by D. Kelly
“You sleep fine here.”
“That’s because you’re here. I always sleep better where you are.”
I lift her off the counter and hand her the water. “Go sleep. When you wake up, I’ll bring your suitcase in for you. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll head out. No rush.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m really glad to be home, Tris.”
And before I can return the sentiment, she’s gone.
“Why did you let me sleep so long? It’s almost dark!”
We’re in the car on the way to the beach, and Bex is still mad. I reach for her hand and pull it to my lips for a kiss.
“Relax. The beach is better at night, anyway. We can eat under the stars. I brought some lanterns, or we can build a fire.”
“I feel bad. You took the day off and everything.” She crosses her arms over her chest and slumps down into the seat.
“Yup, and I caught up on all of my geeky superhero shows that were clogging the DVR. It was great. I haven’t had a day to be a couch potato in I don’t know how long. It was a win for us both; you got some much-needed rest, and I got to get my geek on.”
Bexley giggles and laces her fingers in mine. “Well, I do know how much you love letting your inner geek out. Plus, you’re right—the beach is gorgeous at night.”
We find a strip of beach that doesn’t have any people right now and set up our stuff. We manage to catch the tail end of the sunset.
She turns toward me, wearing a beautiful smile. “Watching the sun go down will never get old.”
“Neither will eating dinner under the stars with you.”
“Damn, Tris, are your lines this smooth for all your dates?”
“Uh, no, actually. Huh.” They’re really not. I’m not a perfunctory boyfriend by any means, but the way I am with Bex is all because of who she is and who we’ve always been together.
“What does the ‘huh’ mean?”
We settle onto the blanket, sitting across from each other. “I think I’m different with you. What do you think?”
She crinkles her nose disdainfully. Maybe that’s not a fair question to ask, but she brought the subject up. “Well, I always thought you seemed like a great boyfriend, but I also never really stuck around when you had girls over. I’ll just have to take your word for it that it’s different with me.”
I open the picnic basket and pull out the wine.
“Score one for you.”
“Just wait; there’s more.” After pouring us each a glass, I tug the blanket between us until I’ve pulled her closer and our knees are touching. “I thought about that the other day. I’m not sure how I never realized whenever I had a girl around you would make yourself scarce.”
She lowers her eyes. “It was no big deal.”
“Why did you do it?”
Bex sighs. “If you would have asked me this back then, I would have said to give you privacy. But now, I think maybe I knew if I stayed, it would be too hard to witness. Which is stupid because I had no reason to be jealous. But the other night . . .”
Our eyes lock. I’ve been dying to know what sparked her into action. “What about the other night?”
“The pizza girl. I’d had those drinks, and she was talking about how you never called her again, and I was jealous, Tris. For no reason. I don’t get to be jealous of your past, and it’s not like I haven’t had my share of one-night stands.”
She finishes her wine and holds out her cup for more. Once I’ve filled it for her, I pull out some grapes and then give her a confession of my own. “I hate every guy you go out with except the one-night stands. Those guys fulfill a need for you that I understand, and I know you won’t ever see them again. But the guys you date—I think deep down I’ve been scared that each one will be your guy.”
“Why does that scare you?” She leans closer as if she’s afraid to miss a word.
“Because I think your guy is supposed to be me.”
She sticks her cup in the sand, and straddles my lap. Cupping my cheeks in her hands, she kisses me reverently. “I’m pretty sure he’s supposed to be you too.”
As quickly as she crawled into my lap, she tries to move off, but instead, I open my legs, and she sits between them as we both face the ocean.
“Tris, do you think we’re making a mistake?”
“No.”
“What if it doesn’t work between us?”
The apricot and cream scent of her mingles with the ocean, and I don’t ever want to imagine a time when this isn’t my favorite scent. “Then we meet at Rudy’s every Saturday without fail until we hash things out, right the wrongs, and recover our friendship.”
“Because there isn’t anything between us that can’t be said over chocolate chip pancakes,” she murmurs, and I kiss the top of her head.
“Exactly. Now tell me, have you thought about our next two dates?”
“I have, and tomorrow night is as much for me as it is for you. I want another boyfriend experience, so I got us tickets to Knott’s Scary Farm.”
“Seriously? It’s Halloween; that’s the best night to go! We’re going to have a blast.”
She snorts. “We’ll see. I’m still not hip to being scared to death, which is why it needs to be a boyfriend experience. You need to hold me and save me. Or at the very least, wipe away my tears and not laugh at me when I pee my pants.”
“How about I do all of the above?”
“Deal.” She grabs the extra blanket from under the lantern and wraps it around us.
“If we make it to date five?”
“What do you mean if?” She looks over her shoulder at me.
“Assuming I don’t commit an unforgivable sin at the amusement park tomorrow night. Is that better?”
“Slightly, but date five is sort of my revenge. We’re having dinner and family game night with my parents.”
“Okay.” I look toward the picnic basket and feel my stomach grumble. I can’t be the only one famished. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving, but really … you don’t mind a date at my parents’ house?”
