Rebellious: A Best Friends-To-Lovers Romance

by Kristy Marie

  Hesitating, I finally find the words. “Turn around and sit between my legs.”

  She turns around, giving me my first look at her perky ass I know she doesn’t do squats to achieve. Aspen is into yoga and running only. Occasionally she’ll fuck around in the weight room. But her body is mostly achieved by nothing but running out her constant energy.

  Slowly, she lowers into the water, her skin soft against mine as she leans back gently, the water pouring over the edge, once again. “You know, this mud doesn’t feel too awful.”

  Chuckling, I grab one of the tea bags and reach around to her chest. “Again, it’s not mud.”

  “I know, but you like it when I argue.”

  I nod, but she can’t see it. “True.” Gently, I press the tea bags to her reddened skin.

  “What are the tea bags for?”

  “Green tea has anti-inflammatory properties.”

  She laughs. “Did Aunt B teach you this?”

  “If you must know, yes.” I sigh. “Remember that time I fell asleep at the pool?”

  Aspen nods, a quiet chuckle vibrating her chest. “I do. That was after you acted so insane the night before and didn’t sleep.”

  “I acted insane?” I scoff. “I beg your pardon?” I can’t believe she’s turning that night around and acting like it was my fault. “You were the one who made me chase you.”

  Amusement clouds her voice. “I did not make you chase me.”

  I lean around so I can see her face when I say, “You got in the car with a stranger, Aspen.”

  She catches my gaze, her eyes narrowed. “Parker was the wide receiver on your high school team—far from a stranger.”

  “You knew nothing about him,” I argue. Parker might have been a teammate, but I trusted him with Aspen as much as I trusted Drew with a secret.

  She shrugs, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. “You told me I needed to date other people. Did you not?”

  My jaw clenches. “I didn’t mean right then. You misunderstood me.”

  She throws her head back, laughing. “Did I now?”

  “Yes,” I mumble. I’ll never admit I was wrong. Pushing her away was easier said than done.

  “Correct me if I get this wrong but you wrote, we must date other people, on my skin. It was a rule.” She turns around and pokes me in the chest. “A rule you created.”

  I dab the tea bag on a new patch of skin. “I was angry that night.”

  She laughs. “Oh, I remember.”

  I lost a playoff game. Our entire family was there, snapping pictures when I got sacked because I was too busy watching a guy talk to Aspen on the sidelines. I don’t remember who he was. All I know is I could still feel the heat of her breath tingling along my neck as she fed me stats on the other players at halftime. Coincidentally, those stats included the guy who tackled me.

  I was consumed with jealousy as I watched helplessly as this dude chatted with her, making her laugh, and distracting her from watching me. My feelings were insane. I knew that, but I couldn’t help the rage that overcame me and the rule that followed. I wanted her to feel the same way I did. So, at the end of the game, I didn’t go to her and pick her up, letting her piggyback on the way to the car.

  Instead, she followed me to the locker room. I can still remember her face, shocked and confused as I wrote the rule on the inside of her arm.

  “You want me to date?” She had asked.

  I nodded tightly. “We’re never going to be more than friends. You and I both know that.” My words had been clipped and hard. And Aspen, just like she’s always done, set out to teach me a lesson.

  “Okay,” she had said, her eyes focused on the black ink. “Friends. I can do that.”

  Then she turned, her eyes hurt, grabbing Parker by the arm. “Give me a ride home?”

  Of course he didn’t decline, and I spent the next thirty seconds staying calm. Okay, fine, I chased her and Parker to the car and snatched her out, dragging her into mine.

  “That was the first time you took back a rule,” Aspen says, bringing me back with a splash of water to my chest.

  “It was made in haste,” I concede.

  I remember standing outside my car, pouring my sports drink onto her arm and scrubbing as hard as I could. I never wanted to see that rule again.

  Aspen laughs. “So how did your irrational rule end up with you getting sunburned?”

  I shrug but she doesn’t see. “I fell asleep by the pool,” I tell her.

