by Logan Chance
He hops down from the table, making his way to the wood door. “Sure,” he whispers.
The next hour is not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. Ryan and I fall back into our best friend groove, and I help him work out his shoulder.
At the end of the session, after many laughs and jokes, he says he’ll call me later to hang out. And, I wish for one tiny second it could be more than it is.
9
Cryin’
“Make love, not war.” - Tor Faegre
Fuck, I need to keep my head in the game. Being with Lizzy is not an option. She deserves better, not a fucked-up war vet like me.
No, Lizzy deserves the best things life has to offer.
After leaving the doctor’s office, I drive into town, stopping at a small bar within the city limits of Miami.
When I step through the wooden doors, I’m transported back in time. Annoying neon lights flash against an oval, frosted-glass bar. The music is even straight out of the 1980’s. It’s all a bit ridiculous, but as I examine the few people who are out on a weekday, they appear to be enjoying themselves.
I park myself on a vinyl red stool and order an Old Fashioned. The muscle-clad bartender muddles the orange, cherries, and sugar, and my mind wanders back to her. She would love it here. Retro and nostalgic. She’d be dancing like all the girls up on stage right now. But she’d look way better than the primadonnas up there now. Lizzy with her wild hair bumping and grinding to Boy George, what a sight that would be.
Downing my drink, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing with my life. The open enrollment for school has ended with me not even signing up for a semester. Working for my father is cool, but I can’t do it for much longer.
It doesn’t really matter anyway; life goes on, whether you plan for it or not.
“Cover your left eye and read the fourth line down,” Dr. James says, as I stand in his stark white office again. It feels like a frozen tundra with how cold it is and how icy I feel inside.
I cover my eye, repeating what I see, “L, P, E, B.”
He marks furiously in my patient chart. “Third line.”
“T, O, Z.”
“Very good.” He stands in front of me, pressing along my temples. “Any headaches?”
“Nope, none.” I smile, hoping he believes me. The last two headaches were nothing…just the heat, I’m sure.
“How’s therapy going for that shoulder?” he asks.
“Good. It rarely hurts at all.” Now that is the truth, thanks to Lizzy’s magic fingers.
I leave his office with another follow up appointment scheduled. The Florida sun shines bright overhead, casting a shadow that follows me back to my father’s surf shop, back into work. This should be any surfer’s dream job, but for me…I’m not so sure. I always felt like I was destined for so much more. It’s one of the reasons I joined the military—to protect and serve.
Old habits die hard, and with military precision, I count off the klicks to my father’s shop…three klicks, three thousand meters.
Fresh air hits my face. Florida is full of sea and salt in the air; a mist of humidity on your skin. I would have given my left nut for a droplet of water in the air in Afghanistan. It was dry, dusty, sandy, and downright hot as hell.
After going through the motions at work, I dash through the now pouring rain and enter my bungalow. The pungent smell of lemons makes my eyebrows scrunch together. Knowing damn well my mother has been over to clean, I head off to the kitchen to see her efforts.
Just as I thought, the bright stainless steel appliances and granite countertops glisten beneath the overhead light. I’m not a slob by any means. As a matter of fact, the 1500 square feet of my home are usually pristine thanks to the military. The sand colored tile throughout is clean enough to eat off of. She still likes to feel “needed,” and this is her way of doing it, I guess.
I flick on the TV, and settle in the leather recliner to watch Lance’s surfing competition from last spring. A knock at the door breaks my attention from the show, and I answer to find a dripping wet Lizzy. “Can I come in?” she asks with a slight shiver to her voice.
“Yeah, of course.” I snap into action, moving out of the way and down the hallway. “Let me get you a towel.”
She follows me, rubbing her arms to warm up. “Thanks.”
“What are you doing? Playing in the rain?”
She eyes me sideways. “Very funny. I had to see you.”
I grab a thick, yellow towel for her and hand it over. She pulls her hair through it, wringing it out.
