Just Love

by Prescott Lane

  Step one of my plan—preventative jerk off.

  No offense to Sadie, but man’s other best friend is his cock. Men have been beating off since the beginning of time. I bet Adam whacked one off in the Garden of Eden. Sure, we do it because we are horny, but it’s not solely about pleasure. We jerk off to relieve stress, help us sleep, or just because we’re fucking bored, so why not do it for preventative measures?

  So begins the pattern—work, jerk off, evening stroll with Sadie and Ainsley, sometimes ice cream, say goodnight before my boner comes back. I always end the evening at her door.

  My plan works for the next week or so.

  This time, feeling my preventative beat-off subsiding, I move to push the elevator button behind me. “I’ll see you at my parents’ house this weekend,” I say, reminding her of the little welcome home dinner my mom and dad are having for her.

  “I can’t wait to see them,” Ainsley says then starts chatting away about Skye and Brody’s upcoming wedding. Sadie seems to be getting bored because she nudges Ainsley in the ass. Ainsley pats her head, a half-attempt at affection. Normally, Sadie’s mellow, lazy, and arthritic, which is why I didn’t expect Sadie to jump on Ainsley’s back, knocking her into my arms.

  Dropping the leash to the ground, I can’t even scold Sadie. All I can manage to do is stare into Ainsley’s perfect blue eyes and try to stop from combusting at the heat coursing through my veins. Her breasts are pushed against my chest, and her skin is so soft and warm. For a split second, I forget she’s my best friend’s little sister. I forget I’m supposed to think of her as my little sister. She’s simply a beautiful woman in my arms, and somehow my lips fall to hers, and my hand goes around her waist, pulling her tighter.

  It’s a soft, tender brush of lips, nothing more, but God help me, the sweetest little moan falls from her lips. I’m done for. I push her against the door, pinning her arms over her head, feeling her nipples harden. I want to take her right here in the hallway. Her tongue meets mine, exploring my mouth, and I can’t believe she isn’t slapping me away. She wants this, too. How did I not know that?

  We slow a bit, no longer frantic for each other, falling into a rhythm of pure pleasure. Slow and sweet with an intensity I could never have imagined. Her hands slip through my hair. Mine slip to her perfect ass, pulling her tighter. In that instant, I’m addicted.

  I’m not sure which one of us pulls away first, but when we finally do, she gives me a coy smile, her eyes holding the sexiest look, and I know we aren’t just friends anymore.

  I look down and swear to God, Sadie is smiling, too, totally pleased with herself. When I look back up at Ainsley, the magnitude of what just happened, what I wanted to happen, hits me. I take a step back, watching her eyes change from delight to dread. “I shouldn’t have done that” are the words that come out of my mouth, but every part of my body is screaming otherwise. Her eyes gloss over, and I know she’s holding in tears.

  She reaches for the doorknob and says, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Ainsley? It’s just, I mean, Brody trusts me,” I stammer. “I can’t do this to him.”

  Her head whirls around so fast I worry she might hurt herself. “I’m a grown woman, for God’s sake. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  “He’s my best friend, my business partner.”

  She doesn’t look away or nod that she understands. Instead, she takes a step toward me, placing her hand on my chest. She’s so close I can smell her shampoo. Leaning forward, her soft lips press to my cheek. I suck in a deep breath, using every ounce of self-control in my body not to turn my lips to hers.

  I do the only thing a good best friend can do—keep my distance. No more walking Sadie with Ainsley. It’s best to stay away from her for a while until things calm down. I can avoid her the rest of my life if I have to. I’m lying. I actually have to see her today; my parents are hosting that welcome home dinner for her.

  It feels like it’s been a helluva lot longer than the week it’s been since that kiss. I miss her—her smile, her scent, her laugh. Taking those walks with her were the best part of my day.

  But I’ve resisted every urge to call her, to text her, to knock on her door. Seeing Brody at work every day is enough of a reminder why nothing more can happen with Ainsley. We’re lucky no one in the building saw that kiss. Brody still has other friends that live there, and patients, too. It could’ve easily gotten back to him. That’s why keeping my distance from Ainsley is best. I’m trying to do the right thing here, but honestly, it sucks.