  She turns her head to the side. “Because you didn’t sleep that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because I didn’t come through your window?”

  I swallow. “Yes.” Her not crawling through my window was a punishment I couldn’t bear.

  “I was still mad,” she whispers.

  I nod. “I deserved it.” But that didn’t change the fact that, without her, I was miserable.

  This time, she turns her body around, sloshing water outside the tub. Her hands go to the water, bringing it to my chest. “You did what you thought you needed to.”

  I press a tea bag to her chest. It’s easier to see with her facing me. “I was wrong.”

  She nods, her eyes downcast. “It didn’t matter, though.”

  No, it didn’t because neither of us ever dated anyone. And it wasn’t because of a rule.

  Salmon kisses are not optional

  Bennett

  “I could eat a whole cow right now.”

  My brows arch.

  “Don’t look at me all judgy, BJ. Swimming makes people hungry.”

  I chuckle. “But you didn’t swim.”

  Aspen levels me with a look. “I exercised in other ways.”

  Tension coils deep in my gut as I think of her dropping to her knees in the bathroom as I came down her throat.

  “I say we grab something to eat.” She shuts the refrigerator. “And then maybe we can stop by the grocery store since, clearly, Fenn and Drew won’t be going.”

  She points to the sofa where Fenn is passed out. “You think we should wake them? They might wake up with a kink in their neck.”

  My gaze travels to the living room where my brother is sitting on the floor, his head folded over the coffee table, sound asleep. “Nah, let ‘em sleep.” And wake up with a kink.

  “I’ll get the keys.” She grins, brushing past me, snagging the keys off the table and slipping on the flip-flops she left at the door.

  “Hell no,” I bark. “You’re not leaving the house dressed like that.” I wave a hand up and down her body, clarifying that the sleep shorts and t-shirt is a no-go.

  She glances down at her clothes. “It’s shorts and a t-shirt. You think people will know they are pajamas?”

  This girl. “I think the fact they are short enough to be boy shorts is the actual issue.”

  Her brows furrow. “Fine. I won’t get out.”

  “That’s a fact if you insist on wearing those clothes.”

  She shrugs. “It’s midnight and I’m comfortable.”

  And gorgeous with her wet hair looking darker as it falls in waves against her shoulder, leaving a wet imprint on her shirt.

  “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me in pajamas?”

  I snort. “Not at all. That’s not what I meant.”

  This conversation is going nowhere. Aspen won’t change her clothes out of principle now.

  She cocks her head to the side, dangling the keys. “Well now that we got that out of the way, are you driving, or am I?”

  I eat up the space between us in a few long strides and pluck the keys from her fingers. “I gave in to the pajamas. Don’t push it.” I don’t even mention allowing her to drive the jet ski earlier.

  She knows she’s a crazy driver. Her road rage is worse than Fenn’s.

  “After you then.” She pulls open the door and reluctantly, I go first. The door closes behind us as we’re greeted with warm night air.

  “I’m thinking something crazy greasy,” she says, makin
g her way to the passenger seat.

  “If that’s what you want,” I tell her.

  She gets into the SUV and I follow, waiting for her to buckle up.

  “What are you going to eat?” she asks, clipping her belt into place.

  I shrug. “Most anywhere should have a salad.”

  Her face scrunches. “I forgot you had a beer earlier.”

  I did, and it was full of wheat, which is full of carbs. And when you’re a Type 1 diabetic, carbs are not your friend.

  “Get what you want, Asp,” I say, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway. “I’ll be fine with a salad.”

  Honestly, I’m used to it. Rarely do I get any type of craving for sweets or carbs, but Aspen does, and she feels guilty if she eats them in front of me.

  “But—”

  I turn on the music and drown out any argument she can come up with. “Think about it while we ride…” I flash her a wink. “In silence.”

  About fifteen minutes later, we cruise into town. Only a handful of fast-food restaurants are lit up at this hour. “Did you decide?” I ask her.

  She glances up from her phone. “None of them are that great for you.”