“Had to see me? Why?”
“I need your help,” she says, moving toward the kitchen to sit on a stool at the bar.
“Sure, ok. What’s up?” I slam my hands in the pockets of my worn-out jeans, waiting for her response.
She hmm’s and ah’s before she finally spits it out, “Connor asked me out again,” she says.
“What did you say?” I move closer.
“Well, I said yes.”
I crack a smile, hating she’s going out with him. “Is he going to recite Shakespeare the whole night?”
She looks down at the floor, then back at me. “No, I actually think that might be kind of cool.”
Jealousy, like a machine gun, fires off inside of me. “Right. Because it gets you going.” I want to break his fucking hands so he can’t put them on her.
“No, I didn’t mean that,” she denies.
I nudge her knees open and step between them. Towering over her, I lean in until our noses almost touch. “For where thou art, there is the world itself. And where thou art not, desolation.”
She sucks in a breath, her eyes closing, and I want to touch her.
Move away. Don’t do it.
But I can no longer heed my brain’s commands. My hand reaches forward, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
Her lids spring open, and the truths hidden behind her irises are overwhelming.
She wants me. She wants this. But just like me she’s afraid.
And, just like me she won’t cross that line.
But, fuck, I want to.
She leans into my touch. Her skin is soft against my rough palm.
My cock jumps, wanting only her. Needing only her.
“Lizzy,” I whisper.
“Do it, Ryan. Just do it.”
God, I wish I could, but I can’t. My hand falls from her face, and I back away to gaze into her eyes—serious and amber-colored with beautiful specks of gold.
It’s so hard to resist her, but I do it. “Let’s watch a movie.”
“Sure,” she says, rising and brushing past me.
We move to the couch, sitting side by side, and I start a movie we both loved growing up—We Were Soldiers. My shoulder aches, and Lizzy notices my discomfort.
“Here, come sit on the floor between my legs. I’ll rub your shoulder.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I do as told, and she gets to work, kneading my muscles into nirvana. It feels so good. Her hands roam all down my back sending waves of pleasure straight to my dick. I’m getting turned on, and I try to think about anything but her.
Gaskets, fuel pumps, and spark plugs of the Humvees we drove overseas. Hot days, sand in my eyes, and working all day on broken engines, hoping they’d make it across the desert. All these things flood my brain, but they’re no match for Lizzy’s hands on me.
Every push and pull ignites desire in my body.
Think car parts. Think about that goddamn desert. Think about anything.
But, it’s no use. I’m weak for her.
I turn, gazing up into her eyes and forget about the friendship. Forget about trying to not ruin this.
I run my hand up her thigh, and she closes her eyes. Her skin is so soft, and I continue up her shorts just a bit.
She moans, and it urges me on. Rising onto my knees, I add my other hand on her opposite leg.
“Ryan, I’ve wanted you for a long time,” she
whispers.
It’s like music to my ears when she utters the words. I apply pressure to her legs, massaging, as my lips kiss right above her knee.
Her hands fly into my hair, pulling and tugging me closer to her.
Staring at her right now, with the light from the TV fluttering against her light skin, I’ve never wanted anyone more.
How could I see her everyday but never truly see her?
She’s everything a woman should be. And, she’s got the biggest heart I’ve ever known.
I trace higher up her legs, underneath the denim of her shorts, nearing her center. There’s no turning back now.
There’s no stopping, even if I tried.
My cock aches to be inside her. To claim her.
To fill her up with passion.
When my lips meet hers, her mouth opens for me, allowing my tongue to run along hers. She’s the sweetest kisser.
I’m being a greedy bastard, but for now I don’t care. I’ll worry about the consequences of my actions later. After I’ve felt every part of her.
Her hands trace down my back, tugging my shirt over my head. When she lifts my shirt off, she sucks in a breath. Soft kisses tickle my chest and arms, and my hands pull at the button on her jean shorts.
