by Laura Carter
She eventually stands, looking up at me, her big blue eyes wide. “Jake.”
I exhale a short laugh. Not because I find the situation funny. I don’t. At all. I’ve been trying to avoid coming face-to-face with Emily. I’ve done everything in my power not to see her since I last saw her, when she was fucking Brandon. “Who else would I be?”
She brushes off my attitude. She never did let me get away with being a dick. Although, in this case, I happen to think it’s justifiable. “My dad said he thought you might be here this week.”
Nothing about her has changed. The lines at the side of her lips are the same. The dimple in her chin that never goes and gets more pronounced when she smiles, is there.
“Don’t you have anything to say to me, Jake?”
I don’t know. I’m not sure I can form words, and even if I could, I don’t know what I would say. She looks the same. She looks like my Emily. The Emily I brought home from school every day. The Emily I taught to skateboard. The Emily who asked me to take her virginity because she was afraid to let anyone else be first. But how can that Emily be the same Emily who ripped my heart out?
I lift the peak of my cap and set it back on my head with a sigh. “I don’t know, Emily.”
She reaches up and shuffles the peak of my cap to the left, like she always used to do, right before she said, “It’s crooked.”
When she says the words, I feel my lips curve up the smallest amount. She brings her palm to my cheek. Her touch feels…normal. “I’ve missed you, Jake.” The words leave her as a whisper that’s almost lost in the sound of rustling of leaves in the trees around us. “Walk back with me?”
I don’t know why I say it but I do. “Race you.”
We both sprint down the last click, panting and laughing by the time we stop outside her parents’ summer home. She stands, with her hands on her hips, catching her breath. I can feel her gaze trained on me. I’m not ready for her. Instead, I look at the house and tell her, “This is nice.”
“It’s new. Ish. They bought it a little over a year ago.”
“Time was I would have known that without you having to tell me.”
“You used to know everything about me, Jake.”
I turn to her now, by my side. “Not everything.”
“I messed up. I screwed up and I’m sorry. But how long are you going to hold it against me, Jake? Are you honestly willing to throw everything away? Twenty-odd years of friendship.”
I glare at her now. “I didn’t, Emily. I didn’t.”
“I just said I’m sorry! I said it again, for the hundredth time. I’m sorry. But it’s not like it was easy for me seeing you with girls night after night at college. I hated it!”
“He was one of my closest friends, Emily. He was my roommate. You were in my goddamn house!”
It feels good to yell at her, even if we are in the street and a woman walking by with a stroller is staring at us. It feels good and too damn long overdue. But when her anger wanes and her eyes fill, I can’t keep it up. My red screen retracts and I pull her into my shoulder. She wraps her arms around me tightly. I rest my chin on her cap. “Stop crying. You know I hate when you cry.”
“I can’t help it,” she mumbles against me. “You smell so bad it’s making my eyes water.”
I feel her shoulders chug and laugh with her. “How did we end up here?” I ask, not sure whether I meant to say it aloud or ask myself.
She pulls back from my hold. “I think maybe we loved each other too much.” As I’m trying to fathom what in the hell that cryptic mess means, she asks. “Can I see you, while you’re here? Just…to talk. Catch up.”
Do I want that? I’m not sure but the pleading look on her face makes me say, “The gang’s here. I’m sure they’d like to see you. There are some new additions now. I think you’ll like them. Come over for dinner, if you like.”
Her smile is barely there but it is there. “I’d like that.”
I head into Drew’s house and toward the kitchen, where I find two sets of inquisitive eyes on me. Drew and Brooks share the same expression. “Don’t ask,” I tell them. I take the glass of water they’ve poured for me and hand one to Kit as he finally makes his way home. We take them out back. The first thing I notice is Marty lying on the deck chair, still clothed as he was when we left but without a cell phone in his hand. His arms are behind his head and his attention is focused on the decking by the pool. Drew, Brooks, Kit and I stand in a row along the pool’s edge, following Marty’s gaze to the five bodies bent over into downward dog. Five asses are pressed high into the air as the girls adopt their yoga pose.
There’s only one pair of cheeks I’m fixed on and that’s the pair that were the source of my morning wood. I watch Jess transition into another move. I recognize the plank; then she lowers her chest to the mat and pushes up on her hands until the only other part of her body touching the mat is the tops of her feet. Her back is arched, her head back, her breasts pushed up. I know what that body can do. How she makes me feel. And it is not good when I’m wearing sweats.
I look along the row and I know that each one of us is having thoughts that belong in a gutter. Then something occurs to me and I shout over toward the pool. “Who the fuck are you looking at, Marty?”
He snaps his head toward us and grins. That fucker. “He can take his preying eyes off my girl, or I’ll damn well make him,” I mumble.
“I thought you said you were just friends?” Drew asks.
I give him a look that says, “Shut the hell up.” Because right now, I’m damn confused about where friendship stops and exclusive relationship begins.
The girls ruin our ogling fun, finishing up their workout. They talk among themselves as they head up toward the pool.
