Everything Unexpected

by Caroline Nolan

  The smashing of a glass behind us cuts the tension at the table, causing everyone to blink and fall back in their chairs, yet still no one has said anything. I take a quick glance in her direction, half expecting her to laugh off his words, but when her face fills my line of sight, she’s not laughing. Instead, her throat moves slowly as she swallows, her eyes are fixed ahead and away from me.

  It’s been said men think about sex every seven seconds or something like that. Although there’s no proof to this, as a man, I know we do think about it a lot. And a lot of my seconds I spend with Leah. So it’s only natural that thoughts of sex and of Leah have gotten intertwined a couple thousand times over the years. And why wouldn’t it? She’s smart, funny, fun and let’s not forget, one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever laid my eyes on. But we friend-zoned each other years ago, and I’ve long moved past thinking of her that way purposefully. Any sexual thoughts I’ve had since, if any, must be coincidence. I’m certain of it. Almost certain. Fairly certain. But watching her now, her struggle to look at me, has me wondering if she’s thought about it.

  “It would be like fucking my brother,” she finally says, her face molding back into her secure and confident expression.

  Well, that answers that.

  The table immediately erupts into laughter.

  “Thanks, Comb,” I say, forcing a laugh but trying hard to hide the insult I wasn’t expecting to feel. A brother? Really?

  Leah looks at me and smiles, but it looks strained, flustered even. The need to find out why is strong, but I’m unable to ask because she stands abruptly and holds her hand out to Holly.

  “Come on, I love this song!” she says, dragging Holly away from the table, nearly running to get away. My eyes follow them to the dance floor and watch as they start twirling in circles like all women do when they dance together.

  “Bullshit,” Bryan says when I turn back around.

  I look at him confused.

  “I call her bullshit,” he repeats. “She’s thought about it.”

  I roll my eyes. “You heard her. She hasn’t.”

  “Shane,” he leans in across the table, “did you not just see what happened? She was like a deer caught in the fucking headlights. Trust me. She’s thought of it. And we both know you think of it. I mean, Christ, I can’t blame you. Look at her.” He nods his chin in her direction.

  I look back and watch. I watch her hips sway, her breasts bounce, arms waving up in the air. Realization dawns on me then that I must still think about it, coincidence or not.

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  Bryan drinks in my sudden self-awareness. “Come on, how could you not? I myself have thought about it a few times. In the shower, over the breakfast—”

  “Fuck off,” my tone sharpening. “She’s off limits. And that includes your fucked up kinky daydreams.”

  “I know,” he laughs. “I’m just fucking with you. But come on, have you really never even tried?”

  I take a deep breath followed by a long drawn out sip of beer. “There was never a right time,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders.

  “What? You need roses and candles?”

  I shake my head. “It just never happened. She was with Trevor for years. And when she finally kicked him to the curb we were a long way past that road. No going back, you know?”

  Leah’s been in my life for over five years now. We have one of the best and closest relationships I’ve ever had. The night we met at the frat party and the days later are still as clear and vivid to this day. I remember finding her at the Starbucks Eddy mentioned having seen her studying a few times.

  “This doesn’t look like Central Perk,” I said, pulling up a chair and sitting across from her and her laptop.

  I’ll never forget the surprised smile she gave, looking up at me from her screen. It was the first time my heart lost its rhythm for someone.

  “You watched,” she said, leaning back in her chair.

  I tilted my head to the side, half smiling. “I YouTubed.”

  Her laugh was just as loud and full as I remembered.

  “And?” she asked.

  “It had its moments,” I answered.

  She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her mouth from smiling too wide. And again, it had the same effect on me then as it did at the party. Conversation between us started quick and swift, as if we had done so many times before. I remember how easy it was to make her laugh and how being taken aback I was for her love of swear words. I grew up in a world where having a trucker’s mouth was thought of as tasteless, but coming out of those pink lips, it was strangely endearing. We talked for over an hour before Trevor called her cell, letting her know he was on his way to pick her up. It was clear she was in a relationship and she wasn’t looking to stray. But I liked her, so if friendship was all that was on the table at that point, then why not? Who knew what could happen in the future?

  “You know she broke up with that asshole because of you,” Bryan says pointedly, interrupting my momentary trip down memory lane.

  “No she didn’t.”

  “Yes she fucking did. Maybe not to bone you, but everyone knew that douche didn’t like your,” he raises his hands and makes finger quotations, “‘friendship.’ She chose you.”

  I glance at her once more on the dance floor, wondering if that’s true, if she did in fact break up with Trevor because of me—for me—and what it meant if she did. I shake my head, needing to clear it of these thoughts.

  “Let’s get another drink,” I say, standing.

  “Don’t need to ask me twice,” Bryan responds, downing what’s left of his.

  AN HOUR LATER, I’m drunk. But so is everyone else. I down this last shot, knowing I shouldn’t have another. Bryan left me to talk to a pretty brunette over in the corner of the bar. The chair beside me scrapes across the floor and fills with my favorite person. The hair on the nape of her neck clings to her skin, damp with sweat. Her eyeliner has smeared just a touch from all her dancing, but also from all her laughter. She’s looks beautiful.