  I wonder if she’s avoiding me, too. I haven’t run into her on the elevator or even caught a glimpse of her coming or going. It’s possible she thinks she’s the one avoiding me.

  I’m not the only one suffering from withdrawal. Sadie’s not been herself, either. The past few nights, she’s walked even slower on our evening strolls, stopping and sitting down halfway around the block and refusing to go any further. Not even the promise of sharing a steak for dinner could perk her up.

  I’m a vet, which means I give advice all day long to people with obese pets about the dangers of table food, but Sadie’s geriatric by any standards, so I figure she should be happy in her old age, but nothing could cheer her up the past few days. I know how she feels.

  I tell myself it’s no big deal to be at my parents’ house for a barbecue. They love Brody and Ainsley like their family. My parents knew Brody and Ainsley’s parents just from he and I being roommates and friends. My mom and dad told me that if anything ever happened to them, they’d want someone to make me a home cooked meal and invite me over for Christmas. They saw it as doing for Brody and Ainsley what they would want someone to do for me. The Bennett family Christmas went from hanging three stockings to five.

  So it’s natural for us all to get together. I just wish it had happened before I kissed Ainsley. Things are bound to be awkward. I just hope I can look at her and not think about the way her lips felt on mine.

  My parents’ house is something out of a magazine, resembling an old, antebellum mansion. It’s built in the Charleston single style, popular for the area. Basically, the house looks sideways from the street—one room wide, but several rooms deep, designed that way to save valuable land space and maximize breezes through open windows. Blue with green shutters, it’s located about twenty minutes outside Charleston in Mount Pleasant. Pictures and keepsakes from my childhood line the shelves and walls. My old basketball hoop still hangs over the garage. My dad and I used to spend hours out there. Most of our big father/son talks happened while shooting hoops. There’s a huge backyard, which Sadie loves, so I always bring her with me when I visit. My parents love her just as much as I do.

  I’m late, and I have no good excuse why. Work ended on time. Traffic wasn’t horrible. The only thing keeping me from getting here on time is that I didn’t want to risk getting here when Ainsley might be the only other guest. I wanted to make sure that Brody and Skye would be here before I arrived.

  I walk through the door to my parents’ house a good half hour after my mom said to be there. I’m not usually late. My mom’s a worrier, so my dad and I always try to be on time. I doubt she worried today, though. Too much excitement over Ainsley’s return to Charleston.

  This house never changes. Sure, my mom updates the decor, but the feel of the house never changes. It always feels like home. I’m not sure how my parents pull that off, but they do. It makes me smile even on the worst days. Come to think of it, being around Ainsley usually makes me feel the same way.

  I bend down to give Sadie a hearty scratch behind her ear, just the spot she likes. When I look up, my eyes land on a pair of long, lean legs, the ones I’ve fantasized about having wrapped around me more times than I care to admit.

  Standing up straight, I look through the house, seeing Brody and Skye are outside by the barbecue. I can hear my parents in the kitchen and smell the cookies my mom’s been baking.

  “You’re late!” Ainsley whisper-shouts.
/>   “So?”

  “It’s not normal for you to be late.”

  Honestly, I’m not a dumb guy, but sometimes female logic couldn’t be figured out by the president of Mensa. It’s a whole lot easier to understand what a dog is thinking than a woman. A dog is happy, its tail wags. When a woman’s ass shakes, does that mean she’s happy? When your pet is mad at you, you might find poop in the house. When your woman is mad at you, you might hear about it for decades to come. Of course, you can always tell your dog to sit and stay. If you want to see tomorrow, I advise you never order your woman to sit and stay.

  She throws her hands up a little. “Brody can never find out what happened between us.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So, if you don’t want Brody to get suspicious, you need to act normal.”

  “Being late isn’t exactly a big ass clue that I kissed you,” I say. “I’m totally fine.”

  “Good, because it was just one little kiss,” she says, taunting me.

  “Right, didn’t mean anything,” I say, heading inside as she flinches as if I’ve struck her.