I scoot back so I can make us each a plate without making Bex move and lose the warmth of the blanket. “They’re your family. Of course I don’t mind.”
She nods thoughtfully but doesn’t say a word. I’d give anything to know what was going on in her head tonight.
“This is amazing—all my favorites. Thank you.” Bexley gifts me one of her sweetest smiles as she takes her plate, and I can’t help but wonder what she’ll gift me when she sees dessert.
While we eat our dinner under the stars, she fills me in on her time away. Meetings, room service, repeat, and then she drops the bomb.
“We have a new guy who was at the conference too. He’s being transferred from the Atlanta office. A group of us got together for drinks after the last day of meetings. The two of us were the last two left at the bar, and he asked me out on a date.”
It stings she didn’t tell me about this earlier, but Bex is a gorgeous woman; she’s going to get hit on for the rest of her life.
“What did you say?”
A hurtful expression flickers across her face. “That I was seeing someone.”
“Good.”
“There’s a catch, though, Tris. Before the conference, my boss asked me if I would take the new hire out, show him the town, and introduce him to the area. I wanted to make a good impression, so of course I said yes. I can’t take it back now; I have to spend two nights this week showing Finn around.”
What can I say? This is her job, and it’s not like I can tell her no. She’s been working hard for a promotion, and I know she deserves it. I don’t want to be a dick—I’m not that guy—but knowing he asked her out fucking sucks. That means he’s attracted to her, so he’s likely to try to wiggle his way into her life, boyfriend or not. And that’s it in a nutshell; I’m not her boyfriend. Right now, I’m nothing more than her third date.
“Talk to
me, Tris, please.”
“You’re still planning on finishing our dates, right?”
She scoots closer. “Are you kidding? You have no idea how excited I am about our upcoming dates and the future beyond.”
Okay, I can handle this. He’s probably just some young guy, a recent college graduate, and I’ve got nothing to worry about. “Speaking of excited, I brought you something else. Close your eyes.”
Bex eagerly complies, and I pull one of the cupcakes from the basket. “Keep them closed.” I run my finger through the frosting and paint her lips with it. “You can lick your lips now.”
Her tongue darts out and slowly tastes the flavor on her lips. She hums in appreciation but keeps her eyes shut. “You bought my favorite cupcakes.”
“I did.”
“Tris, cover your lips in frosting, put the cupcake back, and come let me devour you under the stars.”
She lies down with her hands behind her head, and her eyes remain closed. My dick twitches at the sight of her, and I do as she requested. I position myself between her legs and lower my mouth to hers. Our lips touch and her tongue darts out, eagerly licking the flavor from my lips.
My hips reflexively move, bringing us closer together in the best possible place. As we kiss, she keeps her hands up behind her head, and I catch her petite wrists in my hand and pin her down.
“Shit, Tris, tighter, please.”
As I squeeze them tighter, I lower my mouth to her nipples and bite them through her shirt. She cries out, and I take a quick glance around, but we’re still the only ones on the beach. The waves crashing against the shore are almost enough to mute her cries — no one needs to hear her desire but me.
She writhes against my body each time I bite, kiss, suck, or squeeze. If she keeps this up, I’m going to come. “Tristan, I need you.”
“I’m right here, angel.”
“Please, I need to hear you call my name. I want you to, I want us both to . . .”
Fuck me, I want it too.
I sit up and pull her into my lap so she can position herself in the way that feels best. “Put your hands behind your back, Bex.”
Her breathing intensifies, and I hold her wrists again. “Work for it, angel. Make yourself feel good and take me with you.”
With wide eyes, she nods and leans forward, catching my bottom lip in her teeth. Her hips begin to cant slowly, and she teases me by dipping her tongue into my mouth at the same slow pace.
She started this, but the sad fact is I want her too much to last for long. I’ve got one free hand, and I use it to wrap her hair around my wrist. Her hips begin to move quicker, and her kiss becomes frantic, practically desperate. “Tighter,” she cries out, and I yank her hair hard enough to loosen our kiss and expose her neck. “Tristan!” she screams when I bite her sensitive skin.
I got caught up in the moment and bit her pretty hard. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
“I fucking hope so,” she pants as she rides my dick through my clothes. “I want you, Tris, no barriers, skin on skin. Make me yours, Tristan . . . for—God, yes!” Her body thrashes against mine again and again as she comes.
“Bexley!” I call out her name, and she pushes against me harder as my cock pulses with my orgasm.
I want this for the rest of my life. There’s no going back—not anymore.
I release her hands and her hair and wrap my arms around her. With careful precision, I lay us down on our sides, still entwined with each other. We share kiss after promise-filled kiss under the stars, and I fall deeper in love with my best friend.
I didn’t stop smiling the entire way home. Tristan was a true gentleman and let me have the first shower. I tried to convince him we should take one together, but he insisted that was a committed relationship move.
I’m ready to throw this dating bullshit out the window. It feels like a ridiculous thing for us to be doing at this point. Tristan and I have basically been dating for the last ten years. We’re like two kids who just discovered sex. When he came beneath me tonight, I almost slipped and told him I wanted him forever. I do, but it’s way too soon for him to know that. I don’t want to send the guy running for the hills. Not when I’ve finally found the one.
