by S. J. Sylvis
Then he laughed and shook his head. “We’ve watched this, like, 500 times. Pick something else.”
I gasped. “But it’s my favorite!”
“Last time we watched this, you tried to act like you were an actual Charlie’s Angel and you literally almost broke your parents’ coffee table.”
I jumped up to my knees, throwing the remote over to him. He grunted but caught it at the last second. His eyes were wide and his mouth was opened halfway.
“What’re you doing?” he asked, acting mildly frustrated.
I smiled wickedly at him. “I’ve been practicing.” Then I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
He barked out a laugh and I swear, I felt it all the way to my soul. I loved making him laugh.
“Come ‘ere,” I whined. “I need a dummy.”
His expression was wary. “No. I’ll let you watch this movie, only because the chicks are seriously hot in that get-up,” he swirled his finger toward the screen, “but, I am not letting you perform some half-ass karate kick on me.”
I stuck out my bottom lip. “Pleeeeeease. Let me show you my self-defense moves.”
He lifted an eyebrow and then jolted his eyes down to my bottom lip. Several seconds passed as he stared at my mouth and once again, my body started to feel hot. Like I needed to fan myself.
Is this PMS? Why am I so hot all of a sudden? I felt out of breath.
“Fine,” he huffed, swinging his long, jean-clad legs over the bed. His red t-shirt clung to his upper body, even after he shook his arms out like he was getting ready for a brawl.
I giggled again and he came and stood out in front of me. He laughed, his shoulders shaking a bit.
“I have so much fun with you,” I said.
Dawson’s laughter faded. His chest heaved up and down heavily and I watched as he swallowed harshly, the muscles in his neck straining.
Then he popped his neck, his caramel-colored, shaggy hair falling over his forehead. “Alright, come on. Show me whatcha got.”
Instantly, I felt giddy. I took a few steps back from him, angling my body towards his. His eyes were dancing with excitement and anticipation, and then I spun around, whipping my back leg up and towards his torso.
His hand caught it at the last second as he let out a grunt and then we both tumbled to the floor.
I was rolling with laughter when I looked up at his face. His mouth was opened wide but there was still a smile on it. He didn’t think I’d actually use that much force to kick him, but I was serious when I’d told him I’d been practicing.
I’d been going to kick-boxing with my mom for the past few weeks. I was channeling my true, inner Charlie’s Angel.
As soon as I stopped laughing and my body relaxed, my eyes slowly trailed down to his hand. He was sitting upright on his butt, but his palm was still splayed, wide-open on my upper thigh.
I stared down at it, feeling the air shift around us. It was like a nice, warm blanket encasing us, for just a second. No scary overthinking clouded the moment. Just his hand on my thigh, causing butterflies to erupt from deep within. I felt a strange pull in my belly and goosebumps spread along my arms.
The TV was still playing in the background but the only noise I could focus on was his breathing. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that, but what I was sure of, was how alive I felt with his hand on my leg.
I wanted him to leave it there.
I wanted the thrill of his hands on my body.
I wanted him.
I wanted my best friend.
Chapter Six
Dawson
My hand is on her thigh. My hand is on her thigh and the only thing I can think about is how I want to inch it upward, towards her sweetest part.
What am I doing?
I’m ruining everything.
But I didn’t care.
My hand twitched forward, just a fraction of a centimeter. I waited to see her reaction. I waited to see if she would pull her leg back and scramble to her feet, but she didn’t. She took a sharp inhale of breath and I flicked my eyes up to hers.
The gold specks within her emerald eyes were sparkling, like they were egging me on. And did they ever.
I moved my hand even further, feeling excitement run along my veins. She was so perfect, and beautiful. And… just Ivy. My breaths were uneven. They were coming in spurts. I wanted to pounce on her. I wanted to lay her on her back and claim her mouth with mine. I’d imagined the way her tongue would feel along mine all fucking night.
Things were moving at a wicked fast pace. This morning, I looked at her like she was my best friend, but now I was looking at her like she was my lifeline.
Like I’d literally die if I didn’t feel her lips on mine in the next three seconds.
Slowly, I pulled my upper body upright, so I was caging her body within mine. There was nowhere for her to go. She could either sit here and push me away or lay back and allow me to claim her like my entire body was telling me to do.
She didn’t move, at all. Only her mouth. My eyes left hers and I stared down at her pale pink, heart-shaped mouth. It opened, just slightly, and I could smell the sweet, vanilla ice cream on her breath. I licked my lips, mere seconds away from kissing her, and then she jumped, letting out a small scream.
I shot my head up and looked in the direction of my door.
“Whoa, my bad. I thought you were alone.”
I clenched my eyes shut tightly and then opened them to stare at my older brother. I was about to tell him to get the fuck out and shut the door but my mouth halted when I realized he had a fucking terrible, swollen black-eye.
My shoulders slumped as I took in his appearance. He’d been in a fight. That part was obvious. Dark green grass stains covered the knees of his jeans, and his t-shirt looked loose around the neck, like someone had pulled on it. His dark hair was sticking up in several different directions and in addition to his blackening eye, his nose had a little dried blood just below his right nostril.
