Girl Crush

by Stephie Walls

  He started to undress when we reached our bedroom, and I had a hard time telling him no when he was naked. I wasn’t sure if he was aware of that fact, but based on how the discussion continued, I think he planned to use his sex appeal to his advantage.

  I toed off my shoes and watched him shed his clothing. My mouth watered as he bared more skin. He smirked when he caught me staring, and I wiped a bit of drool from the side of my lips. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “All’s fair in love and war, babe.” And with those words, the last bit of fabric fell to the floor.

  That one word.

  Babe.

  It rolled from his lips straight to my heart. I’d give him the world if he asked for it.

  He came to me, and as he talked, he stripped me bare. “I know you love this house, but I want us to have something that we picked out together.” My shirt joined his on the floor. “Something that will grow with us.” He pushed my shorts and panties past my hips, and they landed at my ankles. “Where our lives are joined.” A flick of his wrist unsnapped my bra, and I dropped my hands, ridding myself of the confining material. “Mine and yours.” The warmth of his tongue tickled my skin when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against my neck. “Legally binding.”

  “It could take months to find another house I love as much as I do this one.” The words were spoken against his chest, and I wondered if he could even hear them they were so soft.

  “Please?” he begged and slipped his hands between my thighs.

  “Collier…” I moaned his name as he sank two fingers into my heat.

  He played dirty. West was a man used to getting his way. He teased my clit with his thumb and stroked my insides, bringing me to life like a key turned in an ignition. The guy knew just what to do to get me to concede. Since the first night we’d bumped uglies, he’d used my sexual drive to steer me in the direction he wanted to go.

  “Giselle,” he responded as though he didn’t know my plea had been for him to take me higher.

  Two could play at this game. “Can I drive your car?”

  His other hand kneaded my ass, and I felt his excitement growing against my hip. “Would that get you to buy a house with me?” The warmth of his breath against my ear sent a chill up my spine.

  “Maybe.” We were nowhere near an agreement.

  “What will it take to get you to consider it?”

  I threaded my fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head, and he rolled his hips and erection against me. Peppering kisses against my neck, he continued to work his way down my body. Twisting his wrist and the fingers deep inside me, I almost gave in.

  “The keys.”

  Suddenly, his hand was no longer between my legs, and his lips weren’t on my skin. In one swift movement, he hoisted me, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. He moved to press me against the wall, the head of his junk waiting at the entrance to my love tunnel. I tried to shift and sink his raging stick into my holiest of holy places, but he refused my advances. My sexual frustration mounted while he toyed with me.

  “How about I buy you your own?” His length slipped between my lady lips and glided smoothly with my excitement.

  “I want to drive yours.” I forced him to kiss me, unwilling to continue with the topic at hand until he slapped my bread with his salami. Our chests heaved, and both of us struggled to catch our breath, but neither relented to the other.

  Finally, I transferred my weight in his arms enough that he had to shift his position to keep from falling, and in that save, he lost the battle. His swollen schlong dipped into the pool, and he refused to come up for air at that point. West fucked me against the wall, hopelessly lost in the ecstasy that existed anytime he was inside me. I bit his shoulder, desperate for release, but West held out knowing I’d cave to reach that illustrious O.

  “Tell me what I want to hear, babe.” He panted against my mouth between kisses.

  “I love you.” It was a nice sentiment, but not what he was getting at.

  “What else?” His thrusts slowed as he pulled me away from the peak.

  I tried to control the pace, but the position he had me in made it impossible. “You’re an amazing lover.” Flattery usually got me anything I wanted…except the car keys.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Collier, please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Don’t torture me.”

  “What do you need, babe?”

  “You.”

  “Tell me what I want to hear.”

  “Blackmail.”

  “Are you in a position to bargain?” He had me and knew it. I craved this with him, and nothing short of an earthquake would pull me away.

  My forehead dropped to the crook of his neck, and I shook my head without responding.

  “Can we buy another house?”

  If it had been anyone other than this man, I’d be pissed he tried to manipulate me. But with Collier, I knew he’d never force anything I didn’t want, and if I never found another house I adored, we’d stay here. As much as I loved this place, I loved him more. And I couldn’t wait any longer. “Yes!” I cried out, and he responded with a mind-blowing orgasm that left me lifeless in his arms.

  He carried me to the bed and covered my body with his own. The Collier who was driven to make a point took a back seat to the man who insisted on making love to me.

  Satiated and almost asleep next to him, I closed my eyes to welcome the sandman. He kissed my temple and whispered, “You should have asked for the keys one more time.”

  Fucker thought he was cute. And I loved him.

  Turned out, shopping for a house when money wasn’t an issue was far more fun than doing it on a budget. My modest home had fit my humble budget after I purchased it, but once we started looking, I realized there were things we could afford together that I never could have had on my own. I had no interest in breaking the bank, but I added a few things to my wish list.

  “You’re driving the real estate agent bonkers, babe.”