  Why did I say that? Why did I lie? What a fucking disaster. I couldn’t tell her what that kiss did to me, that I haven’t slept through the night since, thinking about her soft lips. That wouldn’t help either of us. It wouldn’t change the fact that she’s still off limits.

  Still, I know I hurt her feelings. I feel horrible, but it’s better off this way. It’s the way it has to be. It’s better to hurt her a little now than to have a bigger heartache later.

  I walk into the kitchen. Sadie takes her spot on a fluffy rug, and I take mine at the island beside my dad. My parents both kiss me on the side of the head. It doesn’t matter how old I get, they never miss a chance to kiss me or each other. Yes, I have those parents. The ones that smack each other’s asses and have a sex drawer next to their bed that I’m not supposed to know about.

  My dad is one of those rare attorneys that actually loves his job. He doesn’t practice as much anymore, preferring to spend his days forming the legal minds of tomorrow by teaching Criminal Justice at The Citadel. My mom stayed home with me my whole life. When I went to college, she decided to get her real estate license, and has made a name for herself in the Charleston area.

  My mom holds up a plate of cookies, and I take one. My place was always the hangout spot when I was in high school. These cookies are part of the reason why. Everyone loves them. My mom calls them “Marry Me” cookies. Supposedly baking them for your boyfriend guarantees a proposal. Guess it worked on my dad.

  Ainsley walks in, snatching the cookie right out of my hand, takes a huge bite, and licks her lips. The little tease. I know that look in her eye. She’s about to teach me a lesson.

  “You always did make the best cookies, Diane,” Ainsley says, giving my mom a hug.

  “So sweet of you,” my mom says, giving me a little wink.

  My dad gets one arm around Ainsley, lifting her slightly in the air. “Cliff,” my mom playfully scolds him. “Put her down.”

  Ainsley gives him a huge hug, and my dad says, “It’s been too long. What have you been up to? Rhett says he hasn’t seen you much, either.”

  So I left out the part where we walked Sadie together every night for days and days. To her credit, Ainsley doesn’t miss a beat, telling them about her hopes to open a store one day, and that she’ll be designing Skye’s wedding dress in the meantime.

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her. The way she smiles as she talks—there’s no ignoring that. I don’t know the first damn thing about silk or pearls or sequins. I couldn’t tell you the difference between Chantilly lace and Venetian lace to save my life, but the passion with which Ainsley talks about it all makes me care. I think I could care about anything she’s talking about if she’s smiling like that.

  “Maybe you could help me look at some options for a storefront, if I decide to open a store here in Charleston?” Ainsley says to my mom.

  I know my mom wouldn’t take a commission, either. Ainsley is family in her book.

  “Oh, I’d love to,” my mom says.

  They continue to chat and catch up, but I might as well not be in the room. Ainsley hasn’t addressed me, asked me a question. She’s barely even glanced my way. My dad looks at me then back to Ainsley. I can see his lawyer mind spinning like he’s getting ready to cross examine a witness, preparing to lay a trap for them to unknowingly stumble into.

  “So any dates since you’ve been back, Ainsley?” my dad asks, his eyes glued on me. “Must be someone special.”

  Damn! He can tell something is off. Ainsley and I haven’t said two words to each other. Normally, we talk, joke around. My parents aren’t used to this silent treatment, and neither am I.

  “Not really,” Ainsley says, glancing at me.

  “Oh, come on,” my dad says, eyeing me again. “Pretty girl like you, they must be standing in line.”

  “I think Brody scares them all off,” she says, giving me a sweet smile.

  “That reminds me,” Skye says, walking into the kitchen. “Ainsley, Rhett, are either one of you bringing a date to the engagement party? I’ve got to get the final numbers in. It’s tomorrow night.”

  Ainsley’s blue eyes find mine. I haven’t firmed up any plans for the party. I know I should bring someone, but the only person I want to take is staring at me, and I can’t ask her. Still, I can’t bring myself to play with her that way. “Going solo,” I say.

  “Everyone lock up the bridesmaids,” Brody says, walking in and tossing his arm around Skye’s shoulder.

