Always been You

by Mia Scott

  Condescending or not, he didn't care. He liked Alisha. (Shut up!) She was a cool ass chick that was smoking hot, made him laugh (though sometimes not on purpose…she had a total nerdy side that he found hilarious), and, because it needed to be said again, fucking phenomenal in bed. He no longer hedged when he wondered if she was the best lay he'd ever had. It was proven fact at this point.

  And she was musical. Practically at every moment. When they talked, they talked about music more often than not. Sometimes she would break out into song, to demonstrate a point, which at first he found kind of strange, but because he loved the sound of her voice, (her pipes were killer) he quickly became a fan of her proving her point. Even when she was in the midst of hitting her peak, her sounds were melodic. It was a little odd, yet sexy as hell, and he was quickly learning which places on her body elicited sounds from her when touched or kissed.

  She also tolerated the crap (read: awesome Big-isms) that spewed from his mouth. Like last night she was laughing at him because he answered a question wrong on Jeopardy (Again, shut up!) about literature (Seriously, who gives a fuck? Alisha Larrington, evidently.), and he thought she was going to piss her pants because she just would not stop laughing at him. He'd gotten annoyed and told her Larrington, if you don't stop laughing at me, I'm gonna put my dick in your mouth and make you gargle my babies. He'd used that line before, to disastrous results. Every girl he'd ever said that to became super offended, (like, how dare he suggest they blow him when just the day before they couldn't stop blowing him…whatever) usually called him an asshole and stormed away. So the moment those words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He wasn't ready to see the likes of Larrington's sexual skills bounce out of his life yet. But you know what she did? Well, first she laughed some more (for real, she nearly peed her pants), called him a boorish jackass, and then she did it. Like, the world's best blow job did it. (Daily Double that, Alex Trebek.) Her mouth was insane, and he thought that she could probably suck a golf ball through a garden hose. So yeah, he liked Alisha Larrington. Very much.

  A middle-aged nurse that looked like she'd had her fair share of hard livin' came out and called his name, shaking him from his thoughts. He tossed the magazine back onto the end table, gave the snot factory next to him a scathing look and went to get the tests over with.

  After rehearsals, Alisha headed back to her apartment to grab a nap and a shower before she had to be back for that night's show. Sleep hadn't been high on her list of priorities since things with Big started. Not that she was complaining, but she definitely needed to catch up.

  Things with him were…really good and, ever since the night of Thanksgiving, surprisingly uncomplicated. They didn't discuss what they were because there really was no need to do so. They were sleeping with each other and no one else and they enjoyed hanging out. That was enough for her, for them. Still, though, they kept it a secret from their friends. She kind of liked that they had this secret that was only theirs to share. Her life was usually so routine and his presence, their activities, made it anything but.

  It surprised her that she liked his company as much as she did. Obviously the terrific sex with an incredibly gorgeous firefighter was a no brainer. However, nearly everything else about him was the antithesis of what she was normally attracted to. He was rude, territorial, supremely foul-mouthed, and while she suspected that he wasn't nearly as dumb as he liked to pretend, he wasn't what she'd call an intellectual. He made her laugh though, and when she felt his lips press against hers, or his hands glide over her body, all of those other things faded away and she just lost herself in the moments they spent tangled together.

  Big was also a very talented musician and that really turned her on. They could talk about music for hours…not that they had talked for hours because they usually got distracted, but they could if they wanted to. Probably. She also loved hearing him sing and play the guitar. Fire Extinguishers played a gig the other night and she'd gone with Maggie to watch. That had been the toughest test yet in keeping their whatever a secret because the moment he sang I'm on Fire, she wanted to jump on stage and rip his clothes off.

  Smiling, she scrolled through her iPod until Springsteen came up and decided to listen to him for the rest of the walk to her apartment. She was nearly home, and The Boss was singing about how this town rips the bones from your back when she felt someone grab her. She opened her mouth and screamed when Big turned her around and laughed, saying something she couldn't discern due to the music blaring in her ears. Yanking the ear buds free as her heart pounded in her throat, she glared at him and started slapping at everything she could get her hands on. "Big! Dammit, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" she scolded.

