close to people, but I’m close to them, and he’s a guy and I still don’t know what to do with that. How to categorize him.
“Do I what?”
“Do you like her?” I swallow hard as I consider the many ramifications of his answer, and I’m about to tell him not to say anything when he clears his throat.
“I have no idea.”
“I like you enough that it’s awkward for Sawyer,” I say it so fast the words kind of tumble over each other. “But I like Sawyer. A lot. I’m crap at this. I’ve just never had a guy that’s a friend, so I’m… I don’t even know what.”
He’s too still. So still that when he moves his leg, I swear it jolts the air between us.
“I’m moving out. I mean, if you’re back to watch Libby. I’ll be back across the hall.” He speaks in these short bursts, and humiliation washes through me because it’s his way of saying he doesn’t like me that way, which is good. Way better. But still doesn’t help me categorize who he is to me. Or maybe it does since having more than friendship obviously doesn’t feel right to either of us. At the same time, he still feels like something more than just friend.
“I’ll be back for the golf course outing apparently.” I stare out the window for a moment, letting the silence settle between us and become comfortable again.
“Libby said that you’re selling yourself short with the modeling thing.” His words are mumbled, like he doesn’t want to say this, but can’t help himself because if he said it, he probably thinks it too.
And that’s maybe the reason that I’ve held myself back to this point. I don’t want people judging for me for a choice of profession, or that I’m lucky enough for it to even be an option. “I’m still trying to decide if I’m going to do it or not.” I take in a deep breath. “I want people to know me. To like me for me. That’s why I don’t say anything about what I might want to do.”
“Anyone should like you for you.” His eyes hit mine, and then his cheeks are red, and he’s fiddling with the straps on his backpack.
“Taking off?” I ask.
Toby nods and then sighs. “It’ll all work out.”
Maybe.
Before I can answer, Toby gives me a small wave and darts out of the coffeehouse.
As I think about how he left, I’m hoping there’s no weirdness between Toby and me because Libby would pick up on it in a second.
Sawyer’s arms tighten around my stomach, pressing my back more firmly against his chest—classic spoon, and I’m melting into it. His lips trail up the side of my neck, and I giggle as he hits a ticklish spot under my ear, making him pause.
“I thought you invited me here for a quick nap because you know I didn’t sleep last night,” I tease.
“You can sleep,” he whispers. “I just don’t know if I want to stop touching you.”
“That’s romantic.” I roll my eyes, but I’m amazed that after I babbled for half the night last night, and then drooled on his pillow for the rest of it, that he still wants me around.
His hand slides up the front of my shirt and rests on my stomach, but the silence between us thickens, and the mood changes from teasing. I turn my head and take his lips with mine as he brushes his fingers over my stomach again, tracing a line at the top of my jeans, and then up to just under my bra, spreading goose bumps over my skin. I’m not nervous about where his hands are going to go next, because I suddenly want them everywhere. His fingers continue to trace over my stomach and my body continues to react, arching toward him, wanting him closer.
I roll over to face him, and we’re in this bubble of want and newness and perfection. Last night was about friendship with a few small kisses as he tried to help me drift off. This moment is going to be about how much we care about going slow before going all the way.
His hands smooth over my skin, reaching to my back and bringing us together. I press my forehead to his and lightly touch his lips with my tongue, which earns me the deepest kiss I’ve ever had. Sawyer’s hand slides across the back of my thigh bringing my leg over his side, and I’m thinking moving slowly like we said we should do last night is about to be tossed. I can’t stop kissing him, and it’s sloppy, but my brain is fuzzing out with how close we are.
Without thinking, I wrap my leg more tightly around him and pull him on top of me as I roll onto my back.
What am I doing?
“I’m sorry.” I’m not breathing right. “I’ve never… I mean, I’m never not in control, or feeling like I need…”
“But you’ve had sex before?” His breath hits my ear as he places kisses across my jawline.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t so intense…” that it took my self-control.
“It should have been. You should be dizzy with need before you have sex.” He’s breathless but manages to chuckle before he kisses me again.
> “Maybe blood doesn’t rush to that part of my anatomy like it does to yours,” I tease as I nip his lip again.
“Then someone wasn’t touching you right.” His breath and his words fly through me, and I lean in for another kiss, never wanting to come up for air.
