by Staci Hart
I was shocked silent for a beat. Maybe I was in the Twilight Zone, or it was a dream, and I was about to find myself buck naked. I looked down. Nope, still clothed. I met her eyes. “Thank you.”
Nadia smirked. “I’m glad your friend decked him for nailing the slag at the club.”
I chuckled. “Me too.”
She glanced over at him. “I can’t believe I wasted years with that asshole. What was I thinking?”
“Dat ass.”
She laughed. “Right. Dat ass.”
West
“God, this is so good, West.” Lily took another bite of her dinner, and I smiled. She looked so beautiful — blond hair loose, black dress, eyes bright, heart full. The restaurant was busy but quiet enough, dimly lit. We sat at a table for two near a window that overlooked the street.
“I heard about this place and had to bring you. I figured you’d appreciate some clean, vegan food after the last week.”
“Seriously. Thank you for not taking me somewhere that would tempt me to eat like absolute shit.” She took another bite and moaned. “This is amazing. Want a bite?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to offer.” I reached across the small table for her plate, and she reached for mine.
The tip of her tongue slipped from between her lips as she dug into my food. “I’ve got to try this creamed corn.”
I scooped up a bite of her spinach and almonds. “Go for it.”
We brought our forks to our lips and made appreciative noises. Lily pointed with her fork to my plate. “I don’t know what they creamed that with, but I accept it fully and completely. Goddamn, that’s good.”
“So many dirty jokes.”
“There aren’t many instances in which ‘creamed’ is used that don’t sound dirty.”
“Or moist. Even when it’s about cake.”
Lily laughed.
I scooped up a bite of sweet potatoes. “How was your day?”
“Forever long, waiting for tonight.”
“Same. Did Blane lay off?”
Her face lit up, and she put down her fork, the indication that a story was coming. “Oh, my God, West.” She leaned on the table, her face animated. “So I walk into rehearsal this morning and find Blane duct taped to the barre in the empty studio with a horrible word scribbled across his chest in lipstick.”
A satisfied laugh shot out of me. “Oh, man. Tell me somebody got a picture of that they’ll send to me.”
She giggled. “I think Jenni might have gotten one. The best part is that Nadia set him up.”
I found myself gaping. “Really?”
Lily nodded. “Leave it to Nadia to make public humiliation a blood sport. Ward was pissed. Honestly, I think the whole thing is over. Nadia and I sort of … I don’t know. Made up? I think she’s done with Blane for good, and Ward threatened our jobs if we didn’t keep it out of the studio.”
I shook my head as I piled a bite of baked beans and cornbread onto my fork. “He deserved all of that and then some.” I took a bite and sighed, taking a sip of my drink once I’d swallowed. I watched her across the table, her wide eyes bright, my gaze following the curve of her lips as she smiled. “I’m sorry that he hurt you. I don’t know how he could have done what he did.”
“It wasn’t only me he hurt. And plus, if it weren’t for him, you and I might never have figured this out.”
I smiled back and reached for her hand, winding my fingers through hers. “You know, when I realized how I felt about you, I imagined this. The little things. Holding your hand.” I shifted my thumb on her knuckles. “Kissing you. You looking at me like you are right now. Part of me was afraid that it wouldn’t be what I imagined. But instead, I’m … well, this all just feels right. Like a natural progression, the evolution.”
“I know what you mean. It’s easier than I thought it would be. I think I’ve been suppressing my feelings for you for a long time, and now it’s like a deluge.”
“I think I’ve been doing the same. Must be, since everyone else in our lives knew before we did. I just didn’t think you could want me. That if you could, you already would.”
She shrugged and took a drink. “I think we just kicked it off in one direction and stuck to it. You were with Shannon, and to me, that meant off limits. And I was with the ballet. It’s been my lover for years. I didn’t have time for a relationship, and I didn’t have time to meet people. So I found guys who I could just date without strings and at my convenience and let that be what it was.”
“I get it.”