When they near us guys, I can see what’s coming…because it’s something I’d do myself. Jess shouts, “Three, two—”
Before she can push me into the pool, I grab her arms, taking her with me as we plunge into the water alongside Brooks and Izzy. Drew and Kit crash in solo. We come to the surface and take a deep breath. I grab Jess, pulling her toward me. She bends her knees. Is it to stop herself from wrapping her legs around me? I would have preferred that option.
“You think that’s funny, do you?”
She nods, laughing as she bites her lip, wondering what my next move will be. I lift her quickly, propelling her out of the water so she goes under again, making a tremendous splash.
She’s laughing harder this time as she pops up. She swims over to me and this time she does wrap her legs around my waist. Her hair tie has fallen out and her hair sticks to the sides of her face. As she grips my hips with her thighs, I rub the wet locks from her face, tucking them behind her ears. Our eyes meet as I do and, call me crazy, but I think there’s something in the look we share. Something that says, we haven’t screwed this week. A challenge. Something compels me to trail my thumb down her soft red lips. The lips that I know kiss me so well. And I know we’re sober but I’m certain Jess inches forward. Whatever this pull I’m feeling is, she’s feeling it too.
Then she pushes up and with superhuman strength, dunks me beneath the water. I break the surface. Her legs kick as she treads water. “You needed to cool off, mister.”
As did she, but I let that slide. “Yeah, I needed that.”
I climb out of the pool and strip down to my boxer briefs. I know she checks me out as I do. She pulls off her wet T-shirt, leaving her in leggings and a sports bra. The tat of roses that I know so well from screwing her doggy-style, is on view along the bottom of her back. What most people don’t know, is that buried deep in the rose petals, are two words—Mum and Dad. I smile to myself. I love that I know things about her no one else does.
As we head into the kitchen, we find Drew, pinning Becky to the kitchen island, with his hips pressed to hers. He kisses her neck as she whispers something to him.
“Dude, seriously, I can’t handle you two on an empty stomach.”
I see Drew smirk, right before he kisses Becky in the way I imagine most women want to be kissed.
In the bedroom, it’s clear Jess thought that too. “They’re great together,” she tells me.
I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lips. “Yeah, they are.”
She slips out of her wet leggings and pads toward me in only her sports bra and panties. The good Lord himself would be giving me a slap on the back right now for the level of self-restraint I’m showing. “Want to make a bet, my betting friend?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “What’s the bet?”
“I think your brother is going to propose to Becky this week.”
“You do?” I feel my lips widen.
She nods. “He got all his friends together for a week. In a new house that has enough bedrooms to host a family. And he can’t take his hands or eyes off her. He is one hundred percent smitten.”
“I agree with everything you said. But this is the only time I’ve seen my brother in a serious relationship in my whole life. And they’ve only been together for a matter of months. For that reason, I think you could be wrong.”
She shrugs. “When you know, you know, right? Do you take the bet?”
“Stakes?”
“The usual. You lose, you make me breakfast naked. I lose…well, I won’t. This is happening.”
I run a hand along my stubble-covered chin. This is basically a win, win. I lose the bet, my brother gets engaged. I win, Jess gets naked.
I hold out my hand. “I’ll shake on that, miss.”
“Deal.”
“Now, would you please remove that fine ass from this bedroom before I break all our rules and fuck you senseless?”
Her eyes widen, then narrow and grow darker. Her lips part. Then she fakes a laugh and walks, a little unsteadily, to the bathroom.
Ah, Jesus, I really do need to fuck her. This is the first week in—hell, ten weeks?—that I haven’t had a fix of her body. It’s the first time I’ve realized she’s become a craving.
I watch her fine behind before she closes the door and I hear the shower turn on. Then I stare at the closed door. My heart starts to beat faster in my chest. My breathing quickens. I take my hand to my cock and confirm just how much he wants a piece of what’s in that room.
I know the rules. I know exactly why we put them in place. But hell, at this moment I’m struggling to think of one good reason why we can’t break them this once.
I strip out of my boxer briefs and head into the bathroom. I pause, my hand on the door handle. Just once. What’s the harm?
Something is telling me this is a bad idea. Something makes me pause. But I open the door. She turns to me. The hot shower has filled the room with steam but I see her beneath the multiple shower heads. Looking fucking hot. Looking at me the way she looked at me moments ago. Those hooded eyes. The slight gap between her lips.
Like a wave, lust crashes over me and hurtles me toward her. I move into the shower, push her back to the tiled wall, and cover her mouth with my own. She groans as she kisses me back just as fiercely. Her hands roam my back. Her nails dig into my flesh.
Jesus, she tastes good. I grind against her, my erection growing harder and longer. Painfully desperate to be inside her.
Words are coming to my mind and threatening to break from my lips. I want to tell her how much I adore her. How good my days are when they’re filled with her. How no one has ever satisfied me like she does.
Holy fuck!
I pull back from her and walk backward until my ass is pressed to the wall opposite her. I’m breathing harder now than I was after running earlier. I drag a hand through my hair.
Her eyes are closed, her head resting back against the tiles. “This is why we have the rules.”
I don’t know whether to confirm that statement, or whether to linger on the fact she might have had similar thoughts to my own. Instead, I drag my hands over my face and leave the room without saying anything.
