Two years after I got the tattoo, Spencer tore his Achilles tendon, and it took about ten months to heal completely after surgery. At the end of the countless physical therapy sessions, Spencer had some epiphany, or a breakdown, not sure which, and enrolled in the police academy.
It took us all by surprise. And of course, Uncle Henry was beside himself and tried to convince Spencer to go back to the team. But something happened during that time, and to this day, he hasn’t told me why he changed from a promising baseball career to working with the police force.
“It’s gotta suck having to hear it from your dad all the time.” I clear my throat. “Maybe you both need to talk so he’ll understand—”
“Are you happy,” he asks off the cuff.
“Excuse me?”
“Are you happy?” he repeats.
“Why do you do that?” I ask, remembering the other times he’s avoided talking about his dad. They’d always gotten along until Spencer’s injury.
He drags his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know what it’s like to always live under the shadow of The Flash,” he says, making air quotes with his fingers and referring to his dad’s college baseball nickname. Just like Uncle Henry, Spencer played outfield and had amazing speed around the diamond.
“Enlighten me, then,” I scold. “You know, he just wants the best for you.”
“Only if it has to do with baseball.”
“I can’t believe that’s true. It’s not like your dad ended up going pro either.”
“I just wish he would say that he’s proud of what I am doing. Being a detective isn’t a walk in the park.”
“I’m sorry things haven’t gotten any better between you two,” I say as I sag into his side again, and he wraps his arms around me. I’ve had my fair share of cuddling with guys in college and the few men I’ve gone on dates with, but none were as comforting as the warmth of Spencer’s body next to mine.
“I miss this,” he says. It’s dark except for the moonlight casting between the clouds above us. His fingers graze my bare arms leaving goosebumps in their trail, and I turn slightly to see his profile.
“I’ve forgotten how quiet it is in Sleepy Sunnyville,” I say, with only the quietness of the night taking over this moment. The crickets, the rustle of the trees, and the sound of our breathing.
“I miss this place.” He kisses the top of my head. “I miss simpler times.”
“You know what I else I miss,” I say more like a statement and laugh. “I miss the farmer’s market and all the goodies.”
“You’ve got Chinatown.” He laughs.
“Yes. But it’s not the same. There are no homemade pies or deep-fried foods.”
He shifts, forcing me to sit up, missing his warmth. “Sabs, do you ever think about the times we spent here?”
“All the time,” I answer. “But—”
“But what?” he asks, cutting me off as he tucks my hair behind my ear.
“I needed to get out of this town.”
“Tell me the truth. I dare you. What was so bad that you wanted out of this town?”
I can’t fall for this dare. He can’t know that I’ve been in love with him for years. It would change our dynamic, our friendship, our us, and I’d rather love him from afar and remain friends than take the chance of him knowing, and we lose what we have.
He leans closer to me—eyes locked on mine, looking at me through his thick lashes. His hand rests on my leg while his thumb caresses my thigh, sending a tingle straight to my core. My thighs begin to throb under the skirt I’m wearing.
We sit with only the sound of our breath between us. As he leans closer, it forces me to lean back against the tree as the leaves bristle above us from the wind.
My heart is beating fast and hard against my chest. The expression on his face makes my brain feel muddled. I truly believe he gets off on making me feel this way.
This moment is too intense, and I’m left wondering if he is going to kiss me.
Being around Spencer has always been comfortable. But as we look at each other, it’s anything but. Confusion, desire, and wonder fill his eyes, as do mine.
I focus on our friendship and how I need to keep it at bay. I think about all the girls he dated, how I am not his type and his sister’s best friend. But being here with Spencer makes me want to tell him how long and hard I’ve loved him all these years.
“Sabrina. Tell me. If this town made you happy, why did you want to leave?”
“I-I can’t answer that,” I say breathlessly.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you happy? Right here, right now?”
“Yes,” I whisper and wonder how that even came out of my mouth. My cheeks warm, and I’m embarrassed I’ve said too much with just one word.
My palms are sweating and my pulse races. His fingers slowly trace my bare skin as my common sense leaves my brain, and I chalk it up to the alcohol buzzing through me.
This can’t be happening.
Every part of my body comes alive with his soft touch. A lump forms in my throat, and I’m paralyzed, afraid of what will happen next.
His blue eyes meet mine and I have to look away. He pulls my chin, forcing me to look at him. The silence stretches as his thumb grazes over my bottom lip.
I study the intensity in his eyes, I can see the tension of it all.
Maybe it’s his job.
Maybe it’s the conversation we had about his dad.
Maybe it’s this moment. I’ll go with the latter.
“Do you miss us?” he asks, leaning closer to me, his lips just inches from mine.
“Spencer,” I whisper.
“I miss us,” he adds.
“What are you doing?” I ask nervously.
“I have this sudden urge to kiss you, Buttercup. Will you let me?”
I see the desire in his eyes and hearing my nickname roll off his lips makes me want to surrender to what feels like I’ve been waiting for all my life.
Spencer
“Spencer, you’re my best friend. We can’t,” she mutters. “Why do you want to kiss me?” Sabrina asks, and I don’t have a damn answer for her.