“And when it came to my feelings for you, I guess I just figured you weren’t interested. You were just my super-hot best friend who lived down the hall and didn’t flinch when you saw me without makeup or puking. Or ugly crying to movies I love.”
“True. The first time we watched The Notebook was a real testament to my commitment.”
She made a face. “It’s not my fault that Nicholas Sparks is an emotionally manipulative bastard who makes me feel things. And anyway, you handled it like a pro.” I chuckled, and she smiled. “Still, you know what I mean. I think I thought you thought of me as a sister. Like, there’s no coming back from that level of platonic love.”
I sighed, smiling. “I never once thought of you like a sister. I thought you were out of my league.”
Her face screwed up. “What?”
“I mean, look at you. You’re beautiful and smart, the most driven woman I’ve ever met. You’re a professional dancer in one of the most competitive, talented companies of dancers in the world. I’m an English major.”
“At Columbia, dear sir. Not something to make light of.” She shook her head and squeezed my hand. “This blows my mind because I thought you were out of my league.”
I was stunned. “How can you even say that?”
She looked around, baffled. “I don’t get it. Almost everywhere we go, girls practically throw their panties at you. Did you even see our waitress? I’m pretty sure I heard her girl parts squeal when she walked up to the table.”
I laughed again. “Didn’t notice. I was too busy looking at you, I guess.”
Lily let go of my hand to pick up her fork, spearing some spinach. She brought it almost to her lips. “Well, she was.” The fork disappeared into her mouth, slipping out from between her lips empty.
“You’re one to talk about being hot, Lily. If I hadn’t had my hands up your skirt last night, I’d swear your legs never ended.”
She laughed, the sound awkward because her mouth was full. She swallowed. “I don’t think the length of my legs is equivalent to your pheromones. Pretty sure they have a twelve-foot radius.” She pushed her plate away. “I’m super full.”
“More spinach for me.” My fork wandered over to her plate.
Lily watched me, amused. “Look at you, sacrificing a steak dinner for greens and legumes.”
“Baby, I’ll eat Brussels sprouts for you.”
She chuckled. “That’s true love, right there.”
Lily
The cab was warm and comfortable, and I sighed against West’s chest. He was wearing that gorgeous suit of his, and all night long he’d made me laugh, made me swoon, made me want him. The night had been the magic I’d been looking for with Blane but never found, and I didn’t even have to try.
Forget self-made magic. West was fairy dust.
We were quiet, content in the silence, anticipating what would come when we stepped out of the cab and into our building. We knew each other so well that there was no grace period before we’d move forward. The step into being together had been easy, something I hadn’t known I’d wanted all along.
Everything was new — every touch, every word and smile. But West was just as familiar to me as he ever was.
The cab pulled to a stop in front of our building, and West paid the driver before climbing out, extending a hand once he was on the curb. I took it, and he hauled me out gently.
We hadn’t spoken in some time, both of us nervous and excited, I t
hink. It had been easier to fall into each other the night before when there weren’t any expectations, but tonight we’d both been thinking about it through the entire date. Or at least I had been. I’d been thinking about it ever since he’d left me with the ladyboner of my life on my couch. Luckily, Phil and I had a long-standing arrangement.
I wondered what West did with his boner and pictured the photo he sent me. I smiled to myself.
“What’s funny?” he asked as we approached his door.
“Oh, nothing.” I waited next to him as he unlocked it. “Is Patrick home?”
West smiled over at me and pushed open the door. “Gone for the night.”
“That is very convenient.” I walked into the dark apartment and kicked off my heels, and he closed the door behind us, cutting off the only sliver of light besides the soft moonlight that streamed in through the windows.
And then West was behind me, hands on my hips, breath in my ear. I leaned back into him, trembling. “I’ve been thinking about this moment since I left you last night.”
I struggled to find my voice and took a breath. “Now you have me. What are you going to do with me?”
“Oh, I can think of a thing or two.” He turned me around in the dark and found my lips without missing. I breathed him, tasted him, that soft smell of crisp spice in my nose as I sucked in a breath, lips moving against his.