“What happened?” I asked, not taking my hand off Ivy’s leg. She was sitting with her back bone-straight to my brother. Her lips were smooshed together and she was staring directly at my face.
I glanced back up to my brother and his forehead furrowed before he asked, “Ivy?”
Her shoulders slumped and then she slowly swiveled her body towards the door.
“Hi, Emmett.” I couldn’t help but notice the pink blush that crept across her cheeks. It made me grin and when she looked back at me, she was acting totally opposite of the Ivy I knew; she was being shy. Ivy wasn’t normally shy around me, even with other people around. But looking at her right now, she looked ready to bolt out of my room in less than five seconds.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two…were…um.” My brother stuttered over his words and it made a sharp laugh fall out of my mouth. He started to ramble even after I laughed. “I saw the light on and I figured if you were in here with a girl, it would be Ivy and you two would be goofing off, but…”
Ivy coughed out an uncomfortable noise and I smirked.
“I’ll just leave you two to it then,” he hastily murmured and then backed away from the door and all but ran down the hall.
I had no idea why he was being so weird about this. I mean, sure, it was Ivy. My best friend. Emmett had been around her before, and when he went to school with us last year, he protected her like she was his little sister…but, I guess he hadn’t realized that I felt this way about her.
I hadn’t fully realized it either, until about five hours ago.
I mean, yes, I’d always loved her and cared for her and I’d definitely dance around the line of flirting versus being friendly many times, but it’d never been like this. I’d never touched her with the real intention of actually kissing her. I’d touched her because it just felt right.
It felt even more right after what had just happened.
“Uh, I need to go talk to him, I think.” I said, finally taking my hand off her leg.
She lo
oked down, her brown hair falling wistfully in her face, shielding it completely from me. I didn’t like that. I needed to see what she was thinking.
Her voice fell over me in the softest way, like a leaf falling from a tree in the middle of fall. “Yeah, definitely. He looked… bad.”
I sat there for a second, feeling my heart thump wildly in my chest. I wasn’t going to pretend like what just happened, didn’t.
I was not shoving this under the rug like earlier.
“Look at me,” I pleaded. Ivy’s head popped up so quickly that her chestnut hair flew back out of her face. Her green eyes were vividly scared and confused which was a lot like being punched in the gut.
“We’re going to talk about what just happened when I come back in here, okay?”
Ivy sucked in her lower lip, biting on it gently with her teeth…which was not helping matters, whatsoever. She swallowed, allowing her mouth to close once again. Then she slowly nodded her head and I just couldn’t help but let the next words tumble out.
“I don’t regret it.”
She sucked in a breath, widening her eyes.
Her voice almost quivered. “You don’t?”
I smiled. “Never.”
Ivy let herself smile, just a small one, which was probably forced. Even through her weak smile, I could see the weary expression on her face. That’s when I took my hand and placed it underneath her chin. My heart was hammering in my chest and I can honestly say that I’d never felt so compelled to make someone calm in my entire life. “Just relax, Ivy. It’s still me you’re talking to.”
She let out a sigh and nodded, a small smile still lingering. I knew exactly what she was thinking in that moment, though. I knew her so well that it was obvious. It was also very clear to me that I was thinking something similar: This is gonna change everything.
When I walked out my bedroom door, I turned the corner and rested my back against the wall. I angled my head up and looked at the darkened ceiling, breathing out a huge breath and trying to reassure myself that it wasn’t a dream and that I had, in fact, just tried to pounce on my best friend of the last four years.
All those taunts and remarks from my friends reverberated in the back of my mind. I think everyone had known that there was always something different with Ivy and I. Memories slammed into me and I truly couldn’t comprehend how it had taken me this long to recognize the way my heart beat a little faster in my chest when she walked out her front door in the morning to climb into my Camaro. Or the way I felt blinded with anger when I’d hear some guy talking about how attractive she was; much like I felt a couple days ago when I saw the hurt flash on her face from Tyler. Whenever things were going wrong in my life, I turned to her. She was the only person I knew that could make me feel better, that could make me feel a little lighter.
I was pretty sure I was in love with my best friend, and I wasn’t the type of guy who fell in love. I wasn’t the type of guy who was sweet and tried to wow a girl, just to make her smile. I wasn’t the type of guy who could grow a weird fluttery feeling in his lower stomach just from the mere touch of someone’s skin.
I mumbled under my breath, “Jesus,” and then pushed off the wall and walked towards my brother’s room, opening his door quickly and marching inside.
He spun around, a huge smirk covering his bruised face.
“Dammmmmn, took ya long enough, bro.”
I rolled my eyes. “What?”
He barked out a laugh and landed with a thud on his messy bed. “Dude, I knew that you’d fall for her eventually. I honestly didn’t think it’d be this soon, but I knew it’d happen.”
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up and that she was only my best friend. But the words literally evaporated on my tongue when I opened my mouth.
