“To try to get over you!” I shouted, dropping my head to his shoulder. “He’s a distraction. I couldn’t think about you and…her together…tonight…on your second fucking date.”
“I’m not an arsehole, Skye. Stop treating me like one,” he said. “You know why I did it.”
“She asked for one date.”
“I’m doing this for you,” he replied. “All of this is for you.”
“One date,” I repeated.
He shook his head. “For you, Skye! You know I’d do anything, and you’ve always taken advantage of it.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Where shall we start? How about the whole porn thing?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Have I pointed a gun at your head? You can say ‘no’, Will.”
“You know I’d never say ‘no’!” he shouted, both hands on the wall behind me, above my head, caging me in. I could feel a vibration. A buzz. There was always something. It happened whenever he was near me. Like a fine mist swirling over fields in winter, shrouding everything, keeping it cloaked. The mist of lust stayed under my skin, dancing along my bones, keeping my infatuation moving and alive. Stirring me. Untangling me then tying the knots again. Just a look and it surged, reaching parts I was tired of suppressing. “I’d give you anything. Give you me.”
Oh, fuck. I was parchment paper. Petrol. Flammable. His smile lit the fuse; his words fanned the flames.
Will lifted me up, my back sliding up the wall as I hooked my legs around him. His sigh travelled through my body and into my soul.
“We’re both dying here.” He ran his mouth along my jaw and that’s all it took, I was ready to give myself, all of myself, damn the consequences. “We’re torturing each other.”
“Why now?” I asked, needing to know.
“Because I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, I was worried that if I started it, I wouldn’t be able to get enough of you.” Our hands were on each other’s faces now, fingers looped around ears, tugging at hair just to get as close as physically possible without diving under skin and bone. “We’re messy and complicated and anyone sane would run in the opposite direction. But me? Skye, I gravitate to you. I have this infatuation that never gets tired.”
“You annoy me,” I taunted, banter never far away, and a sexiness about me that I really fucking loved. “We tolerate each other, always have. In fact, I’d say we have a hatred.” His finger pressed against my bottom lip, stopping the words. His eyelids dropped. Closed. Briefly shut until he was with me again.
“We don’t hate each other. We have a mutual want,” he growled as his hand found my breast, moulding the shape, watching the flesh push up around his fingers. He’d pushed his shirt sleeves to his elbows revealing the arrow tattoo and I’d never found it sexier. The geek in the flannel shirts and Superhero T-shirts had the most awesome, hidden tattoos. “I’ll give you a challenge. Walk away from me now or let me kiss you.”
“Let you?” I laughed, pretending to be outraged but loving his claim of me.
His hand gripped my chin. “Look at me. Turning away means you’re hiding. Look.” The grip loosened and his hand trailed the contours of my neck “Don’t give me that hard stance bullshit, Skye. Let me kiss you or walk the fuck away.”
“Will,” I gasped, ready to hear the words, ready to accept this but still hearing the doubts. “We need to stop this. We’re here with other people.”
“Two dates. A brief fling,” he replied. “They’re insignificant against the history we have. The last I saw your date, he was checking out a drag queen dressed as Lady Gaga, and Margot, well…she isn’t fucking stupid, Skye!”
I pressed my head against the wall. Needed to feel something else, something other than this clouded lust that had been permeating for what felt like decades. I tried to focus on the pain of the clip fixing my hair in a tight spiral as it pressed into my scalp, but all I could feel was the bulge in his trousers pressed against my hip, his hand tracing my neck, and the need to fuck.
“How long have you wanted this? As long as me?”
“Longer,” I whispered breathlessly. “Longer than you. I guarantee it.”
“I wanted to fuck you the second we met.”
“Liar,” I panted.
“I don’t lie. I tell the truth plain and simple. I’ve imagined fucking you for what feels like a lifetime.”
“Why didn’t you?” I goaded.
“I have to answer that?” He laughed. “When we both know that friendship stood in the way.”
“A perfect cock block,” I said, tracing my fingers along the ridge of his erection.
“Damn our friendship,” he moaned against my neck.
“I don’t care if it ruins what we have. I need to feel. I need to unleash it.”
“Fuck, Skye. I need you.”
“Can we be friends after this?” I needed to know, needed to hear his answer.
“No,” he mumbled against my pulse. “We can be lovers.”
Fuck. Right answer.
“There’s no going back after this,” I gasped. “And I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up.”
“Not possible.” We rocked together in sync, clawing just to get closer. Years or pent-up lust locked away. Tonight, the doors had been opened. Caps undone. Inhibitions loosened. “I’ve wanted you for a lifetime. Watched you from a distance. Admired every part of you.”
I loved this side of him, the one kept hidden, the sheer gravity of what we had to lose that he’d pushed aside with ease. I felt his hands slide into my hair. They’d been there before when he helped me dye my hair lilac after losing Elliott and I wanted to escape my identity, my life. It was stupid to think the colour of my hair could change me.
Only Will did.
He pulled me from the despair of grief, carried me, held me. Loved me. I gasped as his hand reached places he’d never touched before. Parts of my body that were surely asleep before tonight. He was waking me up, surging me with heat and power.