He broke away, and I almost fell into him. “Come with me.”
“Anywhere.”
He towed me toward his room, though I couldn’t see anything in the dark, not until we reached his door and he pushed it open. I drew in a breath.
The lights I’d used on the tree at Habits were stretched across his ceiling, the tiny stars hanging at varying heights, spinning and waving slowly, twinkling at me. The room was bathed in golden light, and I looked around in wonder until I saw my sonnet hanging in a frame next to his bed.
“Last night, I wanted the moment to stretch on forever. I could have stayed right there with you for all my life.”
I turned to face him, overcome. “I love it.” I breathed.
His face bent with emotion. “I love you.”
I cupped his cheek, smiling as he laid his hand over mine.
“Those words mean so much to me, from our friendship to what we are now and through whatever comes next. I want to share my life with you.” He dropped his forehead to mine, wrapped me in his arms with his hands on my back, pulling my body into his. “I know it’s crazy to say, but it’s how I feel. Like everything in my life has led to this.”
“It’s not crazy, West. I’ve always loved you, from the first time I ever laid eyes on you. I wish we hadn’t waited so long. I wish I’d always been with you. But now …” My heart ached as I took a breath. “Now I can love you even more. Now I can give my love to you. Now I’m yours, and you’re mine, and I feel like I’m whole. I didn’t even know I was broken.”
“I want you, Lily. Stay with me.”
“Nothing could keep me away,” I whispered.
A ghost of a smile passed his lips before he pressed them to mine with the relief of decision, the promises in our hearts speaking through fingertips and soft lips. The moment stretched on until I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he stood straight, lifting me off the ground, arms around my waist as he carried me to his bed.
West laid me down, the room soft golds and deep browns, only parts of his face visible as he hovered over me — the bridge of his nose, the line of his cheekbone, the curve of his lip. We lay there for a moment, just watching each other, and I committed every detail to memory. The dark strand of hair on his forehead. The bend of his neck. The one corner of his lips that sat just a little higher than the other, bent in the smallest smile.
I held my breath as his fingers trailed my jaw, traced my lips before he leaned in to take them with his own.
The kiss was slow, lips demanding without any need for force, a kiss that burned hotter with every second as he pressed his body into mine. My blind hands slipped inside his jacket, and he sat up to remove it completely, tossing into his desk chair. I sat with him, reaching for the knot in his tie, tugging at the silk as he unbuttoned his vest. He brought his lips to mine as I slid the tie out of his collar and started on his buttons.
I broke away. “Too many clothes.”
He smiled and whispered, “So many,” before taking my mouth again, pressing me back into the bed so he could kick off his shoes, still shedding clothes until his chest was bare and heaving.
I laid a palm against his hot skin, and he pulled away, lips parted and lids heavy. He slipped his hands under my back and sat once more, bringing me with him, and I wrapped my body around his, squeezing tight until the skin of my upper thighs was flush against his abs. I needed to get close, wanted his skin against mine. His hand ran up my back to the zipper of my dress that he tugged until it stopped. His eyes followed his fingers as he ran them over my shoulders, my heart pounding as he slid the straps until they hung loose against my arms. The neck of my dress drooped, leaving part of my nipple exposed, and I watched him watch me for a long, reverent moment.
I rose up to my knees, and he slipped his hands up my thighs and higher, pushing my dress up as he went, sucking in a breath when he reached my bare ass. Higher he went, up my hips and waist, up my ribs where he took a moment to trace the vines of my tattoo, and I raised my arms as he pulled it off completely. Everything about his hands, his eyes, spoke of ownership as he touched me, laid his hand on the flat of my stomach and trailed it down. He was so beautiful in the golden light, and when I moved his hair from his face he looked up at me. The connection was so deep, so real that it was tangible.
He reached for me, slipping a hand in my hair to pull me down to him, kissing me again as I pressed my body against his chest. I wanted skin. I wanted him.