  He chuckled, ducking a slap aimed for his face. "Sorry, Larrington," he said with a devious smile. "I called your name—didn't realize you had your iPod on."

  "Somehow I don't believe that," she told him, pressing a hand to her chest, willing her heart to stop pounding a million miles a minute. "Jesus! What are you doing here?"

  He stepped forward and wrapped his hands around her hips. "Thought I'd see if you wanted to kill some time with me this afternoon before your show."

  She groaned, removed his hands and took a step back. "I would, but I'm exhausted. All I want to do is take a nap."

  Big smirked. "A nap sounds awesome. Can I join you?"

  Alisha smiled, but shook her head. "Call me crazy, but for some reason I don't think we'd get much sleep."

  "Aw, come on, Larrington, we can just take a nap together. I'll keep my hands to myself. Scouts' honor," he told her impishly, holding up three fingers.

  Her lips twitched. "Oh, you're no boy scout," she laughed dryly and rolled her eyes, not believing him for one second. Heading for her steps, she turned and motioned for him to follow. "I'm too tired to argue. Come on, then."

  He grinned wickedly and followed her up to her apartment.

  Big kicked off his shoes and stripped off his sweatshirt before flopping down on her bed and rolling to his side. He watched her unzip the pink hoodie to reveal a matching pink sports bra underneath. Her ass looked damn good in the tight black yoga pants she was wearing when she walked over to the window and opened it.

  "Christ, Larrington, it's 10 degrees outside, do you need the damn window open?" he asked, feeling the instant chill in the room.

  She cast a baleful eye in his direction and walked over and turned on the fan, a sassy smile on her lips. "My room, my nap—deal with it," she said lightheartedly, knocking the excess pillows to the floor and pulling back the covers. She pragmatically set both her cell phone and alarm clock to go off in two hours and forty-five minutes and climbed Beneath the thick duvet. Noticing his eyes on her, she smiled self-consciously and pulled the elastic ponytail holder out of her hair, combing her fingers quickly through it. "What?" she asked, laying back and shifting to her side so they were face to face.

  God, she was fucking adorable. (And sexy.) "Nothing," he smirked, pulling the duvet up over his body and shifted a pillow Beneath his head. "Fuck, it is cold in here," he shivered.

  "If this is your attempt to get me to share body heat with you, it won't work, Big," she smiled softly. "I'm going to take a nap."

  "You're mean," he pouted.

  "Aw, you poor thing." Alisha snuggled a little closer and pressed her lips warmly to his, pulling back before he could deepen it and declare her nap over before it even began. His eyes were a soft green today, twinkling mischievously as they watched her intently. She shivered, but had no clue if it was from the air or the man. He shifted and peeled off his t-shirt and she eyed him warily. "Jake—" she warned quietly.

  "Shh…just chill, baby. Let's spoon," he suggested roguishly. When she snorted and rolled her eyes he kissed her fully on the mouth. "I'm serious," he murmured against her lips. "I could use a nap, too, but since you like it to feel like Siberia in here, you're gonna let me mack on some of that body heat. I'll behave, I promise," he reiterated again.

  Alisha t
urned over to her other side and readjusted the pillow, feeling his thick, muscled arm come around her waist. She snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth from his bare chest pressed against her back. As her eyes fell closed and his fingers ran through her hair in a soothing rhythm, she decided that this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

  Her nap lasted all of an hour. It wasn't his fault. Well, it kind of was, but he had held up his end of the bargain and hadn't tried anything. She woke up, all warm and close, with her head snuggled against his chest and their legs and arms tangled around each other. The look on his face was almost angelic as he slept, with his long, thick eyelashes flirting with the tops of his cheeks and his full lips parted slightly. He was so gorgeous that it made her breath catch and stoked the fire that was seemingly always lit for him.