  “I’m just challenging her skill set.”

  “There isn’t a pool in this state shaped like a bottle of nail polish.”

  It was absurd, and I knew it, but I loved seeing Collier’s face when I threw out something outlandish.

  “I didn’t say that was a deal breaker.”

  “You want a four-thousand square foot house with three bedrooms. It doesn’t exist.”

  “No, you set the size, I just said three bedrooms.”

  “Custom cabinetry for your OPI collection?”

  “People have custom closets, why is this so strange?”

  “A jogging trail…with a lighted path? That’s called a street.”

  I shrugged.

  “And you only want windows on the west side of the house?”

  “That way we have a view of the sunset every night.” It seemed logical to me.

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t have windows on the other sides, too. Don’t you want to see the sunrise?”

  “Meh. I can see that on the lighted jogging path every morning.”

  “Good schools? We don’t have kids.”

  “No, but quality educations are found in better neighborhoods.”

  “Completely automated houses don’t exist in the price range you’re forcing the agent to stay within.” I didn’t really need to be able to turn down the AC remotely or turn on the lights from my phone, but it was just one more obstacle that stood in the way so I clung to it.

  “We agreed no more than double the cost of my house. That way it’s equally ours.”

  “You aren’t going to find a house with a multi-car garage that meets all of your expectations. And we only have two—why do we need anything bigger?”

  “In case I want to restore a Mustang.”

  “You’re not doing automotive restoration.”

  “I might.”

  “Giselle, babe…I’ll get you everything you’re asking for, but you have to give me some free
dom on the budget.”

  “But then it’s you buying the house.”

  I closed the dishwasher and wiped my hands on the towel by the sink. He joined me and leaned against the counter. Part of him knew the insane list of demands just prolonged the process. But I wasn’t sure if my hesitation was not being able to contribute equally, or wanting more than just a deed to a house to bind us. I hadn’t shared either of those thoughts with him, but I was pretty sure Collier believed it all centered around the money. He’d been frustrated by other women’s desire to get into his wallet, but now faced the opposite dilemma.

  “I don’t see it that way. I want to take care of you. Why won’t you let me do this?”

  I shrugged before turning to him. My lips pecked his, and I reassured him, “We’ll find the right house when the time is right.”

  As I stepped away, hopefully ending the discussion, he took my hand in his and pulled me back. “Is this about something more than the money?”

  The thin line my pressed lips formed said more than my silence. I knew he read the expression, but he didn’t force the issue before letting me go. Anything I wanted was at my fingertips, but I couldn’t pull the trigger.

  Weeks passed, and we looked at every home in the price range I’d set. There was literally no other available property in the country for us to consider unless we spent more. I knew Collier was frustrated, but he had skirted the issue. Even Ronnie and Beck thought I was crazy for not taking him up on the offer for bigger and better. Thankfully, Roxie had my back. She was the only one in the pack who agreed that for it to be “ours,” I had to feel like I was an equal partner.

  My confusion started keeping me up at night, and I was painting my nails daily trying to find comfort in color. I was going to need a recovery program if I didn’t get my shit together. With my friends on Collier’s side, I needed an outsider’s opinion. I’d thought about it all day with no solution and finally decided to seek advice in an unconventional way.

  I parked in Mama Betsy’s driveway a little after six. Collier had a dinner meeting and wouldn’t be home until late tonight, and my friends all had their own lives. No one would miss me for a couple hours, and I hoped the woman who’d comforted me months ago could bring that same peace back.

  She greeted me at the door, and the smell of freshly baked cookies lingered in the air around her. I didn’t wait for her to invite me in when I rushed her with open arms.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You’re disjointed. I can feel it all around you. It’s so heavy.”

  Mama B escorted me to her kitchen, back to the same stool I’d occupied when I’d come by previously. The familiar silver napkins sat next to a pot of hot coffee, and she offered me both before taking the seat across from me.

  I didn’t tell her what was going on, but I didn’t need to.

  “Are you moving?”

  Her question surprised me, although it shouldn’t have—that was why I was here. I hoped she had answers for me that I couldn’t find myself. “Maybe.”

  “I see boxes all around you. And a huge commitment.”

  I didn’t want to make her words mean what I wanted them to, but it was hard not to force them into the circle I’d drawn around my expectations. “My boyfriend wants us to buy a house together.”

  “He wants more than that.”

  “I’m putting this huge obstacle between us, but I’m afraid standing my ground will tear us apart.”

  “Giselle, do you trust him?”

  “Of course.” There was zero hesitation.

  “Then let it be.”

  “I don’t know what that means, Betsy.”

  The cookies she offered sat untouched next to my half-empty cup of coffee. She slid the silver napkin toward me. “Enjoy what he’s offering…without guilt.”

  We talked endlessly about love and allowing the spirit to join with another. My mind drifted to a place where our souls existed as beings, not imaginary objects, and when I was able to see them merge, everything went quiet. The voices in my head stopped yammering, the doubt drifted away, and the warm sensation I got in her house filled me.

