by K. R. Reese
“Is there something you want to say? You’ve been quiet, and there’s tension right now. I can feel it.”
I intently watch as his hands grip the steering wheel, proving my suspicions right. Dylan looks down at Cheyenne, probably to make sure she’s still dead to the world. That just means whatever he’s about to say, I’m not going to like it.
“Earlier, you changed the subject so smoothly. Like you had the answer prepared long before I asked. In case I ever asked. I let it go, for her sake. But she tensed up before I ever asked what I wanted to know.” He laughs before he continues. “You’re my best friend, Cole, and I don’t want that to change. But…,” he glances back to Cheyenne. “I love her, man. I plan to spend the rest of our lives proving that to her. Because she deserves that, she deserves it all. The only thing I can’t get out of my head are the rumors. The closeness. Well, at least how close you used to be. I just need to know.”
Dylan’s last sentence is quiet, whispered. I stare at him then look out the window as night starts to fall.
“Cheyenne and I, we’re friends Dylan. That’s all we’ll ever be. And I’m glad she’s with you; she deserves someone who will treat her the way she deserves to be treated.”
He still doesn’t look satisfied with my answer. Before he can say something else, Cheyenne shifts slightly. Her head is now lying on my chest, one of her arms wrapped around my waist. I inhale sharply, very aware of the feelings coursing through my body. I try to keep my expression neutral, but Dylan’s jaw is clenched tight.
“Sometimes it feels like one or both of you would rather be more than friends. And I’m just the one standing in your way.”
I sigh. I think it’s time he hears the truth. My truth, at least.
“Listen, man, there was a time when I thought Cheyenne and I could’ve been something more than friends. It was before I dated Kenzie, before you moved here. But I never made a move. I never brought it up or talked to her about it, about how I was feeling. Because no matter what I was feeling then, Cheyenne’s friendship – years of memories – was more important.”
I watch as Dylan’s anger slowly fades. He’s still skeptical, I can tell, and I brace myself for the question that comes next.
“And now? What do you feel now?”
I knew it was coming, yet I suck in a breath anyway.
“And now, those feelings linger. I never understood them completely anyway. But they don’t just disappear. I think a part of me has always loved her, and probably always will. But I backed off, Dylan, I gave you guys space. Your friendship, Cheyenne’s friendship. That’s what’s most important to me.”
Dylan pulls in front of the cabin and leaves the truck running. He doesn’t move his gaze from the windshield. I shift Cheyenne from my chest to unload our things. He needs time to process, absorb what I told him. I can’t answer for Chey, and I don’t think he’ll ever ask her anyway. I may have ruined our friendship, our weekend. But I wasn’t going to lie to him about it either.
A few minutes after everything is in the cabin, Dylan walks in carrying a still sleeping Cheyenne. He points to the stairs and I nod my head in acknowledgement. We’ve all had a long day and could really use the rest.
Rather than going to my room, I find the bottle of Jack Daniels leftover in the freezer and sit at the table. I don’t drink, not usually. But after the intense ride here, namely after Cheyenne fell asleep, I need it.
I’m not sure who I’m more pissed off at – Dylan or myself. I let the emotions break through, something I’m very good at blocking out. Yet, my best friend thinks I’m going to steal his girlfriend instead of trusting me. I hope tomorrow is better than today. Otherwise, this weekend trip is going to be a headache.
Hours later, I’ve moved to the living room and switched from liquor to beer. Dylan hasn’t made a reappearance, so I figure I’m on my own tonight.
Releasing the tension in my shoulders and neck, I think about the next few months. We leave on Monday. I knew it was coming, and I hadn’t been nervous this whole time. Now, though, I wish we had longer.
Being away from the only place I’ve ever known is going to be weird. Parents, school, the track. Everything I know is about to change.
The part I’m dreading the most? Telling Cheyenne goodbye. She’s always been right next door my entire life. Now, she’ll be thousands of miles away and I can’t even call her. Though maybe that’s a good thing since I’ll be with Dylan. I don’t think he would appreciate the calls.