  “Thanks for tonight,” I tell her, resting my hand on her bare thigh. Without thinking, I begin to rub it up and down, all the way along her warm, soft as silk skin. Her eyes glimpse down to where my hand is grazing her thigh and it takes me a moment to notice what I’m doing before I remove my fingers slowly.

  “Any time,” she answers, her breath catching a little. “Well, any time a year from now.”

  I smile. “This was my first surprise party.”

  “Really?” she smiles, her eyes slightly glazed. “Well, everyone deserves a surprise party at least once in their lives.”

  “Have you ever had one?”

  She laughs. “Not yet.”

  “Perfect. I’ll throw you one.”

  She laughs louder. “It won’t be much of a surprise if you’re already telling me it’s coming!”

  I think about her words before I nod in agreement. “You’re right. It will have to be on a day not even close to your birthday.”

  She shakes her head, amused. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Always keeping me on my toes.”

  She leans in close, her forehead now resting against mine. I close my eyes and take in her familiar scent. The light mix of perfume and coconut from both her shampoo and her sunscreen. There’s also the slightest aroma of sweat from all her dancing. I’m not sure if it’s the booze or my earlier conversation with Bryan, but something inside me tightens, causing goosebumps to pin prick my skin. I look down to see if her skin is having the same reaction, but Leah leans back suddenly, her face falling away from mine. “I love this song! Dance with me?”

  She doesn’t even let me respond, pulling me from my chair and to the dance floor. I recognize the song, it plays on the radio often enough. It has an upbeat tempo, one Leah knows just how to dance to. I, on the other hand, am happy to just stand here and watch her. Once the chorus hits, Leah turns to me and starts singing the words while jumping up and down, her long golden h
air flying everywhere.

  I laugh and continue to watch her while I myself barely move. Her hands fall on my chest and she starts to sing along with the song. The words leaving her lips in loud screams. Something about “not daring to look back” and to “shut up and dance.”

  I cover her hands with mine, keeping them glued to my chest, not letting her move too far away, making it hard for her to continue jumping around. Without the ability to move, she stays in one place, swaying side to side and looking up at me. I try and read her thoughts, but for the first time in a long time, I have no idea what’s going on inside that head of hers.

  “Let’s get some fresh air,” I suggest, speaking into her ear.

  She looks back at me and nods, grabbing her bag from a nearby chair and turning, heading for the exit.

  As soon as we’re outside, the breeze from the ocean brushes against my skin. It feels refreshing and instantly sobers me up a little. I think it’s done the same for her. The sidewalk is busy with people leaving bars and clubs down the street, so I take her hand and cross over to the beach side.

  “You sure you had fun tonight?” she asks, leaning against the wooden fence that separates us from the sandy beach.

  “The best,” I tell her honestly.

  “Good.” She smiles.

  A silence comes over us. Usually, if there is quiet between us, it’s never uncomfortable or awkward. But right now, I feel a different kind of energy. I can’t tell if it’s coming from me, or her, or the both of us, but it’s new. I try and think of something to break the strange mood but her next words only intensify it.

  “Have you ever thought about it?” she whispers, glancing around as though she doesn’t want anyone else to hear.

  I’m pretty sure I know what she’s talking about but I don’t want to make an ass out of myself in case it’s not.

  I clear my throat. “Thought about what?”

  She turns and faces me, her smile turning devious, calculating. “What Bryan said.”

  Okay. So we are thinking about the same thing.

  “Have you?” my lips curl into a smirk.

  She slowly turns back towards the ocean, lacing her fingers together as she leans further against the fence. The wind blows her hair off her face and shoulders, exposing the skin it was just covering.

  I can tell that she won’t answer first, which is unlike her. She’s always quick to blurt out her opinions and answers. But then again, we’ve never had this kind of conversation before. I take my fingers, placing them under her chin and raising her face back up to mine. With as much honesty as I can sum up, I go first.

  “Yes. Obviously.”

  She blinks once then opens her mouth. I can see her tongue peeking through the small slit but she says nothing.

  We stare at each other, neither of us speaking. I have no idea what to do next. Should I push and ask her again if she has? Should I change the subject entirely? Have I completely made her feel uncomfortable now? My heart begins to beat a mile a minute but I haven’t moved an inch.

  “Do you—” I start.

  “Want to get out of here?” she interrupts, somehow completing the question I’m not even sure I was asking.

  I blink twice, unsure of what’s happening.

  Is she asking me to take her home or is she asking me to take her home? Her question is laced with different meanings and I have no clue how I should take it. Asking if I want to get out of here? What does that mean? How should I answer? Should I even consider saying yes if she’s asking what I think she is?

  Thoughts and arguments for and against build in my head. The first being that this is Leah and if anything happened that might ruin our friendship, I would without a doubt be devastated. But then I let my eyes skim across her body as I’ve done so many times over the years. The same body that had me feeling so many things with just the simplest of gestures. It most likely makes me the stereotypical male because it’s those thoughts that win out.

  I give her face another quick look, a chance to make her meaning clearer to me before I act.