  “I’m a bridesmaid,” Ainsley says, halting Brody’s laughter.

  He tips her nose with his finger, like he used to when she was younger. “Everyone knows not to mess with my sister.”

  “Where’s my phone? What’s the name of that new dating app? I’m sure I can find a twenty-something year old guy to hook up with on there,” Ainsley says.

  Skye busts into a huge laugh. Brody looks at me, frowning. “It was easier when she was sixteen,” Brody says then turns to his sister. “I’m going to do better about smothering you.”

  What the fuck! I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. He chooses now to stop acting like his sister’s personal bouncer? I nudge Brody. “You really gonna let her swipe right?”

  “Hell, no,” Brody says, giving his sister a look. “I have my limits.”

  Ainsley looks like she’s about to knee him in the groin. Right as she opens her mouth, Skye interrupts her. “So no plus one for you either, Ainsley?”

  Her question is met with silence. Ainsley’s eyes look everywhere but at me, like she’s searching for the truth.

  “Maybe Rhett should bring Ainsley?” my dad suggests, cutting the silence with a knife.

  Ainsley’s and my eyes both dart to him. What the hell? My mom kicks his leg a little.

  Brody looks like one confused motherfucker right now. “Um . . .”

  Trying to salvage things, my dad offers, “I’m just saying, it might help keep Ainsley from getting hit on all night.”

  Brody laughs. “That’s not a bad idea. Rhett?”

  Before I can answer, Ainsley bites out, “I have a date!”

  “Who?” I ask, my voice sounding more than a little pissed.

  “Why didn’t you say?” Brody asks Ainsley.

  “I can’t deal with this,” she says, waving her hands around then storming out.

  Brody looks at Skye then me and my parents, asking, “Did I overdo it again?”

  We all nod in unison. Brody starts to follow his sister, “I better go smooth things over.”

  “Give her some space,” Skye says.

  “Why don’t you and Skye go out to the yard?” my mom says to Brody. “Get some fresh air.”

  The house sits on Charleston Harbor. Even though we’re barely out of the city limits, it feels like a vacation spot. It’s a daily occurrence to see boats passing by, enjoying the fishing, but it’s
the sunsets that make this spot special. My mom says that God is an artist, and Charleston sunsets are his canvas, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. But I always liked the thunderstorms out here the best. The way the lightning bolts look like they are disappearing into the water, the way the thunder seems to boom extra loud always fascinated me. I used to love to open my bedroom window when a storm was coming. Storms have a certain smell, like the oxygen is more pure. I don’t get to enjoy the rain too much anymore. Sadie hates storms, hiding under the bed. I’ve tried everything from aromatherapy for dogs (yes, there is such a thing), to this straight-jacket type thing, which was an epic fail. I’ve even resorted to giving her drugs to calm her, but nothing works.

  Skye and Brody head out of the kitchen, and I start to follow them. But my dad places his hand on my shoulder. Calling out to Brody and Skye, I say, “Give me a sec.”

  As soon as they’re out of earshot, my mom starts, “What’s going on with you and Ainsley?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

  “Come on, Rhett,” my dad says. “You look like someone slugged you in the gut.”

  “I just had too many of Mom’s cookies,” I lie, but even I don’t believe that one.

  “How long have you been feeling this way about her?” he asks.

  My parents have always had a sixth sense with me. The thing is, I’m an only child, so my parents had no one else to focus on but me. We’ve always had a pretty open relationship with each other. They know who my first kiss was, and I suspect they know when I lost my virginity, although I tried to keep that one secret. I’ve never brought home a girlfriend to meet them, so I’m sure they know that I’ve been more of a player than the committed type. We talk about most things. So this line of questioning is par for the course with them.

  Still, that doesn’t mean this is any of their business. “You guys, please . . .”

  “Rhett,” my mom says, laying her hand on top of mine.

  That’s all it takes. I don’t want to lie to them. Besides, it seems like the cat is out of the bag, at least where my parents are concerned. “She’s Brody’s little sister, I can’t go there. No matter what I feel. He’s my friend and business partner. If it went badly with Ainsley, it would ruin everything.”