  Reaching out her fingertips, she ghosted them along the hard angles on his face and over the outline of his lips. He groaned softly and shifted closer to her, his hand running over her hip and around to settle on her backside. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes remained closed and he smirked.

  Alisha let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Look who's talking—your hand is on my ass."

  "Well, you've got a hot ass, baby," he said deeply, pressing her closer. His eyes slowly blinked open and met sleepy brown ones. She looked worn out. He smoothed a hand up her back to rest on warm skin and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. "Go back to sleep, Lisha."

  She started to protest that she wasn't tired, but the yawn she couldn't stifle gave her away. "Okay," she whispered, her eyes falling shut.

  Big watched her for a few minutes, until her breathing slowed and evened out and she slipped into a peaceful slumber. He'd never just taken a nap with a girl before. It was strangely intimate and just…comfortable. Then his stomach did a strange little somersault and he closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep, doing his level best to ignore, ignore, ignore whatever the hell that foreign feeling was.

  The next time he woke, she was leaning over him with her lips nipping at his earlobe. "Hey," she purred, skating kisses towards his mouth. "I have to get up and get in the shower."

  Groaning, he surfaced from sleep and mumbled a groggy okay.

  Alisha smiled against his mouth. "Do you want to join me?" she asked temptingly. She watched his eyes open fully and take on a wicked gleam. She knew that would get him.

  Grinning like the Cheshire cat, he pushed himself up and kissed her. "Hell yes," he said enthusiastically, kicking off the duvet and scrambling out of bed. Seeing her with a winning smirk on her lips made him laugh and toss her over his shoulder.

  "Jake," she giggled. "I'm perfectly capable of walking."

  He slapped her ass. "Shut up, Larrington. You totally dig it when I do this. It gets you hot because I'm so masculine and shit. I've seen the way you ogle my body like I'm a piece of meat."

  Alisha opened her mouth to protest and realized that she would be lying. "What can I say? You're definitely Grade A, Biggerman," she told him in a flirty tone, making him chuckle as he carried her into the bathroom and kicked the door closed behind them.

  That night, Big strolled into the bar and spotted James, Mike and Matt already at a table in the back. "Sup, assholes?" he greeted, sliding into the booth next to Matt, and bumped fists with Chang. He reached for an empty glass on the table and poured a glass from the pitcher.

  "Dude, where have you been hiding?" Mike asked.

  Big cast a bored look in his direction. "What are you talking about?"

  Mike shared a look with Matt, who just shrugged silently. "You're like, never around anymore."

  Rolling his eyes, he swigged his beer. "I'm fuckin' here now, Chang. You been missing ol' Biggerone have you?" he asked with a chuckle.

  "Not really, you big douche. We're just sort of used to you always being around is all," Mike retorted with a crooked grin.

  "Why don't you bust James's balls for a while? He's the one with the girlfriend."

  "Been there, done that," James chimed in. "They just got done when you walked in. But, now that they mention it, you have been MIA lately." He grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it into his mouth. "What gives?"

  "Wasn't aware I was coming to a yenta convention tonight. Fuck, man." The non-Jews at the table all exchanged a look of confusion and Big snorted into his glass. These were his bros, but they really were idiots sometimes. "Forget it," he muttered.

  "Daaaamn," Matt called, in a rare outburst, when a group of attractive women walked into the bar. "Look at that one in the purple. That is one fine mocha-skinned honey. Dibs!"

  "Rutherford just jizzed in his pants," Big laughed, leaning casually back against the booth.

  "Get Bent," Matt grumbled.

  Mike craned his head to get a better look at the women. "Hot, but too high maintenance. The Changster knows," he offered sagely, tapping a finger to his head.

  "You're retarded, Chang," Big said companionably. "I'll go get us another pitcher."