His hand slides down my stomach and between my legs. Every touch rockets through me and I’m biting my lip to make sure I don’t whimper or do something equally embarrassing when a loud banging echoes through his apartment.
We both freeze, and now my heart’s pounding for a completely different reason. They wouldn’t come here… Would they?
He slides his hands around my back, and I arch up to make sure we stay pressed together really wishing we hadn’t just been interrupted. “Let’s ignore it,” I say.
“Agreed.” Sawyer smirks and covers my mouth with his, slowing sliding his hands lower on my waist and starting down over the top of my jeans again, making my body ache with anticipation. The banging echoes through his apartment again, and I know it’s Libby’s fist. No one else could knock with that kind of determination.
“It’s Libby. I’m sure.” I roll to my side and sigh. Does she have any idea what she’s doing? Sawyer leans back so I can stand, but I rest my arm across my eyes. I can’t look at him. I’m once again torn between wanting to continue what we’re doing and knowing it’s too soon for where we were just headed. But now I’m frustrated enough that I’m feeling a little bad for how Toby’s tortured once in a while over being friends with two girls.
I stay still for too long. Sawyer doesn’t speak, just stands up and steps across the room to jerk open the front door.
Libby stands with a huge grin and Toby’s behind her, hands stuffed in his pockets, and his knit hat pulled low on his head.
“We’re here for Honor, who promised she’d come home. Because we need to plan a few things. We have a date with golf carts.” Libby’s whole body moves as she speaks, her face light and bright, and even Toby’s smiling a little, which surprises me. I figured with his first trip off campus that he’d be freaking out.
“It’s freezing,” Sawyer says. He hasn’t invited them in, but his door’s open wide.
“You ready?” Libby asks me. “If Sawyer’ll let you go?”
I cringe at her pointed statement but Sawyer keeps silent, pressing his lips together in what I’m sure is annoyance.
Even though I promised I’d go with them and Sawyer knows this, I can see his face fall, and I know again that banging on the door of someone’s house and half-dragging their guest out is probably a little strange. I wish there was a way to make him understand Libby.
Sawyer gives me this odd look that I can’t read, and I don’t know whether to assure him about Toby or Libby, or if he wants an invite.
I know he can’t come because it would be horrible and awkward, and Libby would make sure it would be that way and then all of his concerns about how crazy she is, and about how Toby and I just follow her would be confirmed, and I don’t want…
I don’t want Sawyer angry and I don’t want Libby angry and I don’t want Toby to have to deal with a broken Libby if I don’t go, and it’s all too much to talk about or to explain.
“I need to go.” My eyes search Sawyer’s face for some understanding. “We can finish next time?”
He nods but backs a few steps away from the door, and I follow. Libby is miraculously silent, and all I can think is that Toby’s a miracle worker.
“I do not want to be the guy who doesn’t want you to go out with your friends, but I just don’t have a good feeling about this. I’m all for the next fun prank, but this could be really bad, Honor,” he whispers. “There’s nowhere you can rent a golf cart at this time of year. I just… I don’t want you in trouble. I don’t want for it to go wrong.”
“It won’t.” I shake my head. “Not for Libby.”
“Okay, then.” He kisses my forehead, and a million parts of me knows he’s still waiting for an invite that I can’t give. “Be safe.”
The second we’re in Toby’s old Honda, Libby starts in. “So, I’m not even going to give you a hard time about how you were practically waiting for permission back there, and—”
“Libby, cut it out.” Toby chuckles a little, maybe to seem less harsh, but I shoot him a smile of gratitude. “Anyway, tonight is just our planning night. Not the actual deed.”
“Keep your panties on!” She cackles as she turns up the volume on her music. “I made a playlist starting with American Pie because even if you don’t know the words, the chorus repeats so many times, we can all sing along!” This is Libby at her best. Smiling, and anticipating, and having a plan. I’m starting to relax into the craziness of her, and I’m glad to have another night to maybe talk her out of her scheme. I mean, I’m supposed to have balance so as much as I hated leaving Sawyer, it’s probably best because I’m not sure how much longer my clothes would have stayed on and really, I barely know him.
