by Alex Rosa
“We’d have to be a secret. We’ve already made it clear that my brother can never know about it.”
“He’s boinking one of your best friends. Isn’t he breaking some sort of code, too?”
I giggle. “Did you just say ‘boinking’?”
He laughs. “Yeah, I did. Your brother is a hypocrite.”
I clench my jaw, and his eyes widen.
I jab him in his chest as playfully as possible. “Be that as it may, he is allowing me to live here, and the only rule he gave me was not getting involved with you. He has every right to kick me out if he wants to because of this.”
Blake turns away, with what I would assume is at least a sliver of guilt over the situation, but in pure Blake style, he is quick to be selfish.
“Fine. So we keep it a secret, of course.”
My smile is back. “Yes.”
Why does this conversation feel so wrong, but so wonderful? I can’t wrap my head around the mixture of feelings. The rational part of me is buried somewhere deep inside, and I think it’s trying to ask: How long will this carry on before your brother finds out? I silence any such doubt, deciding to deal with it at a different time.
With the scary ability to read my mind, Blake says, “We shouldn’t have to talk to anyone about this. If it’s between us, we can keep it honest and tell each other how we feel as time goes on. We can’t get caught up in our emotions; you have to know that.”
It feels like he’s scolding me, but I know it’s my juvenile reaction.
“Obviously. I’m not going to get attached if you aren’t. We have to make it clear to each other that this isn’t going anywhere.” I know my tone is more goading than it should be. This isn’t a dare; this is the truth.
Blake looks tempted to roll his eyes. “If one of us starts to get too attached, we have to speak up. Got it?”
This conversation takes a serious turn, but we both nod our agreement, and I consider shaking his hand to seal the deal.
One more thing begs to be discussed since we’ve agreed to keep this purely physical.
“I’m assuming we can see other people, then?”
“Of course.” He says it almost too quickly, and it has my stomach knotting.
“Perfect,” I hum, unsure even now how I will handle those situations when they arise.
So that’s it then, we’ve said it all, haven’t we? I think, and I know I don’t need to repeat the details again.
Finding my bearings, I turn to him, getting a bit closer, and grin.
It seems he has difficulty covering up his bashful smile in reaction to mine. “Why are you smiling now?”
“Rules stated. We can’t go wrong now. You know what that means.”
“More sex?” he quips. I laugh, while shaking my head.
“No, I mean now you have to talk about yourself. We’ve got the basics, but for this to work on my end, I have to feel like I know you. Fucking a stranger is not something I want.”
He raises a mocking brow. “But fucking a friend is okay?”
I want to argue the point because this is one of those things that doesn’t make sense to him.
“Humor me, Blake.”
His eyes dart over my features, and surprising me, his hand comes up to my face to brush a thick strand of black hair away.
“Where do I start?”
I lean against the pillow, as if I’m snuggling up for story time. I look at his handsome face, admiring his long, thick lashes, which I’ve never noticed before.
“Tell me about work. I want to know what you do.”
He huffs, wrinkling his nose at the mention.
“Don’t you like working?” I ask.
As he brushes his fingers back and forth over my naked shoulder, I think it’s more a distraction for him than anything. I allow his caress as he begins to talk about himself.
“I do. I’d prefer acting, but modeling seems to be taking over. I finished that cologne ad recently, and I just scored a Prada spread for a magazine.”
His eyes have yet to swing back to mine, and I find his unexpected embarrassment endearing.
“Sounds like you’re doing well.” My tone is soft and cajoling, trying to be interested and supportive.
He thrums his fingers against my skin, eliciting a tingling sensation. However, I remain as still as possible, liking that he finds some sense of comfort in touching me.
“I am, and I’m incredibly grateful. I’m trying to score this big acting audition for an upcoming epic by the director Christopher Nolan. My portfolio and headshot made it through the first round, but only time will tell.”
I grin. “That sounds amazing, Blake.”
He wrinkles his nose again, his thrumming fingers picking up pace against my skin. “Eh, it’s not a big deal yet. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I guess I must confess that it’s what I really want.”
Without a second thought, I reply, “I have faith in you.”
His blazing eyes come back to mine. “You do?” I can tell he finds some sense of pleasure at hearing my support.
I shrug. “Sure. If you can somehow convince me to get into the mess I’m now in with you, then I am sure you can do anything you set your mind to.”
I’m rewarded with a wide grin. I can’t help myself; the sight makes me sit up and crash my lips to his, enjoying his mouth’s frantic game of catch-up against mine. As his tongue dips into my mouth, savoring the shocking moment, his growl of pleasure is enough to have my body already reacting to his. My back arches, causing our naked torsos to make slick contact. His hands trail over the contours of my body under the sheet.
Although discussing our contracted tryst and then acting on it seems like a brilliant idea, I have to maintain some sort of grasp on reality. When his lips lift from mine to begin a tantalizing trail down the nape of my neck, I speak amid my groan. “Blake, what time is it?”
With a brief glance at some form of time reference in his room, he says, “Eleven.”
His warm mouth is distracting, and even though I know he’s trying to initiate another round, I push him away. He looks up from my chest through hooded eyes, and I shrug.