A sound from the stairs pulls my attention that direction. Cheyenne looks around before her gaze lands on mine.
“Cole?” Cheyenne walks toward me. I close my eyes to block out her lack of clothing, though I’ve seen her in less. “What are you doing? Dylan thought you had gone to bed. Have you been drinking?” Concern laces her tone.
“For God’s sake, Chey,” I hesitate. “One question at a time. I can’t keep up with you right now. Yes, I’ve been drinking.”
“Are you okay? You never drink. I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake Dylan. That’s why I came down here. If I had known you were still awake, we would’ve come down. You didn’t have to spend tonight alone.”
I look at her through one half-opened eye. “I don’t think Dylan’s very happy with me right now. It’s probably best you guys stayed upstairs.” Though it killed me to think about what they might have been doing for her to be dressed like that.
Cheyenne bites her lip, her cheeks burning. There are a million reasons for why she could be blushing, but my mind only goes to one. My furious stare rakes over her. Instead of recoiling, Chey’s tongue traces her bottom lip. My breath hitches, and lust flares to life in her eyes.
“I, uh, I know I shouldn’t have. But I woke up and you guys were talking.” She breaks eye contact, biting at her lip again. “I listened in the truck. I heard what you said to Dylan.”
She looks toward the stairs, listening before she comes to sit beside me. I sit up straighter, eyeing her cautiously.
Then, Cheyenne does the unthinkable.
She leans up and kisses me.
My reaction is instantaneous, I can’t fight it. Lips warm and ready, I take control of the kiss and pull her against me. She melts into me as I encircle her in my arms. One of my hands drifts down her side, caressing until I hold her waist. The other threads through her hair. Pressing her into my chest, I deepen the kiss.
I explore her mouth with my tongue, and she follows every stroke. The air around us sizzles with need. She settles against me with a soft moan, and I pull her hips into mine, my groin confirming my desire. When my palm settles against her breast, a low growl comes from somewhere deep inside me, and the kiss becomes primal and urgent. My brain clouds, a moan escapes Cheyenne, and it startles us both.
Shit.
“No, no. We can’t do this. This can’t happen, Chey.” I push myself away from her.
“I’m sorry.” Cheyenne looks everywhere but at me. Anything to avoid my stare. I watch her eyes flick toward the stairs, wanting to make a run for it, but I stand and take her hand.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, Cole. I’m sorry. Can we…pretend this never happened? Please?”
I stare at her a moment, conflicting emotions playing across her face.
“I don’t want to hurt Dylan. Especially over a foolish kiss that didn’t mean anything,” Cheyenne whispers.
I give a slow nod, my anger resurfacing. “Right. We’re good at pretending nothing ever happened.” My tone turns retaliatory. Cheyenne’s face falls, a frown in place, before she walks away.
I’m not trying to hurt her, but the alcohol is talking. One of the many reasons I don’t drink.
Tomorrow, we all need to enjoy the day and have a good time. No mention of emotions or feelings. No mention about Monday. Just three friends having a good time before they go their separate ways.
I pondered what to say to Cole most of the night. I don’t know what I was doing, what I was thinking. My emotions are alread
y every which way with their departure on Monday; when I spotted Cole downstairs drinking, alone, something inside me crumbled. Cole never drinks. Ever.
Now, Dylan’s wrapped around me and I feel guilty. I feel guilty for kissing Cole, for the weakness it shows. But I feel guilty for what I said to Cole after more. The kiss was foolish, but it also meant something. Something I’m not willing to admit, now or in the future.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Dylan whispers in my ear as he rolls on top of me.
“Dylan, what are you doing?”
“I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
I nod, unable to form words. When he reaches for the bottom of my shirt and pulls it over my head, my breath hitches.
“Cole is right down the hall. We can’t do this here.”