“No one else touches you,” he panted.
“No,” I managed to get out.
I didn’t know where this would take us. I’d been hesitant and frightened to ruin what we had. Shackled by the terror that I’d fuck us up, but as I pressed my lips to his, I’d never felt so free.
He kissed. He devoured.
He knew what I needed and he took me there.
Pulled my hair before holding my hand.
Light and dark and every colour in between.
We were brand new, yet discovering.
Voices and whispers and branding.
His hands dug into my flesh, fingers roamed, and this kiss would sear itself against my mouth forever. Our lips meeting, merging, connecting.
I was falling, but he was holding me steady. Hands to my ass cheeks, yes, but something more.
He was finally stepping into my heart and settling there.
“What the F?”
Our heads both turned on the word, mouths still moulded together. An adorable, yet hot, nose smush.
“What’s going on?” Stacey continued, holding her hand to her forehead, her mouth open, shock opening her eyes wide. “He’s eating your face, Skye!”
“It’s not what you think,” I mumbled against Will’s mouth.
“How have I missed this?” she asked, ignoring the contradiction of my words against our body position, slammed against a wall by Will’s erection.
“Maybe because you’ve had a male escort permanently between your thighs,” Will replied, softly letting me down to the floor.
“Humour isn’t helping here, Will!” she replied. “Where are we on the fine line of friendship here? Kissed? Groped and fiddled?” She did some hand actions that had me twisting my face. “A bit of tongue action? Sex?”
“Sweetheart, I think you may have interrupted some fine line balancing,” Matt said from behind her shoulder as he tried to move her away.
“We’ve done nothing,” I said, w
iggling my corset back into place as Stacey covered her face.
“Oh, my life!” she cried, stifling a really big sob with her hand. “My best friends are…having it off!”
“No, Stace,” Will said, bumping his forehead against the wall. “But we were so fucking close!”
He smiled as I smacked his arm.
“This is complicated,” I said, walking towards Stacey who was still a blubbering mess. “We have a lot to work through.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She always was classy. “And a lot to discuss.”
“I’m made up,” she said, her voice cracking. “Really.” She pulled me in for a magical Stacey bear hug and I got lost in her arms.
“Can you leave us? Just for a minute,” I asked, as Stacey pushed me forward by my elbows.
“Shit! You were mid-snog,” she said, “I’m so sorry.”
“Come on,” Matt said, pulling her back by her waist. “Let’s get a drink and leave them to it.”
I folded my arms as I watched them walk away, knowing we were left alone again and wondering if the moment would click us back into place or propel us forward into unfamiliar territory.
“What do you need from me?” he whispered behind me.
“The truth,” I replied. “The truth of us and how long we’ve been dancing this dance?”
“The moment we met, Skye. I don’t bullshit. Not anymore.”
“I’m scared,” I replied. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
“I won’t let it happen.”
He pulled me against him, and my body sagged. This man had saved me in so many ways I’d lost count.
A tap on my shoulder broke us apart. “Sorry, guys,” Matt said as Will bit his fist at yet another interruption. “Stacey sent me because she didn’t want to witness any more shenanigans, but there’s also a problem. Margot’s asking for you.”
Will stabbed his hand through his hair. “Christ.”
“Go,” I said, able to think clearly now the cloud of lust had left me and the shackles of our friendship were creeping back in. This time, would they be tied twice? A double knot securing them?
“I’m not leaving you,” he replied. “Not fucking now. Not ever.”
“We need to sort this out,” I said. “Margot’s really into you. Earlier, she was talking about how meaty your calves are.”
“Hold on, this isn’t just my mess. Jesus was studying your arse!” he said. “I nearly tripped him up on his way to get a plant-based beer.”
Matt turned to me. “Actually, Karma left with a woman who had a forked tongue and scales tattooed under her eyes.” I stifled a smile. “He said to tell you it was good to catch up.”
“Good to know he hasn’t changed.”
“Skye!”
“What?”
“I need to go and let this woman down gently,” Will whisper-shouted. “Without losing the deal of letting you film at her studio.” Bombshell moment. I’d completely forgotten Will and I were risking more than our friendship.
I clapped my hand to my head. “Crap on a cracker.”
“Come on then,” he said. “What shall I say?” I paced the corridor, thinking, feeling, getting side-tracked by both. Will crouched to the floor, his back against the wall. “Skye?”
“Stop! I’m thinking.” I put my hands on my hips and faced the ceiling.
“What do you want?” he asked calmly. I bit my lip, confusion flooding. Regret testing me. Hypocrisy bleeding into my skin. I caught his gaze and wrapped my arms around myself. Christ, this wasn’t me. I had values and morals and I stood up and fought for them. I called him out for this second date bullshit, but now I was on the edge of asking him to arrange a third. What the fuck, Skye? “Tell me what to do.”
“I’m trying to come to that,” I shot back, annoyed with myself for even considering it. This was a colossal hole of shit and I was in danger of falling in headfirst. “Is there another way we could do this? Could we film it somewhere else?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Don’t we have a storyboard for this?”