“I have to jump in the shower and get ready for work.”
His grunt of displeasure has me laughing as he drags his nose back up my neck, placing an enticing kiss behind my ear. My arms find their now familiar place around his toned back.
“I could join you in the shower.” His words, matched with his sprite, adorable mood, are torturous to say no to.
Trying to keep myself grounded, I shut my eyes, forcing the vision of him out of sight.
“Nope.”
He pulls away. “No?”
He positions himself over me in an attempt to convince me otherwise, and I’m grinning like a stupid girl as my eyes fly open.
“Yeah, I said no. No shower.”
Like a child, he asks, “Why?”
I have to hold back the need to kiss his wonderful mouth, so I place my hands on each of his shoulders, preventing another onslaught of tempting kisses.
“We have to keep some sense of boundaries, right? Well, for me, showers are for boyfriends, and you, my friend, are far from that.”
He chuckles, tilting his head to the side. “Showers are for boyfriends?”
“Yeah, showers are for boyfriends. Let me have this. Showers are intimate, and though we’re having sex, you don’t get to have me like that. Is that fair?”
He purses his lips, and though I think he wants to form a rebuttal, he doesn’t as he nods his agreement.
“Now can I get ready for work and shower by myself?”
I put my face closer to his, tempting him. I find extreme pleasure in the fact that he can’t reject my close proximity as he presses his lips to mine. It’s a quick, hard, possessive kiss, but it’s enough.
He pulls away. “As you wish.”
Knowing I need to escape before it’s too late, I climb out of his bed, realizing that trying to find my clothes would be fu
tile. Walking to the shower beyond this wall—naked—might be my only option. The thought irks me, and I refuse the option as I spot one of Blake’s dirty shirts on the floor.
Though I don’t know where it’s been, I’d rather not walk openly naked. I grab for it, pulling it over me.
I don’t have to be looking at Blake to know that he seems to find great joy in not only touching me, but also staring at me. Therefore, when I hear him speak, I’m already smiling.
“Will I see you tonight, then?”
His question has a double meaning, and I turn around to see him lying in bed, hands behind his head—calm, cool, collected, and sexy.
I shrug. “I’m studying with Rich after work, so I won’t be home until around ten.”
His sexy smirk vanishes into one of strained indifference, and I chew my cheek as I watch him.
“You’re seeing Rich tonight?” he asks.
I pull on the edge of his shirt, finding that even his dirty clothes smell wonderful.
I reply innocently, because there should be nothing wrong with my words, “Yeah, to study. Is that okay?”
He regains his cool, and an almost bipolar sort of shift occurs. “Of course.”
I eye him for a second, but think this might be a good crash course to the situation we’ve gotten ourselves into. It would do us both some good to get used to this, but the hanging silence becomes more uncomfortable than I anticipated.
“I’m gonna go shower, but I might see you later, yeah?”
I notice his eyes drag over my body, lingering on some parts more than others, as if committing the image of me to memory, and his smile is there again. “Sure.”
I want to ask what it all means, that smile, but I make my way out, seeking a steaming hot shower. My body still aches for his with each step I take, even if I am just down the hall.
Chapter 21
Tucker called in sick from work today. I shake my head; though I think myself lucky that Tucker isn’t here to berate me with how my evening ended up, I don’t think he’d let it slide if I called in sick because of a hangover.
The last thing I remember is him passing out on the couch before my crying. I wonder at what point he made it home. I release an audible sigh. I’m a horrible friend for not checking in. I should call him when I get a chance.
Chewing my lip, I realize that I need to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. Not only because a sense of normality would be nice, and keeping up with friends is the logical and loyal thing to do, but because if I make any shift in my normal life, it will only leave room for people to suspect that something is going on. Jeez.
I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into this. Just the thought of having to monitor my behavior to have sex with the boy down the hall feels preposterous.
An odd burst of giggles escapes me at the thought.
I’m going insane.
The café is slow as it nears four thirty, and the ringing bell signals someone’s entry.
Ready with a smile, I turn around to greet the new customers, but when I lock eyes with a blue stare that matches my own, I pale. A pair of gray eyes I know well accompanies it.
“Josh! Rich! What are you two doing?”
Josh brushes his hand through his hair; the gel that had slicked it back is nearly nonexistent after a full day’s work, making him look more boyish in his sharp suit. I notice that he’s already removed his tie. His movements are matched with a raised brow and a smile as he watches me.
“Hey, Sprout. I was just popping in to say hello, and I caught this guy in the parking lot.”
I’m tempted to face-palm myself right then and there as I eye Rich. Of course. Rich is studying with me here.
“Oh.”
I stumble with my words, thinking I must find a sense of normality this instant.
“What brings you in here? Just a hello? Usually your hellos come with a favor.”
The heartwarming chuckle that erupts from my brother calms me a little bit. It seems he isn’t here to question me about Blake. I mean, he doesn’t have a reason to. I remember overhearing my brother talking to Blake at the foot of my stairs, and I try desperately to stop the pink color from rising to my cheeks, but it’s obviously a pointless thing to attempt.