“Chey, he isn’t going to hear us.” His words are hoarsely whispered against my lips.
Dylan’s gaze sets me on fire, and my heart kicks into overdrive. I lick my lips and lean up to kiss him. The moment his tongue touches mine, his body falls forward, pushing me into the mattress. Our eyes stay connected the entire time as I watch his every move.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Cheyenne,” he groans into the side of my neck, placing soft kisses against my pulse.
Dylan slowly crawls his way down my body, lightly kissing my bare breasts. He sucks my nipple into his mouth, caressing the other with his hand.
My back arches off the bed, craving more. Needing more.
“Do you want me to touch you, Chey?” he asks in between kisses down my stomach. He pulls off my panties and tosses them to the floor.
“Does it feel good, Chey?” he mumbles against my thigh this time.
I nod, unable to form words again. Dylan spreads my legs further apart, and softly blows cool air over my most sensitive parts. My breathing is heavy and deep, my skin warm.
When he skims my clit with the tip of his tongue, I rock my hips against him and purr, shuddering.
“Oh God, Dylan.”
He pins my legs against the mattress, and glances up at me, a mischievous look in his eyes. When our gazes lock, he licks from the bottom to the top of my slit. I moan in response, no longer caring if I’m heard.
Dylan gently pushes through my opening with his middle finger, continuing my torture with his tongue on my clit. I turn my face away, whimpering as he removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue.
“Oh, God, right there,” I pant.
“Right there, huh?” he mocks, inserting his fingers again to push harder against the spot inside me. My back arches off the bed again, the sheets clenched tightly in my fists.
“I want you to come, Chey. I want you to squeeze the fuck out of my fingers.”
The sound of Dylan’s filthy words has my body pulsing, shaking.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Within seconds, my legs start to shake. My hands immediately grip onto his hair and I moan in response.
Next thing I know, he’s kissing me and discarding his boxers on the floor. I can taste myself on his lips, but I have no time to think about it before he’s thrusting inside me, driving me into oblivion again.
I was trying to sleep off my massive hangover from the night – or was it day? – before when something disrupts the peaceful quiet of the room. At first, I’m not sure what I hear. Until I hear it again.
I groan and pull the pillow over my head to block out the noise coming from down the hall. But I can still hear them, hear her.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I growl.
I give up, deciding that sleep is a lost cause, and head to the kitchen for breakfast. By the time everything is cooked, Dylan saunters in with Cheyenne close behind.
I stare at them from the table. Dylan has a big ass grin, both fresh out of the shower.
“Have an enjoyable morning?” I ask, humor in my voice.
I don’t find it the least bit funny. I figure Dylan did it to prove a point after our conversation last night. I’m filled with rage and jealousy, but I don’t let it show.
When neither answers me, I cock my eyebrow at Cheyenne. She blushes and makes herself busy at the table with the food.
“Thanks for making breakfast. You didn’t have to,” she says, her voice barely audible.
I laugh and grab a piece of bacon. “Well, something has to clear up this hangover.”
Her gaze meets mine and she frowns. Dylan doesn’t notice her reaction or our exchange, so if I had to guess, I would say she didn’t tell him she came downstairs last night. He probably wouldn’t appreciate our alone time. Any alone time between us. He trusts Chey, but he doesn’t trust me.
“What’s the plan today?” Dylan asks casually, ignoring the tension in the room.
Cheyenne’s face lights up, her previous thoughts gone.
“I want to take the bikes out.” Her excitement radiates off her, fueling my own.
“We’ve never taken them anywhere but the local track. I’m sure riding the trails behind the cabin would be awesome.” I chime in, supporting the idea.
Dylan’s face doesn’t display the same attitude as ours. “Why do we have to take the bikes out today? We can hike those trails just the same and make an entire day out of it.”
I don’t weigh my opinion this time. Whatever disagreement they have is between them, and I’m going to stay out of it.
“If you don’t ride your bike now, you never will. You leave on Monday.”