  I shake my head. “You’re not going into the grocery store in those shorts.” I know how her mind and guilt works.

  She chews on the inside of her lip. “Wait!”

  I groan as she tosses her phone down and reaches into the back seat, coming back with my gym bag. “Come on, Asp.” I groan. “I haven’t washed those yet.”

  She waves me off. “I’m not wearing the shorts.” Digging around, she finds a pair of sweats I keep just in case the weather is cooler. “You haven’t worn these, have you?”

  I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road when she shimmies low in the seat, and slips my sweats over her hips. “Okay,” she announces when she’s finished. “Now we can go to the grocery store.”

  “Aspen.” I sigh.

  “Bennett.”

  Why must she be so stubborn?

  She points to the only open store. “There.”

  I change lanes, intending to pull into the store. “We can eat fast food,” I negotiate. “You can get your greasy food. I promise, I’ll be fine.”

  She waves me off, already settled in her decision, which doesn’t come as a surprise. “Even the salads have a bunch of hidden carbs and sugar at those restaurants. We aren’t eating there.”

  My chest aches. Aspen loves her sugar and carbs, but when I was diagnosed and had to change my entire lifestyle, she was the one who threw out all the boxed meals and empty calories.

  I’m sure she sneaks and gets her fix of sugar, but I’ve always appreciated her support. Over time, I’ve learned to balance where I’ve been able to indulge, like today. I can have a couple of beers, but if I have more, I’ll need more insulin, and I try to limit that as much as possible.

  Turning into the parking lot, I pick a space closest to the door. The store isn’t busy but still. I’d prefer not to be too far away.

  “I’ve already started a list,” she tells me, holding up her phone for me to see.

  “Of course you have.” I groan. This won’t be a quick trip.

  “Let’s go before I starve to death.” She opens the door and hops out, immediately doubling over.

  “What’s wrong?” I rush around the front of the car and find the reason she’s hunched over.

  “Do you see this?” She wheezes.

  Deep breath, Bennett. You’re used to this insanity.

  I glance down at my sweatpants pooled at her ankles. “I see,” I tell her tersely.

  She’s still laughing, making no move to pull them up. “Literally, I got out, and they dropped to the ground.”

  My jaw goes tight. “Hence the reason you should have worn your own pants.”

  I knew this was a bad idea. Playful Aspen is always a bad idea. I sigh and rub at the tightness in the back of my neck. “Come on, Asp. Pull them up.”

  The laughing immediately stops, and she stands up straighter. “You do it.”

  Heaven help me, she’s going to kill me before the summer ends.

  “No, we did enough today.”

  She shrugs. “Fine, I’ll just take them off and wear my shorts.”

  “The hell you will.” I didn’t realize I’d taken a step forward, crowding her. Any other woman would have backed away, but not Aspen. She pushes her chest into mine. “Then you best pull them up for me, BJ.”

  Sometimes arguing with her is worth it. In times like these, with shorts that cut nearly to her hip bone, and no way of preventing her from going into the store, there’s no point. Arguing with her is futile. She knows she has me.

  “Fine.” I basically growl, squatting down and grasping the waist of the pants.

  “Don’t yank them,” she says. “My skin feels a little raw from the sun and sand.”

  She is full of shit. I know the game she’s playing right now and dammit, it’s working.

  “Fine,” I agree. If we were home, I’d draw this out and torture the fuck out of her. But here, in the grocery store parking lot, is not that time.

  Bunching the material in my fists, I lean in, my nose against her thigh. Slowly, I slide the material up, inhaling as I go.

  “Oh, sweet mercy,” she says, a soft moan stopping me.

  “We can’t do this here,” I tell her.

  Her hands tangle my hair. “You’re right. Let’s get back in the car.”

  I chuckle. “Do I always have to be the voice of reason?”

  She yanks my head back, her annoyed look lit only by the parking lot lights. “Do you always have to be the party pooper?”

  At her remark, I cinch the waist of the sweats and tie them as tightly as I can. “I’m not a party pooper,” I tell her, standing and turning around so my back is to her front. “I’m selfish.” I reach back for her hands.