“You’re funny. For once I’m dropping in to request some brother-sister time. I’ve been super busy with work and—”
“Vanessa?” I cover my mouth.
He purses his lips. “About that . . .”
I grab for a dirty rag, averting my eyes as I wipe down the counter, feeling an odd sense of brimming embarrassment at the mention of my brother getting involved—screwing? Seeing? Ugh, whatever he’s doing—with anyone, especially a close friend of mine.
“Spare me, Josh.”
He shuts his mouth.
My life is all about periodic bouts of luck as he switches back to what he was saying. “I was hoping for a brother-sister movie night, like old times.”
My chest swells with the need for some family time, reminding myself he’s all I have, and without him, I’d be nothing.
My brother is five years older than me, and things were off for a long time when our parents were alive because he left the state to join his then-girlfriend at Cornell University. When our parents passed away while he was still across the country, he left me alone to deal with the anguish. Ever since, Josh has been eager to take advantage of any family time he can get. Sometimes I hope he wants it rather than thinking he owes it to me. Regardless, I am grateful to have such an awesome human being in my life.
Guilt is quick to make an appearance, but I grin and bear it. I have to.
“I’d love that.”
“You’re not too busy for your big brother?”
I roll my eyes. “Of course not. When?”
“Tomorrow night work for you?”
“I’ll pencil you in.”
He laughs again, nodding, and turns to shoot a sly smirk to Rich. Josh’s smile means something, and his eyes dart back to mine with the same look, but this time a raised brow accompanies it. I press my lips into a hard line, knowing very well he’s insinuating something between Rich and me, and he knows that’s a no-no topic. It’s actually an off-limits topic for everyone, including Tucker, but he tends to ignore the rules.
Trying to cut the developing tension before it gets worse and Rich is made into a nervous wreck in our presence, I say, “Are you done, my dear brother?”
He shakes his head, as if holding back a teasing comment, and I just want him to go away. Brother-sister teasing can be tomorrow, and I will really let him have it.
Predictably, he leans over the counter. “Can I get a smoothie?” He tilts his head to the side and smiles. It reminds me of Blake, and I remember that they’re best friends. On countless occasions, Josh has referenced the infamous person as a brother. That was before I met him.
The fact they share certain characteristics irks me, and I get annoyed with Blake. Why? I have no clue.
I grit my teeth and I realize I want my brother gone. “Sure.”
I prepare his smoothie, knowing it will be his usual strawberry banana. Rich is still silent, and I assume it’s because of my brother, but they seemed chummy moments ago.
I hand off the beverage to my waiting sibling, and just as quickly shoo him away.
He takes a sip. “Delicious! Thanks, Sprout. Sibling time tomorrow night!” He flashes a wide grin one more time before exiting the café, and that’s when I turn my eyes to Rich.
“Why are you so quiet over there?”
He smiles. “No reason.”
I lean against the counter and mirror his smile. “Why is it that I don’t believe you? You’ve always been a terrible liar.”
He laughs, leaning over the counter. My body buzzes but does not spark, and I put distance between us as I stand.
“Aren’t you off yet?” he asks.
I know he is changing the subject, but I go with it. I turn around to find Mike, the new guy.
&nb
sp; ***
I speed down the suburban streets after cutting my study session short. Rich was getting needy and nosy, which I can’t blame him for after my disappearing act during the party. His concerns, although riddled with good intentions, had me anxious to leave. He asked me out again, and it’s getting harder to refuse politely. I’m not in the business of explaining myself lately. I have other things on my mind, like letting Blake know that I’m not, in fact, hanging out with Rich tonight.
My stomach squirms, knowing my brother will most likely be home, but laying my eyes on Blake’s smile would be good enough for me.
As I pull into my driveway, I heave in a heavy breath before saying out loud to myself, “What are you doing? You can’t think like that. You’re fucking, not dating. You don’t want that anyway.”
The logical med student references the chapter in my human sexuality class from last year on how a woman will feel some primal need to connect with someone she’s having sex with. I will not be a textbook fact. This is the modern world. I can do this. I can play Blake’s game, but I want to do it better.
I know it would be better for me to go upstairs to my room and spend the night getting my head around the situation. Sex this morning has sent my libido and me into a horny tailspin.
I resist the need to smack myself as I climb out of my car. I gain a sense of calm with the crisp end-of-summer breeze, signaling the oncoming fall.
I feel good. I feel adult. I feel . . . ugh, who am I kidding?
A part of me wishes I grabbed a bottle of wine on the way home, but I trek to my front door. When I open it, my senses are assaulted by an unfamiliar girlish giggle. My gut swells with nerves as I enter my home.
I didn’t fathom this possible scene, and I’m an idiot for not doing so.
“Josh?” erupts loudly from the living room, and the giggles fail to cease.
I clench my jaw and square my shoulders as if preparing for battle. I make my full entrance, and I worry my tone is brusquer than I want.
“Nope!”
When I enter the living room, there’s a cute blonde, dainty and gorgeous, lying on my couch, her legs perched on Blake’s lap. I think she’s smiling at me, but I’m unable to tell because I’m looking at a stunned Blake. He tries hiding his expression behind puckered brows, but the glow of his eyes gives him away.