I can hear the pain in Cheyenne’s words. But again, I stay out of it. I don’t reach out to comfort her. I don’t want it to seem like I’m choosing sides.
“I want to take a hike with you, Chey, show you all there really is on the property. We can take the bikes out tomorrow.”
Cheyenne looks to me for help, but I shrug. This decision has to be completely her own choice.
“What about Cole? We can’t just leave him here by himself. This weekend is for the both of you.”
I quickly intervene before Dylan takes her words differently. And not in a good way. “I’ll be fine on my own. I plan to take my bike out. Plus, it’ll give you guys some more alone time.”
I smirk at Dylan, but my gut is twisting in agony with the lie. Cheyenne frowns again, glaring at me.
“I guess we’re going on a hike. I’ll go change.” She stomps out of the room and back up the stairs.
There’s an awkward silence before Dylan speaks up. “Thanks, man. I’m sure this isn’t how you thought this weekend would be. I want to spend as much time with her as I can before…well, you know. I don’t know what her problem is today, though.”
I shrug and stand to clean the kitchen. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I get it. And I really am looking forward to riding the trails.”
Dylan stands with me and waves me off. “This is going to sound weird. Really weird. But you cooked, I’ll clean. Go talk to her because I’m fairly certain she’s mad at the both of us.”
I quirk my brow at him, sure it’s a joke. When he ignores me, I turn and go upstairs in search of Cheyenne.
I’m tying my boots when there’s a knock at the door. It must be Cole. Dylan would have just walked in. I stand and swing the door wide.
“What do you want?” I ask.
Cole holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slightly. “Dylan sent me up to talk to you. I know you’re upset with both of us.” His voice drops low, to a whisper. “I can’t side with you on everything, Chey. I’m trying to keep a barrier between us because of Dylan. He’s just as much my best friend as he is yours, and I won’t let your relationship come between us. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but I think you need to hear it.”
My anger doesn’t subside. If anything, his words only cause it to worsen. “I didn’t want you to side with me. I wanted some support. I hate hiking. And Dylan bought a bike months ago; he hasn’t used it.”
Cole steps forward into my personal space. “I’l
l support you in almost everything. But I can’t when it comes to decisions that make it seem like I’m choosing you. It’ll only set him off. You know and I know it.”
“What happened to it would always be me? You changed your tune really quick when Dylan started to catch on that there was something between us.”
Cole backs me into the wall in the hallway, pinning me with his hips. “I will always choose you, Chey, I won’t deny that. Would you like your boyfriend to know what’s between us? What’s always been there? Because if you do, then by all means I’ll side with you every Goddamn time. But it won’t end well for you, for me, or for Dylan.” I gasp when I feel his erection against my hip. A flutter erupts low in my belly. “Think hard before you answer, Cheyenne, because your answer may surprise you.”
I inhale sharply. The intensity of his gaze jumbles my thoughts, and I can’t think with him standing this close.
“What’s it going to be, Chey?” he whispers an inch from my lips.
“Dylan can’t know,” I whisper. Cole instantly steps away. A small hint of pain registers on his face, but he hides it well. “I don’t want to hurt you. Either of you. But I don’t…”
Cole cuts me off. “I don’t need you to explain, Chey. You chose Dylan. I get it.” He points in the direction of his room. “I’m going to change and take my bike out for a while. I probably won’t be back until late, so don’t wait up if you guys get back first.”
Before I can come up with a reasonable response, he’s closed his door and I’m left standing alone. My heart is pounding in my chest, my breaths coming in short bursts. I feel like I just lost my best friend, and he hasn’t even left yet.
I shake myself out of the emotional rollercoaster my mind is currently in and go in search of Dylan. I walk downstairs to find him leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed. When I enter the room, he pops one eye open and stares at me expectantly.
“Are you ready to go? The sooner we leave, the more time we’ll have.” He stands abruptly and leads me toward the door.