“She’s offering equipment that we can’t get our hands on anywhere else,” I replied, ignoring his sarcasm, thinking out loud. “Professional equipment. Not just a handheld that will look like an amateur Pornhub clip.” I couldn’t let this be a cheap, smutty take on our big ideas, our focus, our plan. “Will–”
He nodded; further words unnecessary. He knew what I was fighting with. A legacy that came before everything else. “Right,” he said, eyes to the floor. Hurt and lost but still with an understanding so deep it was like we were irrevocably connected to it. “Is Margot still with Stace?”
“She was,” a voice said, Stacey’s arms wrapped around me. “Now she’s waiting for you by the bar.”
“Well,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and adjusting his glasses. “Guess I’ll have to take her home then.”
“What?” I said, the words stinging and singeing as they settled and broke. “No. You don’t have to take her home.”
“I’ve got to keep up the pretence,” he replied, lifting a shoulder like he didn’t care, but I knew he did, he was unable to catch my eyes. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“You can’t, not after–”
“What?” he asked, meeting my glare. “After what, Skye?” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Jesus, you really think I’m capable of taking another woman home and fucking her after what just happened between us?”
I tried to calm my chest, but it felt like my lungs were taking on their own life system. “I…I don’t know what to think.”
“Do you know me at all?” he asked, backing away, turning before quickening his pace as he disappeared back into the club.
A hand fell into mine and Stacey squeezed it, once, twice.
“Are you ready to talk?” she asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know where to start.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Which part?”
“Feelings,” she said, “that led to you…dry humping!” She held her hand out to the wall he’d pinned me against. How could something that caused me years of sleepless nights feel so right?
“I’ve questioned what I feel for a while.” She pushed my hair behind my ear.
“You’ve never done anything?”
“Flirting,” I replied, sighing. “It’s turned heavier over the last few weeks, particularly after I walked in on him masturbating on our sofa. His ass–” I pushed my fist to my mouth, “–glutes of steel.” She grimaced as I laughed.
“If you really like him, I think you should go for it,” she said. “You’re too cute not to be loved back and if his thrusting has anything to do with it, I’d say the feeling is definitely mutual.”
I twisted my lip between my fingers. “I’m pretty sure that’s changed now.”
“I was trying to piece it together,” she said, backing to the wall. “Margot’s offered you some help. Some equipment to do with the film?”
“Her studio and the facilities. Cameras, lighting, sets.”
“What does Will have to do with that?”
“She wanted a date in exchange.”
“Christ, she’s using him as a bargaining tool.” She laughed. “I’m seeing Will in a whole different light tonight.”
I sat on the floor and pulled her down to me. “There’s so much history. He was my lifeline after Elliott, Stace. The one who reminded me to keep my heart beating. The one who told me to take in air. What if we sleep together and fuck up all of that history? Who do I rely on then?”
“Hello?” She smiled, pointing to herself.
“You know you got me upright and somewhat normal again.”
“Somewhat?” she said. “Cheers for that.”
“But Stacey, as much as I love you, there will never be any fear that I’ll fuck up our friendship through sexytimes.”
“Never say never.”
“I’m sure you have a lovely vagina–”
; “I do. Thank you.” I knew she was laughing underneath her neutral face.
“But I like cock and Will’s happens to be a fine specimen.” She made a gagging motion. “And that fine cock is attached to him.” She sat forward as I teared up. “And I really think or…really feel…”
“What?”
“That I’ve always fucking loved him.” She held me as I lost my mind. “Damn that man and those glasses and that arrow tattoo on his arm that is hot as fuck!”
“And the glutes. Don’t forget the glutes.”
We held hands, Stacey smiled, and Matt tried to be inconspicuous in the background. It didn’t work, but he was becoming as much a part of our inner circle as Will now. And it felt amazing to talk to Stace about my feelings, to get out my concerns and try to order them into what we could deal with first.
“Do you think he’ll sleep with her?”
“Skye, he’ll take her home like the gent he is and then he’ll probably head back to our flat for crisis talks.”
“Right,” I sighed, wishing the jealous part of me I hated hadn’t asked the question. “We better go and get another drink then.”
16
Will
I took Margot home, ensuring she was safe and assuring her that I’d be in touch. To her credit, she told me not to worry, said she thought I was too reserved for her and as I left her propping her front door open with her angled hip and crossed arms, she shouted after me, asking if I’d realised that I was deeply in love with Skye. I smiled and said I’d never been surer about anything in my life.
I thought about going back to Brighton, I could have done it in ninety minutes, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face Skye again, not until I’d sorted through the pockets of detail from the night, trying to make sense of them before they all blurred together again.
Instead, I went back to my flat and distracted myself by talking bullshit with Gavin, who was still awake and preparing for the senior journalist interview. He’d been working on some photographs, pulling together a portfolio to share during the process. Tension formed across my shoulders and anxiety settled into my stomach. I’d had the call inviting me for an interview but hadn’t even started preparing for it. Bigger distractions were on my mind, but I joined him for the night, setting up my laptop and sharing boxed noodles, talking about the awkwardness of going for the same position until I woke in the morning, finding myself still on the sofa, a chopstick resting on my chest.
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