“Lizzy, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
She smiles, and already it breaks my heart. A heart she’s slowly claiming with every glance, touch, and smile.
It breaks my heart because I know it won’t last. Tomorrow will be a new day, and I’ll come to terms with the fact that she deserves better than me. She deserves a man who’s not scarred from the war.
A man who can give her a life she’s always wanted.
But, tonight, I don’t care about any of those reasons.
No, tonight she’s mine.
Tonight, I’ll picture the life her and I could have had.
If things weren’t fucked up.
10
Lizard
“One friend can change your whole life.” - Wilson Kanadi
The way he touches me sets my skin ablaze. Everything he does is so right. The way he lifts me in his arms. How he carries me back to his room and tosses me on the bed like I’m a ragdoll. The way he steps back, running his finger along his jaw, as his intense stare is fixed on me.
“Take your clothes off. Let me see all of you,” he says, and my skin tingles with anticipation.
I’ve imagined this scenario a million times when I was younger. So as my wishes come true, I study him as he stands at the foot of the black, platform bed with his eyes clocking my every move. The time for doubts and insecurities is gone. This is happening, let the pieces of my heart fall where they may.
In ten seconds my clothes are gone, and his eyes fill with desire in the soft light of the moon streaming through the window.
The bed dips as he climbs on, hovering his body on top of mine.
I want to be with him. I want to have a life with him. I can see it all working out, not ending in mayhem like my parents. No, this could work.
A silent wish is made on the light of a faraway star. I cling to the hope that tomorrow things won’t change. That my best friend won’t regret crossing the line from friends to lovers.
My moans intensify when his hot mouth trails kisses down my neck. He pushes off his jeans. Sitting up, he lowers his boxers, and I prop up on my elbows to gain a better look. Oh. My. God.
In all my wildest fantasies, I never pictured Ryan with the package he’s offering me.
Long, thick, hard, and perfectly straight, pointing directly at me. I reach for it, my hands wrapping around the base.
The sexy sound he makes, bordering on a groan, as I lower my head to capture the tip between my lips spurs me on. I lick my tongue, swirling it, further down his shaft.
His hands race through my hair, clenching it tight within his fists. I’ve not given a lot of blow jobs, but I’m about to give him one he’ll never forget. Looking up at him, I take him further in my mouth as his head falls back, eyes shutting.
Pumping, licking, sucking, with both my hands and mouth, I give him the best blow job I can. Men are really at your mercy when you give them head. Feeling powerful with the way his thighs tremble and he thrusts into my mouth, I give his balls some attention.
“Fuck,” he grits out when I gently suck them into my mouth.
That’s all the confirmation I need that I’m doing everything right. I lick my way back up and he groans, loud, as I bob my head, his length hitting the back of my throat. My pussy aches with need for him.
“Lizzy, baby, I can’t take much more. I need you.” He tugs my hair, pulling my mouth from his throbbing cock.
“Then take me, Ryan. I’m yours.” I lay flat on my back, waiting for him to sheath a condom over his dick.
He climbs my body, kissing my skin and stopping at my breasts. Ah, god. I can’t control the moan that escapes when he sucks a nipple in between his lips, tugging gently with his teeth. My back arches, and I wrap my legs around his hips.
He lines himself up with me and enters me in one, slow push with a drawn out “fuuuuck.” My nails dig into his back.
Ah, it feels so good, filling me, stretching me. So big. This is what I’ve been waiting for. My heart beats so hard, I wonder if he can hear it.
Now I just need him to move, and he does. He rocks, pulling in and out at a steady rhythm.
The simple art of love making turns into fucking with one hard thrust from Ryan. He picks up speed, digging his dick deeper inside me.
It’s insane the feelings running rampant through my bones. The longing of wanting him for so long. The satisfaction that it’s finally happening.
The madness turns poetic in a sense. Him pounding into me. Hands digging into my hips. Harsh breaths in my ear. The tender way he says my name.