Well, that’s a crock of shit. I’ve always found Sabrina attractive, hell, she’s fucking gorgeous, and she doesn’t need all the make-up like the other women I’ve been with.
The thing holding me back is what we have. I don’t want to ruin it.
I may have fantasized about her lips on mine the day she got that tattoo. We’ve had our fair share of ups and downs. Although Sabrina gets me, and I don’t want to mess things up between us. If I let her in, she’ll see what a fuck up I really am. And she deserves so much better than me. So much has changed since we were kids.
There should be a handbook about friends having feelings for one another. And if there is, it will be a short book. I guarantee the first rule, friends turning into lovers is a fucking mess. But I can’t help how I feel about her.
Sabrina has this place in my heart that only belongs to her and no one else. If I give in to whatever is happening right now, I’m afraid I will ruin the purest thing about our friendship. Us.
And what do I know about holding onto women and loving them? I’m a selfish bastard. It was all my fault. I destroyed what I had with Rebecca. I lost her because of an argument over my baseball injury when I told her to fuck off.
And it was the last time I ever saw her.
Sabrina glances at my lips, then to my eyes, then back to my lips. I can read her like a book. I know she feels the same as I do, but she keeps wearing that damn mask, her façade, and she won’t ever admit she has feelings for me.
Questions sift through my head as my hand slowly slides under her skirt, feeling the softness of her skin. What will it feel like, her skin on mine? Her lips on my mouth? These legs wrapped around my waist and her breath panting against my ear?
She’s so damn beautiful.
Her
brown eyes meet mine through her dark lashes. The pull is strong, and I can’t resist her anymore.
I want her. No, I need her. All of her. But I’m freaking the hell out, and my disobedient body is not listening to my brain.
I slowly lean in, and before she says another word, I press my lips to hers. My hand wraps around the nape of her neck as I lower her onto the blanket. She gives and I take while our tongues touch and move in sync.
She’s kissing me as if I’m her lifeline with so much passion I can feel it in the hollow of my chest. I love and hate how I’m feeling. But I don’t care. This feels right. We feel right.
“Spencer,” she whispers between kisses, and it’s a fucking turn on as my name passes her lips.
Sabrina’s fingers thread through my hair, sending a jolt straight to my dick. I may have initiated the kiss, but I’m letting her lead. Her tongue brushes up against mine and she tastes so damn good.
Her arms wrap around me and I don’t want to let her go. The warmth of her body fits perfectly against mine. I’m savoring every second I have with her.
I want her. Here and now. But will she let this go further?
“Tell me to stop, Sabs.” I give her an out and hope she won’t take it.
Seeing her tonight, in the dark, as she mourned her parents did something to my insides, something I can’t explain. If I continue, I’m a douchebag for taking advantage of her vulnerability.
“Just tell me what to do,” I tell her.
“If we . . . things will change.” She touches my face with her soft hands, and I kiss her fingers when they cross over my mouth. “Do you want that?”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“But what if it is,” she replies.
“But what if it turns out to be the best thing we ever did?”
“I’m scared.”
“What are you scared of, Buttercup?”
“I’m scared to love you more than I already do,” she admits, and I stop, our lips just a whisper apart.
“You love me?” I ask, and she hesitantly nods. “Dare me.” I hope she hears my plea loud and clear.
“Dare you to do what?”
“Whatever your heart desires.”
She cups my face with her soft hands. “I dare you to love me back.”
My lips are on hers without another second passing. Her tongue is sweet, and I savor it all, cataloging this moment in my memory. One thing Sabrina is right about, this will change everything. How much is the question.
She will return to San Francisco, I’ll go back to Los Angeles, and tonight will be a memory I will cherish forever.
We recover our senses at the same time the rain pours down. We quickly stand to our feet, gather the blanket, the brown bag, and the empty bottles, and then run to my car.
We’re soaking wet as we sit in the car. Breathless and panting, and I swear my heart is beating loud enough for her to hear over the rain.
Where did that downpour come from? And where the hell did that wave of emotion go, to suppress my will power? Was the rain a sign for us to stop?
The water pelts the window and I keep my hands on the steering wheel because if I touch her skin again, I will not stop.
I kissed Sabrina. And holy fuck, she’s a good kisser.
What the hell was I thinking? She’s my sister’s best friend, for Pete’s sake. She’s my best friend.
Being with her under the moonlight, snuggled in my arms, felt right. Sure, we’d done that many times as kids lying on the grass and looking up at the sky, hoping to catch a falling star. But in that moment, something shifted between us.
We’ve never felt awkward with each other. That’s the one thing I love about Sabrina. But as she sits in the passenger seat next to me, we are anything but comfortable.
The rain and our breathing are the only sounds breaking the silence as we sit in the darkness and the confines of the small space. My eyes go to Sabrina’s profile as she keeps looking forward.
Wet strands stick to her face, and her dark brown hair drips over her shoulders. Her chest rises and falls.
This whole situation is so fucking confusing, and guilt assaults my emotions. Kiss her and lose her forever. Or deny what feels so right and keep her as my friend.