I exhale slowly as I brush my hair. He’s my one. I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Maybe subconsciously I knew it the day I told him we should be friends. No one makes me laugh like Tris, and no one has ever made me feel as safe as I feel when I’m with him. He knows I’m looking for love and that I want kids in a few years. The fact that he still wants to date me, knowing all that, gives me hope.
While he’s in the shower, I’m going to get down the good and bad things from the date like he asked.
In the good column tonight:
Took me to my favorite place
Bought all of my favorite foods
Called me Angel multiple times—I think I like this nickname
Got rough with me in all the best ways. He even marked my skin, and God help me, I wish he’d done more of it
Let me ride him till we both came. This is the highlight of my year so far. Having Tristan pulse beneath me as my name fell from his lips was the greatest sexual experience of my life to date.
Now onto the bad . . .
The look on Tristan’s face when I told him Finn asked me out and that I was the one who would be showing him around town was heartbreaking. Tristan, I don’t know if you’re actually going to read this, but I promise you, nothing will happen. I am utterly and hopelessly in love with my best friend. That’s you, in case you were wondering.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door, and I quickly close my journal and toss it aside to let him in.
“Hey.” Tristan’s got a shy smile, and his dimple is on full display. I wish I could lick it without seeming creepy.
“Hey, yourself.”
“So, tonight I came in my pants in front of a girl I’m dating. It was pretty hot but also extremely embarrassing. Do you think she’ll keep our next date? Or should I get used to self-fulfillment again?”
I pull him into my room and motion for him to sit on the bed with me. It’s easier to kiss him when we’re eye level.
With our lips a whisper from each other, I give him my honest answer. “That’s funny. I went on a date tonight, and I came in my pants too. It was by far the greatest sexual high I’ve ever had. He left bruises on my skin, and I wish he’d given me more. I want to be his, but I’m not sure he feels the same. Do you think I’ve scared him away?”
“Fuck no,” he growls and pulls my hair back, taking a long look at the base of my neck. “Damn, that’s incredibly hot.” He bites me again, and this time sucks my skin into his mouth relentlessly. Thankfully, it’s low enough no one at work will see it, but whenever I shower or change my clothes, I’ll see it and think of him.
“Tristan . . .”
“Yes, angel?” He kisses a path to my lips and waits patiently for my reply.
“I’d never cancel a date with you. Not ever.”
Our lips meet again, and this time, our kiss is slow and sweet. He takes his time exploring my mouth and my lips, all while continuing to steal my heart. When he stands, I want to beg him to stay, but I don’t. It’s not our time. Not yet.
“Good night, Bexley.” He kisses my lips one last time.
“Good night, Tristan. Sweet dreams.”
“That was ridiculous! I’m never going to be able to sleep again. How do you love this so much?”
We’re driving home after our night at the amusement park. I’ve never liked being scared, and I just endured seven hours of constant fear. It was also seven hours of being tucked into Tristan’s arms as if I was his prized possession, and that’s something I could get used to. In fact, it made the entire night worth it.
“It was incredible. Thank you for taking me. It wouldn’t have been nearly as fun without you. Having you in my arms all night was much better than going with Adam and pla
ying wingman as he trolled for chicks desperate for help.”
“That’s so . . . Adam.” I’m laughing; I can’t help it.
“Yup, he’s one of a kind, but maybe he’s changing. I think he’s into Rita.”
I lean back in my seat with a yawn as I flip on the seat warmer. “I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. We should have hooked them up ages ago.”
“We should have hooked ourselves up ages ago,” he adds wistfully.
“Maybe, or maybe this was the perfect time for it to happen.”
I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know, Tristan is carrying me to the door. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
He smiles down at me. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s sweet, but you’re going to have to put me down so you can open the door.”
“I would have figured it out,” he mumbles as he sets me down. A cat screeches from the bushes, and I jump about ten feet off the ground. Okay maybe three, but after monsters, zombies, and vampires chasing me all night, it’s to be expected.
He reaches for my hand and pulls me close. “Relax, Bex. We’re home, and you’re safe.”
The apartment is dark, and I cling to him. He chuckles but doesn’t complain. When the lights go on, I breathe a sigh of relief, but I know I’m not going to sleep tonight. This calls for desperate measures.
“Tristan, I need a favor. I know things have changed, and it might not be as easy as it used to be, but, um, could you, maybe … you know … sleep with me tonight?”
His raised brow makes me realize how that sounds.
“As friends, in our clothes, like old times. But not like old times because it won’t be as easy but—” I blow out a frustrated breath. “Please?”
“I’d be happy to sleep with you and hold you all night, but for the record, Bex, it was never easy.”
Well, how about that?
“Thank you.”
Tristan kisses my cheek. “Anytime. Go get changed, and I’ll meet you in your room. No skimpy lingerie or I’m not going to be able to do it.”
“Got it. Skimpy lingerie is at least a seventh-date accessory.”