Downstairs, Sarah is stuffing bacon into rolls and making a mountain of food in the middle of the table. I boil the kettle and find one of the boxes of loose-leaf tea I picked up in the airport.
By the time I set the tea on the table, everyone else is seated, except for Jess. For a moment, I worry we crossed a line. I don’t want anything to be awkward between us. I couldn’t stand it if that were to happen with Jess.
But she strolls into the kitchen, her bright print kaftan flowing as she walks. As outrageously bright as the sheer material is, she looks beautiful. Her hair wet. Her face makeup free. Her feet bare.
“Oh, Jess, I adore that outfit,” Sarah says.
“Thank you. It’s actually from my summer collection.”
“You made that?” Madge asks.
I fill with pride as they talk about how skilled Jess is as a designer. I already know that. Not that I blow smoke up her ass. That’s not how we roll.
As I finish stirring her tea, I feel her hand on my back. “Are we good?” she asks.
I wrap my arm around her and pull her to me, pressing my lips to her hair. “We’re good. Just a blip.”
She gives me a soft smile; then her eyes fall to the tea pot. “Is that my funky tea?”
I chuckle. “That’s your funky tea.”
“Thanks.” She takes the pot and moves to the table.
“For the record, you’re like a six. And that’s only because I can see your bikini through that thing.”
She laughs as she sits and everything is right between us.
* * * *
We’re all lounging by the pool, reading, listening to music, dipping in the pool, having a beer. It must be seventy-five to eighty out, which is warm for this time of year. Maybe someone is smiling down on us—friends, ocean, sun, bikinis and beers. I pull my knees up in my board shorts and bring my hands behind my head, knocking my cap forward enough to shield my eyes as I shamelessly watch Jess move from her lounger to the music dock on a table in the corner of the pool area. By magazine standards, you might think she’s normal looking—whatever that means. She doesn’t have legs that go up to her neck. She isn’t six feet tall. She doesn’t have blond hair that’s polished and perfectly straight and runs down to the small of her back. She’s toned but she doesn’t have abs, or cut in at the hips. She has a flat stomach. Her breasts aren’t large; they’re just perfectly sized for her body—and my hands, in case you were wondering. The bones at her collarbone and sternum don’t show through her skin. Her jawline isn’t prominent. Her cheekbones aren’t high and dramatic. So, I can’t tell you why I’m lying here with a semi-on and thinking she is a fucking sublime human being. But damn it, she is. She’s her own person. She looks her own way. Sounds her own way. Dresses her own way. And these days she’s confident. She’s come out of her shell in so many ways since we first met.
I am one lucky bastard for getting to screw her. That’s what I’m thinking as Becky turns her head on the lounger next to mine and lowers her book to her chest. “Jake, if you’re trying to be inconspicuous, it isn’t working.”
Cover blown, I readjust my cap. Sarah sits up on the lounger to my other side and brings her legs over to face Becky and me. “To make sure I’ve got this. You two are best friends, right? I mean, you don’t need to answer that because I can see how well you get along. You’re like the other half of each other. But, you’re also sleeping together.”
“Only when we’ve had a drink,” I correct. “And we don’t do the sleepover thing. Well, we were never supposed to.”
“Aha, right. So, you adore this woman. We love her, just so you know.” Becky nods too, as she comes to sit and join the tag-team against me. “And you’re totally hot for her.”
I know where this is going. I look around for some moral support but none of the guys a
re paying attention to the three of us.
“Tell me again why you aren’t together.”
I can feel myself getting defensive and my words coming out curter than I intend. “Sarah, you know as well as anyone that men and women can be friends. Look at you and Drew.”
She raises her hands. “Absolutely. The difference is, I’ve never slept with Drew. Nor have I ever wanted to sleep with your brother. No offense, Becks.”
Becky laughs. “None taken.”
“Look, she doesn’t want more and neither do I. Why would we ruin a good thing?”
Our attention is stolen by a burst of laughter from Jess. The three of us turn our heads to where she’s standing by the speakers with Marty. His hand is resting on the small of her back as he leans across her shoulder, pointing to her iPhone, where I suspect she’s scrolling through music.
Every muscle in my body tightens. “That’s why,” Sarah says. “And don’t roll your jaw at me, Jake Harrington.”
Groaning, I drop my head back on the lounger. Yeah, so I can’t stand Marty, or any man for that matter, being near Jess. That doesn’t mean I’m ready to risk our friendship by changing things between us. Or putting myself out there just to be shot down by the guards she keeps armed and ready on the high walls she’s been building around herself since she was nine years old.
“He needs to take his fucking hands off her.” I know I’ve said that out loud when Sarah gets up from her lounger and heads over to Jess and Marty, faking a reason to get Marty’s attention.
“She’s so amazing,” Becky says, watching Sarah. “I think she could turn me.”
I laugh. I hope Drew does propose. I’d like Becky to stick around. On cue, Drew comes over, hands Becky a virgin mojito and slides onto the lounger behind her, pulling her back between his legs to rest on his chest.
“Jake, did Drew ever tell you how we got together?”
I narrow my eyes. “Kind of.”
“Well, I bet he didn’t tell you about his note and my mediocre desserts.”