Deep in my gut, I know I fucked up. I shouldn’t have kissed Sabrina. When she asked me about how Los Angeles was treating me, I was going to tell her I met someone. But one look in her eyes and the way she snuggled in my arms, I knew I’d have to call Tanya and break it off with her.
I’m an asshole and I’ll probably go to hell. I can’t help it. No matter how much I denied it, it’s always been Sabrina. She’s everything I want and need. But she deserves better than me.
My brain is a chaotic mess. I’m looking at the girl who broke her leg at thirteen, who is now a sexy and gorgeous woman. And the way her lips felt against mine was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
She’s picking at her nail and biting her bottom lip.
What is she thinking?
Does she hate me for kissing her?
Does she want me to kiss her again?
Does she feel the same?
I shake the thoughts from my head, shift slowly to face her. “Sabrina,” I mumble. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t say it was a mistake,” she says, still facing forward, not meeting my eyes.
Okay. I won’t.
“I don’t know what came over me. We’ve been friends since we started crawling, and this kind of shit doesn’t happen between friends. You’re . . . you!” I rub my face with my hands.
“If the rain hadn’t come, would you still be kissing me?” Her voice is low and soft.
“The hardest thing I will do tonight is walk away from you after what we just did.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear and turns to face me. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you. I’ve heard all the girls in high school talk about it. And now that I know,” she lets out a nervous laugh, “they’re right. You are a good kisser.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, Buttercup.” I stifle a chuckle.
“Can I ask you something, Spence?”
“Sure, anything. Do you want me to apologize again? Tell you I won’t ever do it again, even though I fucking want to?”
“Why are you apologizing for something you want to do? And why won’t you do it again?”
“What I have with you, I don’t want to ruin based on impulse. You deserve better than that because you’re Callie’s best friend. My best friend. My Buttercup. You’re like fam—”
“Don’t say family,” she says, cutting me off.
“And why not?”
“I wanted to be more to you.”
“But you are more,” I tell her. “You are all those things to me. What we have I don’t want with anyone else.”
“Do you know how many times I wished you would look at me differently? How many times I wished I was the one you bragged about, like all your past girlfriends?”
I reach over and caress her cheek with the back of my hand. “I do brag about you.” At the station, a picture of Sabrina, Callie, and me rests on my desk. And when the guys pass my desk, they can’t keep their comments to themselves. “Sabrina, I fucking love you.”
Her breath hitches. “What?”
“I said, I love you.”
She reaches over and cups my jaw. Her eyes lock onto mine with so much desire and longing. It’s as if all the air was sucked out of this car and I’m suffocating. I take a hold of her wrist, kiss her palm, and pull her closer.
Without warning, my lips are on hers. She doesn’t back down. I’m hoping she will push me away, tell me to stop, or slap me across my face.
Instead, she angles her head and kisses me back. There’s a sigh or was it a moan? Hell, it doesn’t matter because I’m kissing my Buttercup, and she tastes so damn good. My fingers tangle in her wet hair and she has no idea what she’s doing to me.
She lic
ks my bottom lip and opens her mouth. An invitation I take so I can stroke her tongue with mine.
Holy fuck, Sabrina can kiss.
We should stop this. We need to talk about what we just confessed. But she keeps kissing me, her tongue tangling with mine and nipping at my lip. She should be the one to stop this. Yes, that’s it. She needs to slap me for sticking my tongue in her mouth. She needs to stop wrapping her hands around my neck as her fingernails graze my skin, sending chills straight to my already hard dick.
My mouth moves down the column of her neck to her collarbone, leaving kisses in its trail. Her sweet scent fills my nose as I breathe her in. It’s all so familiar because it’s Sabrina, yet it’s so foreign because this Sabrina is different.
“Spencer,” she whispers seductively. “I want you. Please.”
“Sabrina, are you sure?” I ask between kisses.
“Yes,” she says against my mouth.
We climb over the console to the backseat and she straddles my hard cock in the confines of my pants. Is this really going to happen?
I’m a cluster of fucked up emotions. I don’t have a care in the world about right or wrong. Feelings are stirring in me. I can’t bury them or push them aside. Her pull is so strong, and I can’t deny her, nor do I want to. And all I want to feel is her skin on mine.
I slip my hand under her damp blouse and lightly stroke her breast. I lift the fabric over her head, and it reveals her skin. Sabrina looks like an angel with the dim moon illuminating her beautiful face. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me through her dark lashes.
I pull down the lace bra and I take her nipple in my mouth. My tongue strokes and licks it as her fingernails scrape my scalp, sending goosebumps down my spine.
There’s no more space between us after we quickly unbuckle, unzip, and unbutton our wet clothes. My pants and boxers are wrinkled at my ankles, her skirt is hiked up to her waist and somehow, she removed her panties.
Sabrina’s legs straddle my thighs and she sinks her wet, warm pussy over my hard cock and she begins to move. A groan escapes and I must hold back the wave of sensation so I don’t blow like a sixteen-year-old boy.
Distracted: An Everyday Heroes Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 4