  I glanced at the clock on her microwave and knew I had to say goodnight. “Can I come see you again?”

  “My door is always open.”

  She hugged me goodbye, and I went home.

  Collier was there when I arrived and appeared slightly panicked when I came through the front door.

  “Hey, babe. I was starting to get worried. Where were you?”

  I didn’t answer his question. I just gave him what he wanted. “You can do what you want on the house. The only thing I want is to be with you.”

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “No, silly. Just thinking.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  I couldn’t put anything that happened at Betsy’s into words, and he’d likely think I was certifiable if I tried. It had been monumental to me but would probably be insignificant to anyone else. “I just want you to be happy. And keeping us from having something together just because I can’t match you dollar for dollar doesn’t make sense.”

  “I want you to love the house, too. I don’t want to pick it out. This has to be a joint decision.”

  “I know. You tell the agent what you think is important and how much we need to spend to get it, and I promise to be open to it.”

  Two days later, we signed a contract on a gorgeous four-bedroom cottage on two acres. The house wasn’t over the top, but it was considerably bigger than what we currently had. West had found a carpenter who would customize the master bedroom closet to include an elaborate cabinet for my coveted collection of OPI which would be installed after we closed. There was a beautiful pool in the backyard with a hot tub that heated it, but it was nowhere near the size of the one in Collier’s old backyard. There were no running trails other than the miles of country roads that surrounded the land with no neighbors in sight. But it wasn’t the landscaping or the hardwood floors or even the fully automated features that sold me—it was the feeling I got when we were inside it…together.

  Warmth.

  And he’d felt it, too.

  Everything happened far faster than I anticipated. A cash sale didn’t have to wait a month to close, and with an offer on my house, there was no reason to stay where we were. Collier paid movers to pack and haul our things, although I’d made sure to grab my nail polish on my own. It went with me, not on a moving truck.

  I closed and locked the door behind me after the last box left my old house. This step was huge, but everything about it felt right.

  17

  It didn’t take long to settle into upper-middle class life. Our house became the group hangout—either Collier’s friends were here or mine or both, and often when we weren’t. I loved the sense of family and even more that they felt welcome here. But financially, I was stressed. I hated not contributing equally, and every time another bill came in, the strain got harder. When Ronnie, Roxie, or Beck came over, I felt like it was my responsibility to pay for the things they used or the food they consumed…and those bitches were eating me out of house and home. For thin women, they ate like men, and we won’t talk about the copious amounts of wine they chugged by the pool. I’d never realized what lushes they’d become.

  “Babe?” Collier called into the house from the porch where he was grilling for our friends.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you go run pick up some more beer? I can’t leave the meat.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I let out a sigh. I hadn’t thought he could see me from where he stood…I was wrong.

  “Elle?” He’d taken to shortening my name since we moved here. He didn’t want to call me Gizzy because it was Ronnie’s nickname for me, and he thought it had an “inappropriate connotation.” Truthfully, I loved that he had chosen something no one else used, but it also made it hard to be upset when I heard it. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
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  Collier called over his shoulder to Parker to watch the food and then came inside, closing the door behind him. My forced smile did nothing to prove I was all right. His hand stopped mine when I reached for my keys. “Look at me.”

  There was no way I could hide from him if he could see my eyes, and he knew it.

  “Please,” he asked again.

  I tipped my eyes to his and raised my head. He pulled me into him, pressing our waists together and flirting with his stare. His hips swayed from side to side, taking mine with them.

  “We don’t keep secrets…so tell me what’s going on.”

  I kind of had been keeping one though, but it was out of pride and not any desire to hurt him. My lips pursed as I tried to form the words I didn’t want to share. “I don’t get paid until next week.”

  My statement meant nothing in his world. He didn’t live paycheck to paycheck and had no idea I had been. I’d never had tons of money to throw away, but I’d been comfortable before moving in here.

  “Okay, you’re going to have to give me more to go on.”

  The wrinkle between his brows when he furrowed them normally brought a smile to my face. It was adorable the way he scrunched his forehead and nose. But I was irritated he wasn’t more aware of my circumstances…even if I’d never drawn him a picture.

  “I don’t have any money.” Never in my life had I been ashamed of my financial status. I was proud of the things I did have and didn’t need more. I could go out with my friends, travel occasionally, and every once in a while, buy myself a new purse or outfit. OPI was a fixture in my budget like most people bought milk, but I hadn’t picked up a single bottle in forever.

  He reached for his wallet in his back pocket. “Here, just take my card.”

  The piece of plastic felt like failure in my hand. “I don’t want it.”

  “That’s silly, Elle. I asked you to go get the beer; I should pay for it.”

  My teeth worried my bottom lip, and I refused to give in. My stubborn streak was as long and wide as the Grand Canyon.

  “Why not?” His tone had gone from complacent to agitated quickly.