I leaned forward to lay us down, hands trailing down his body to his belt that I tugged open, button that I unfastened, our lips never parting, not until I slipped my hands into his pants and found the length of him, hot and hard. I trailed my fingertips up, circled his crown and trailed them down once more, slipping my fingers lower when I reached his base.
He twisted, rolling us over, kicking off his pants, and I leaned back as our legs wound together so I could look at his long body. I watched him as his soft fingertips roamed my skin — the bend of my waist, the curve of my breast, my nipple that peaked under his touch. He leaned in, and I watched him circle my nipple once more before he closed his mouth over it, his lips against my skin hot and wet.
But his hands didn’t stop. They trailed up my thigh until he reached the top and slipped a gentle finger inside, squeezing his palm against the bundle of nerves. My body squeezed him back, and I panted as he rolled his tongue in time with his finger inside of me, grazing me with his teeth before he broke away to lick a trail down my stomach. My hips were still grinding against his hand when he lay between my legs to hook my thighs over his shoulders.
His hands held the curve of my waist, pulling me down to him. I could feel his breath against me, and my body ached, needing him.
I slipped my fingers into his hair as he spread me open with his fingers and ran the flat of his tongue up the length of me, closing his lips over my bud when he reached the top. He sucked hard enough to make my thighs tremble, and he moaned gently, sending a rumble straight to my core. My fingers twisted in his hair. He sucked again. My heels dug into his back. He sucked again.
“Yes,” I whispered, tightening my grip as he tightened his, the seam where his lips met my body a hard line. I watched him, too close to close my eyes — if I closed my eyes, it would be over, and I wasn’t ready for it to end.
I touched his face, urging him to come to me, and his eyes fluttered open. He knew what I wanted and let me go before climbing up to meet me, lying on his side. Our legs tangled together, hearts banging as I rolled my hips against his thigh between my legs, and I kissed him with all the urgency that he gave to me.
He b
roke away, rolling me onto my back to reach over me for his nightstand, coming back with a condom.
I covered his hand with mine and shook my head. “It’s safe. I trust you.”
He smoothed my hair. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” I leaned into him, lips meeting his again. In that moment, my entire world was built around those lips.
The weight of his body was heavy against mine, my heart pounding as he pulled away and looked into my eyes. When he shifted to press his crown against me, I couldn’t breathe. And when he flexed his hips and slipped inside of me, I was his.
Neither of us moved, not until he took a shuddering breath and pulled out, flexing again to fill me to the hilt. His lips brushed against mine.
“This,” he whispered. “God, Lily.” He brought my thigh up, pressed my calf against his ribs as he pulled out slow and went deeper, rolling his hips when he hit the end. “This.”
I couldn’t speak as he slammed into me again, then again, lids fluttering closed as our bodies met and parted. Every motion bringing me closer, breath shallow, pulse racing until I gasped, back snapping off the bed. A cry passed my lips as my body clenched around him, squeezed for a long moment and released in a pulse to the beat of my heart.
West was right behind me, and I opened my eyes when he slammed into me once and held me still for a breath, twice and his brow bent, and the third time, he came with a gasp and my name on his lips.
I was surrounded by him as he rocked into me slower and slower, his fingers in my hair, his eyes on my face like he was seeing me for the first time.
I smoothed back his hair, trailed my fingers through his beard, and he laid a kiss on my lips. I couldn’t speak. No words could find me, not when he rolled over, taking me with him, and my hair fell all around us like a golden curtain. Not when we parted — the longing for him instant. Not as I stood in front of his bathroom mirror and saw myself, pink cheeks and messy hair, looking alive.
I crawled back in bed with him where he lay under the covers, slipped in close to feel the length of his body against mine as he wrapped me in his arms. Our heads were on the pillow — mine tucked under his chin as his fingers dragged up my back and down again. I listened to the steady rhythm of his breath, chest rising and falling against me, the thump of his heart against my palm, drumming to the beat of my own as we drifted off to sleep.