Everything in this moment is exactly what I want for a lifetime.
I cling to his shoulders, squeezing my legs tighter around him. He doesn’t let up, and I wouldn’t want him to.
I’m all for this ride of a lifetime. Sexual bliss and heat, with passion mixed in, is exactly what I signed up for.
The way his dick feels has my orgasm approaching quickly. I try to stall it, not wanting this night to ever end.
Ryan leans in, claiming my lips once more as my body loses control. I can’t take it anymore, and I break the kiss, screaming his name in ecstasy.
A smile lifts his lips as he pushes even deeper. “Fuck, your little pussy is so wet for me.” He thrusts harder. “So tight. I like feeling you come all over me.”
I want to tell him things. Things no man probably wants to hear while just fucking a friend.
My post orgasmic bliss is ruptured when thoughts of what this was enter my brain at the same time Ryan loses control.
He moans my name, his hands rummaging through my hair, holding on for dear life as his body spasms. When his orgasm subsides, he kisses me, hard, and all of my thoughts melt away. Go with the flow. Don’t read too much into this. Wait for him to speak.
He climbs off me, kissing the tip of my nose, before rushing off to the bathroom down the hall. I sit up, pulling the white sheet further up my naked body.
Glancing around his room, I spot the old trophy he and I received in a talent show for an awful performance of The Backstreet Boys song, Everybody (Backstreets Back). I shake my head, laughing, as I make my way over to the wooden shelf where it sits. I trace my fingers over the plated gold bearing our names.
“I’m surprised they didn’t throw us out of the contest for how horrible we were,” Ryan says, standing at the doorway in a pair of boxer briefs, his finger running along his lower lip.
“Yeah, what were we thinking? I remember thinking how cool we were.”
He smiles. “Me too. Remember the move I kept begging to put in the routine, and you kept shooting me down?”
I remember the exact move. “No,” I shake my head, “show me.”
He moves further into the room an
d kicks his legs up in a wannabe Michael Jackson dance move mixed with a weird Sia contemporary move as he plays out the choreography.
“I think you’re onto something there. Maybe you can quit your father’s shop and tour the country as a backup dancer.”
He stops, arching a brow. “No, that’ll never happen.”
I shrug. “You never know.”
“I do. I’m destined to work for my father for the time being.” He takes two long strides and climbs back into bed. He pats beside him, and I hop in next to him.
“Why do you say that?” I lay my head on his chest, sharing the sheet with him.
“Say what? About my father?” He shrugs. “Just the way things worked out, I guess.”
I want to ask him about the war. I want to ask him why he has no desire to go back to school. But, my mouth remains shut.
We lay in silence, neither of us addressing what just happened between us. The big turning stone in our relation, I mean, friendship.
Like the constellation Andromeda, waiting for her hero, Perseus, to save her from the sea. Friends first, then lovers as they traveled back to her home.
Sure, maybe Ryan isn’t my Perseus, saving me from a life of not believing in love, but he is someone I would be willing to test the theory on.
I’ve never been in love before.
The only love I witnessed in my life was my parents. Followed by the misery, torture, and pain when it all fell apart. But, what about Ryan’s parents?
They love each other, and you can see it in the little things they do for one another. I haven’t seen them in years, but I remember the way her eyes lit up when Mr. Wagner walked into the room.
How he would kiss his wife behind the ear when he thought no one was watching.
Maybe they’re the exception, though, and not the rule.
I wake up in a flurry of madness. An alarm ringing, Ryan stirring, and already it’s going to be one of those days.
“Ryan, wake up. I must go. I’m going to be late for work.”
The man doesn’t budge. I thought military men were early risers.
Pursing my lips, I nudge his shoulder with my hand. “Ryan.” I spot my clothes and put them on as quickly as I can.
Taking one last view of sleepyhead Ryan, I rush out the door and hop into my car. I pull into my driveway, leaning my head on the steering wheel as the realization slams into me of what Ryan and I did last night.