By the third chorus, there’s nothing left in her car but three friends screaming an old song at the top of our lungs, and I’m having so much fun that I’ve almost forgotten what we’re planning to do tomorrow night.
Chapter Twenty
Toby
Libby makes fondue in the room for dinner. She’s buzzing with so much energy, it’s hard to keep track of her. Talking a mile a minute about how epic the golf course run is going to be. Honor is nervous and checks her phone too many times, and I’m wondering why she doesn’t just bow out of this evening “planning” session and go back to Sawyer.
Her face when he opened the door glowed so much it almost took my breath away. Whatever she may feel about me, I don’t make her look like that. And I’m strangely okay with it because there’s always been a side of me that realized that Honor was out of my league. That she’s biding her time with us until she goes off to be great. Libby is the Falstaff to her Henry IV. And I’m apparently one of the unnamed sidekicks.
But when we’re in a room with Libby and she’s like this, it’s hard to see us any other way than what we are. Like the sheer force of Libby fuses us together, even though it’s obvious that Honor won’t be on this ship for much longer.
I pull Libby next to me and take the chopping knife out of her hands. She’s moving around too fast for this to be safe.
“You work on melting the chocolate,” I tell her and Honor flashes me a look of gratitude.
“So did you fuck him then?” Libby says, dropping chunks of chocolate into the electric fondue maker.
Honor blushes. “What? No. No.”
Libby laughs. “You didn’t? Oh my God, that’s so cute. Are you saving yourself for the wedding?”
“Libby…” Honor starts as her face falls, but Libby holds up a hand.
“Do not get involved with this guy without fucking him first. Seriously. What if he’s terrible in bed? You don’t want to have wasted all this energy on someone who isn’t going to deliver.” Libby’s eyes are darting all over the room, like she can’t focus on anything, and I start to wonder if she’s on something.
Honor looks down, but I see a small smile creep on her face as she says, “I’m pretty sure he can deliver.”
Libby jumps around and drops a piece of chocolate on the floor. She picks it up and pops it in her mouth like it isn’t a big deal. Honor registers shock for a second, but it doesn’t last. It’s Libby.
“So you didn’t fuck him, but you’ve been with him enough to see his boy parts and maybe have an orgasm? Outstanding. It’s been too long since I’ve had the big O. I mean, no offense, Toby, but you are seriously crimping my style on that front.”
I blink. “Oh. Did you have someone…?” My heart has left my chest and is now on the floor in front of me. Honor’s glow didn’t feel anything like this. And I’m not sure what to make of that, just that I hate the idea of Libby with someone else. Not that I actually can wrap my head around the idea of Libby with me either.
Libby giggles and climbs on top of me. She’s lite
rally straddling my lap as if she’s about to kiss me, but she’s also so wiggly that I know she isn’t. “Don’t look so crestfallen, T. I’m not talking about messing around with someone else. I’m talking about my pocket rocket.”
I shake my head. “Do I want to know?”
She bounces up and it’s like her legs weren’t just pressed around mine. Like she isn’t affected by touch at all. She digs through the giant box in the corner with the words “LIBBY’S STUFF” written on the side. Her head goes so far into the box that I feel like she could disappear.
“Jesus. It’s obviously been forever since I used this. I can’t even fucking find it,” she mumbles. “Aha!”
She emerges with a small vibrator in her hand. All the blood rushes to my face. This is so much worse than the thong.
“Behold the pocket rocket!”
Honor flies across the room and grabs it, tossing it back into the box. “Libby. What the hell? Seriously, do you have no sense of privacy at all?”
Libby grins. “Obviously I do. That’s why I haven’t been able to get off since Toby moved in with us. Now, if he’d agree to a little mutual masturbation session, I could probably get on board with that. I’ve never tried that before.” She waggles her eyebrows.
I’ve seriously dropped into The Twilight Zone. I am speechless. In the space of three minutes, my best friend has shown me her vibrator and suggested a mutual masturbation session.
Honor is shaking her head. “Libby. He’s from a small town. Seriously. You need to stop flustering him.”
Libby claps her hands. “Ha. You mean flustering you? You’re as red as he is. And honestly, you both need to get out of your comfort zones more. I mean, really.”
I finally find my voice. “I’m out of my comfort zone. I’m living with two girls. I’m going to college out of state.”