  And then, she bites her lip.

  With that, I quickly turn and leave her at the fence, walking with determination to the side of the road to hail a cab. And by some miracle, one stops almost immediately. I turn back to find her right behind me. I grab her hand and nearly push her inside the car. I give the driver my address as the cab pulls away, leaving the bar, the party, and our friends behind.

  I keep my eyes on the road ahead of us, too nervous to look at Leah beside me. In my periphery, I can tell she’s doing the same. I wonder now that we are both in a cab headed for my place, if the reality of this situation will finally hit us. Maybe we’re drunker than we think and only now our minds will begin to clear and be rational. Maybe in another minute, Leah will burst out laughing at the absurdness of this all. Maybe I will.

  I take a breath and wait for that feeling to come. But it doesn’t. Five minutes into the ride, it still doesn’t. Instead, in those few minutes, I realize just how much I want this. My hard-on is screaming at me how much I want this. But only if she does. I finally turn to face her at the same time she turns to face me. I’m going to ask her, make sure she’s okay with everything that’s happening here. But the minute I open my lips to speak, they’re covered by hers.

  IT TAKES EXACTLY two seconds for me to get over the surprise of Leah’s lips on mine before I tune in and take control. One hand immediately finds itself lost in her long hair, my fingers wrapping around hundreds of honey strands. It keeps her close, not giving her any leverage to move away. On instinct, I run my tongue over her bottom lip, coaxing her into allowing me entry. Pure impulse leads me to resting my other hand along her side, my short nails digging into her ribs, my thumb brushing over the side of her breast. All things I’ve done hundreds of times before with other women, but this time feels so much different.

  She lets out a small, almost inaudible moan the minute our tongues meet. A sound I’m not unfamiliar with, but it’s like I’m hearing it for the first time. She sounds better than any fantasy I may have had over the last few years. Hearing it in a dream is nowhere near as good as hearing it in real life. I want—no, need—to hear it again. More than I need my next breath.

  She lets out another sweet moan, sounding almost exactly like she does when she takes her first bite of dessert. Like she’s been waiting the whole meal for it. It’s a great sound—no, a fantastic sound. But one that reminds me of who just made it—and why. That I just stuck my tongue down my best friend’s throat.

  I pull my lips away from Leah’s, even though it’s the last thing I want to do. I rest my head against hers, needing a second to regroup. Never before has a simple make out in the back of a cab caused me so much affliction. Half of me is screaming not to stop, that her body feels too good, her lips feeling even better against mine. But the other half, the annoying sensible half, won’t stop reminding me of whose body I’m touching and whose lips I’m now craving. I swallow hard, releasing a shaky breath before I look back up at her face. Her eyes are still closed, lips slightly swollen and wet. The lip gloss she wore a little smudged. I lick my lips, wanting to see if mine taste like her.

  When she opens her eyes, I prepare to see them filled with uncertainty and doubt—but I’m wrong. They’re filled with a look I’ve never seen come from her but one I know all too well.

  Lust.

  “Shane,” her voice is soft and breathy. Her eyes scan my face, trying to understand my hesitation, the reason I pulled away. The reason that doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Any question or concern I had was answered the second she opened her eyes and looked at me. And she continues to answer me in the way she pants quietly, the rising of her chest in quick successions.

  She wants this just like I do.

  I pull her face back towards mine and kiss her again. I’m not shy about it this time either. I pry her lips open with my tongue, sweeping it across hers. Her breath is hot, smells and tastes faintly of citrus. She teases m
y tongue by sucking on it just like she did those lemons after the tequila shots. My mind reels, remembering it was just an hour ago we sat around that table, speechless at the mention of hooking up. Now look at us. Like animals in heat, attacking each other’s mouths with our teeth, tongues and lips.

  “No boom-boom in the cab,” an accented voice speaks up.

  We both freeze, startled by the interruption. Our attention shifts to the driver, who is staring at us through the rearview mirror, eyes wide and annoyed. I want to tell him this is Miami and worse things than kissing have probably gone on in the back of this cab. But I don’t want to embarrass Leah or bring attention to the fact I personally know just how much can be done in the back of a cab.

  I release my hand from around her head, pulling away from her side. I lean back against the seat and take a breath, fisting my hands at my sides. From the corner of my eye I notice Leah does the same. I watch her as she leans against the sticky leather of the back seat and crosses her legs, pressing them together. My eyes become glued to her thighs. One long, tanned leg draped across the other. Her skirt shifts higher and I know if I were to move my head just slightly forward, I’d be able to see the color of her panties. The thought drives me crazy. I need to know. I pray for this cab to move faster so I can take her to my bedroom and find out.

  Leah opens her window, letting the breeze come through. It blows her hair in my direction and I can smell her shampoo once again. I close my eyes and count to ten, knowing if I keep letting all my senses get wrapped up in her right now, I won’t last two minutes once we get inside my loft.

  The cab finally pulls up in front of my building. I don’t even look at the counter, pulling two twenties from my pocket and shoving them in the driver’s hand. I open the door and watch Leah slide over the seat before taking my hand and getting out of the cab, slamming the door behind her.