Walking a little further into the room, I leaned my back against his closet door and sighed. I rubbed my hand through my hair and finally met his eyes.
“I don’t wanna fuck it up.”
Emmett only stared at me, taking in what I’d said.
My brother and I, we hadn’t had a decent conversation in so long. He’d been away at his hell school for the last year and when he’d come home for a visit, he’d stay holed up in his room or be out behaving wildly with friends.
Just like tonight. Except tonight, whatever friends he had been with weren’t the best, apparently.
I would never admit it aloud, but I missed him. I missed my older brother and I hated that he was so closed off and angry at the world. I didn’t understand it. Not entirely, anyway. He was just unhappy, all the time.
“You won’t fuck it up, Dawson. You care about her too much to fuck it up.”
My heart was heavy and I felt like I was being smashed by a tidal wave of uncertainty.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked, changing the subject.
He blew out a sigh and popped himself back up on the bed.
“I was just coming to tell you that I was leaving.”
My brows folded. “What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought break was for another week.”
Emmett stared at me for a few uncomfortable seconds and then let it all pour out.
“I’m tired of being here. I hate it here. I hate this house. I hate how Mom and Dad are always breathing down my neck and telling me to ‘get it together.’ I fucking hate how they don’t know me at all. They don’t know you, either. They don’t know anything but how to bury themselves in work; they think that if they make enough money, all will be right in the world. I’m sick of it. I’m angry here and I become angrier with each passing second that I’m in this town and this house.”
Silence crossed between us. I heard everything he was saying and I understood every single bit of it.
He was right. He and I – we were basically on our own. We’d been on our own for so long. I honestly can’t remember the last time we all ate as a family. I think back, and it must have been when we were still in grade school, and even then, our parents probably talked nonstop about their jobs, or bickered. It was kind of depressing, now that I truly thought about it.
Our parents weren’t terrible. It wasn’t like we didn’t get fed or had to fend for ourselves. We weren’t forced to get jobs to pay our car payments and insurance. They’ve always showered us with materialistic things and we’ve always received a load sum of money each month into our accounts, but that was it. No lengthy but helpful conversations about school, or college. No talk of an upcoming family vacation. We didn’t really talk at all.
And the only time I heard my parents converse was if they were discussing work or if they were arguing.
It made my chest ache to think about it. I felt suffocated by tension in my house. Like the walls were closing in on us.
“Where are you going to go?” I asked.
He looked around the room for a brief second before answering. “I’m staying with a friend. I’ll finish the next couple of months at the school and then I’ll get a job and figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life. I’m just… I’m done, Dawson.”
I nodded, my back still pressed along the wall. I briefly thought about how freeing it would feel to just leave. My future was kind of blurry when I looked into it. I figured I would just work with my dad after high school, or maybe go to college and then work with him. He’d have to retire eventually from his contractor’s job; he owned the business and he used to tell Emmett he wanted him to take over.
Maybe I would take over one day. Did I want to? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t really put much thought into it. All I knew was that I liked to play soccer, hang out with my friends, and be with Ivy. Those were the only things I cared about.
It wasn’t like that with Emmett, though. He was very adamant and made it clear to my parents that he didn’t want to work with my father. He didn’t want to take over the business—if I remember correctly, he liked to draw.
He was always drawing and creating stuff when we were younger. My mom used to encourage it when
we would sit on the living room floor and play as kids, but as he got older and more interested in art, she stopped noticing or caring. One or the other.
My father used to encourage him to focus on school. To focus on woodshop or math (two things that would pertain to his line of work). Emmett wanted none of it, which was more than likely the culprit to him acting out so much.
“I’ll help you pack,” I finally said. Emmett looked surprised, like he’d thought I was going to tell him not to go. Like I wouldn’t understand what he was feeling or where he was coming from. But even if I hadn’t understood, it didn’t matter. The only thing I wanted was for him to be happy.
“What are you going to tell Mom and Dad?” he asked, pulling out a duffel bag and shoving some of his clothes inside.
I grabbed another, pulling things out of his dresser.
“I’ll tell them that they probably should have acted like they cared a little more.”
He chuckled but then his expression turned stormy. His blue eyes darkened to the point that the color blended in with his swollen black eye.
“Are you gonna be okay?” he questioned, pausing his packing.
I grinned. “I have Ivy. I’ll be fine.”
He nodded as a smile worked its way on his face.
“Don’t fuck it up.”
I gulped, turning my attention back to filling up the other bag.
I won’t fuck it up.
I couldn’t.
Chapter Seven
Ivy
Something jolted me awake, but I wasn’t sure what it was. The dim light of the small lamp beside me caused my eyes to adjust quickly. My heart pounded in my chest when I realized that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
I was in Dawson’s room. I wasn’t alarmed that I was in his room; it’s not like I hadn’t been in there before, but I suddenly remembered what had happened before I accidently fell asleep.
Us almost kissing again, the proximity of his body near mine, the way my body burned with his hand on my leg. Then, his promise to discuss it when he got back from talking with his brother.