  Once Big walked away, Mike grinned. "Okay, let's place bets on how long it takes Big to pick up one to take home." He pulled out his wallet and slapped a ten on the table. "I'm going with the tall blonde and," with a glance at his watch, "12:30."

  "No, no," Matt shook his head, digging out a ten spot of his own. "The redhead at 11:30."

  James hesitated before pulling out two fives. "The brunette in the red and I'll give him until 11:45."

  "God, this game is so fun. Been a while since we've played, eh?" Mike asked.

  "Yes, it has been," James agreed, trying to remember the last time he'd seen his best friend hitting on a woman.

  "Rutherford, just go over and talk to your African Queen already if you're gonna drool all over the damn table. God Almighty," Mike snapped, kicking his friend under the table.

  "I will later," Matt said, kicking him back.

  "Pussy," Mike coughed into his fist. "Oh, excuse me. Terrible cough I'm developing."

  Big returned a few minutes later with two pitchers in his hands and slid back into the booth. "Wanna shoot some pool?"

  The other three exchanged looks of confusion. "Wh-what are you doing?" Mike asked, totally incredulous.

  "The fuck does it look like I'm doing? Drinking beer with you faggots. How many times have I told you it's essential for you to wear the protective gear at work, Chang?"

  "How come you're not trying to pick up a chick to take home?" Matt asked, perplexed.

  He shrugged and looked around. "Nothing that piques my interest," he drawled, bored.

  "Oooh—did you get uh, a little something from someone?" Mike asked in a stage whisper, pointing to his pants.

  Big glared and flipped him off. "I'll pretend you didn't just ask me that, asshole. My business is clean, thankyouverymuch."

  Mike held up his hands. "Hey, you can't blame me for asking. I don't think anyone would be surprised. You do rake in a ton of pussy. 'S all I'm sayin'. Alright, Matt is gonna stroke out if he doesn't get to talk to that girl over there. C'mon, buddy, I'll be your wingman." He stood up and picked up his beer and grabbed Matt by the collar, dragging him out of the booth.

  James looked up and saw another firefighter from their station. "Tony!" he called loudly.

  "Whattup, bitches?" he greeted. "Tickets for you, Biggerone."

  Big looked in the envelope and nodded his approval before pulling out his wallet and slapping some bills into the other man's hand. "Thanks," he grunted. "Appreciate it."

  "No sweat. Sorry, can't stay. Got my lady waitin'. See you fucksticks later." With a little salute he walked away.

  James snatched the envelope off the table before Big could put it in his pocket and pulled out the tickets for inspection. "Well, well, what do we have here?" James asked, shooting Big a curious look. He waved the tickets in front of his best friend's face. "Tickets to the Jets/Colts game."

  Big shrugged and sipped his beer. "So?"

  "You hate the Jets."

&
nbsp; Big scowled. "Can I have my tickets back, asshole?"

  "Hmm," James hummed exaggeratedly, tapping a finger to his lips. "Who do we know that likes the Jets? Oh, wait, no—not the Jets, the COLTS! That's funny; I seem to recall that Alisha is a huge Colts fan. These tickets wouldn't be for her, now would they, Big?"

  "Dude—nunya! Seriously."

  James smirked. "Oh, my God! They are for her. When the hell did that happen?"

  "Keller, let it go," he said, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing going on with me and Larrington," he lied, running a hand over the back of his head.

  "Bullshit, dude."

  Big narrowed his eyes and James lifted a brow. "Fine. These tickets are for her. We're friends and we hang out sometimes and that is all you're getting from me. Drop it."

  James opened his mouth to say something else and Big cut him off.

  "I'm also enacting the Bro Code of Silence. So you can't tell your girlfriend or anyone else about this. And I fucking mean that."

  James studied his dark-haired friend for moment before shaking his head and taking a long pull from his beer. "Guess none of us are winning the bet tonight," he said smirking. "Mike and Matt will be so disappointed."