  “You’re far from selfish,” she says, placing her hands in mine and not stopping to ask why. She’s always had complete trust in me.

  Bending down, I offer her my back. She’s done this plenty of times but never have I given her a piggyback ride to keep her pants up. She drops my hands and jumps, so I can reach around and hitch her up farther.

  “You want to know how selfish I am?” I ask, standing up straight. “I loathe even sharing your body with the light.”

  She hesitates and then her hands clasp around my chest while her head comes down to rest on my shoulder. “You’re jealous of light?” she whispers, the warmth of her breath tickling my ear.

  “Even of the fireflies.”

  Her breath hitches before I feel her lips press against my cheek and she rasps out, “Don’t say things like that.”

  I know what she’s talking about.

  “No hope, remember?”

  I nod. “I remember.” Even if I don’t want to. No matter what happens this summer, it won’t end well for us. We might have a fairy-tale kind of love, but our ending is one of tragedy.

  “Hold tight,” I tell her, clearing my throat. “I need to lock the doors.”

  Her head nods against my neck, but it lacks the enthusiasm it had seconds ago. I find the keys and lock the door quickly. “You ready?” I reach around and grab the backs of her legs.

  “I’m ready.” Her voice is shaky, and I’d do anything to get back carefree Aspen.

  I bounce her up and down like I would do one of Hayes’s girls. “You sure?”

  She laughs and tightens her hold across my chest. As soon as I’m sure she won’t fall, I take off running, her laughter a welcome distraction from her center bouncing up and down on my back.

  “Buggy,” she screams when I run past the rack.

  “Nope,” I tell her. “We’ll come back when you’re dressed more appropriately. Right now, we’re just getting what we need to keep you from withering away.”

  She smacks my shoulder, but it’s playful.

  “You think you can hold on to me and the groceries?” I tease.
>
  Her grip tightens. “I got us, BJ.”

  I shake my head at her calling me BJ. She only does it to get on my nerves. My brother used to tease me that my initials were the same as blow job, something I had no experience with until tonight.

  The sliding glass door opens, and the cool air hits us. “Where to, boss?” I give Aspen a little jostle. “What’s on that list of yours?”

  Honestly, I don’t care what we eat, but now that she’s feeling overly concerned with my carb intake, I’m going to go along with whatever she wants me to eat. It’s easier that way.

  “Romaine,” she says pointing to the produce department. “I’m going to make you a healthy salad.”

  “Mmm…” I tease. “A healthy salad sounds so much better than something greasy.”

  She smacks me. “I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work. I’m eating a salad with you, even if I’d rather have a greasy burger.”

  Stopping at the lettuce, I drop one hand and grab a bundle of romaine and toss it up over my head. She catches it easily and I feel her tuck it in between her chest and my back.

  “Next?”

  “Salmon.” She says it with a slight gag that makes me laugh.

  “You hate fish,” I argue.

  Her arms tighten around me. “But you love it.”

  I do, but… “We can get chicken.”

  “Salmon is better for you.” She hesitates. “It’ll also stink up the kitchen and fuck with Fenn’s hangover in the morning.”

  We both share a laugh, and it occurs to me that I will never again experience picking my dinner choices based on which one will make our brothers nauseated. Once we return to campus, I won’t give a shit what Fenn and Drew do, much less have the enthusiasm to fuck with them in the morning. My college days will be reduced to just making it through until I graduate.

  Or transfer.

  Which is an awful idea. I know it, my father knows it, and so does Aspen. I can lie all I want, but the fact is, I’ve never lived a day without knowing Aspen wasn’t within driving distance. The only time I’ve not lived next door to her was when she was a freshman in college, and I was a junior in high school.

  I made it a week before I started sneaking off in the middle of the night, driving to her townhouse and crawling into her bed. I told her I was worried about her living all alone in the city, but really, I couldn’t sleep without her. Eventually, half of her closet was full of my clothes and I was getting up at four am to sneak back into my house.