Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

My hands snaked under her shirt, my palms gliding up her sides as I pushed it over her head.

  Oh God.

  My mouth came down aggressively against Lisa’s as I palmed her breast in my hand, anything to fill up and shut out whatever was resisting this from happening tonight.

  Lisa ripped my shirt over my head, went for the buttons on my jeans while I kicked off my shoes. Her skirt was on the floor, and I was pushing her to her bed.

  I climbed between her legs.

  The only thing I saw was Elizabeth. Could do nothing but imagine what she’d look like lying there, instead.

  How soft she would feel.

  How this would feel different.

  I could never have Elizabeth, but still, I knew I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t fuck some girl while I pictured Elizabeth’s face. It was wrong—disrespectful to Lisa—but what I really cared about was the overwhelming feeling that it was even more disrespectful to Elizabeth.

  Unwelcomed hands were at my waistband, pushing down my underwear. I struggled back, got to my knees, and pinned her arms at her sides.

  For a moment, confusion filled Lisa’s eyes, before a slow, sexy grin took her over, misunderstanding seeded in the manipulated compliance.

  I dropped my head, and a heavy, regretful breath forced from my lungs. “I can’t do this, Lisa.”

  The confusion was back, a mix of hurt and anger and embarrassment.

  “What did I do? I don’t understand.”

  I released her arms, and she reached for me, her fingertips just grazing across my bare chest as her eyes and mouth implored, “Please.”

  I understood it then.

  Saw it.

  All the times I’d done this, and then walked out the door, left some girl alone after I’d used her up, many times when I didn’t even know her name.

  Was I really blind enough to believe that they were just like me, that one night was all they ever wanted, and that they never gave me a second thought once I was gone?

  Because when I looked down at the blow I’d just inflicted on Lisa, I knew that was not the case. She’d thought of me, wanted me.

  “I’m sorry, Lisa.” Scooting off her bed, I fumbled to get back into my jeans. I grabbed my shirt from the floor and tugged it over my head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  She looked away, to the wall, and covered her breasts with the drape of her arm. “You’re an asshole.”

  The statement came so quiet, yet its truth consumed the room.

  “I know.” I guess it was something I’d always known. It was just the first time I’d admitted it.

  I left her there, took the stairs because I needed to burn off some of this unspent energy.

  Elizabeth had gotten under my skin. Exposed who I really was just by reflecting her light onto me.

  She didn’t have to voice it. It was spoken in the way she resisted me the first day, in the assumptions she made that weren’t really assumptions at all because they were nothing but the truth. It was clear in the way her eyes clouded with a token of distrust, a barrier she had to place between us to protect herself from me.

  Because Elizabeth knew she could just as easily be like Lisa, left alone upstairs, instead of my friend who I couldn’t wait to see again.

  I ran back to my apartment and let myself into the darkness. I went straight into the bathroom and blasted the showerhead, turning it as hot as it would go.

  I shucked my clothes.

  Steam filled the room, and I stepped into the water and welcomed its relief. Hot sheets blanketed my back, and I raised my head, let the waves flow down my face, let it wash the night from my body.

  Stepping from the shower, I toweled myself off, slipped into a pair of boxers, and fell back against my bed.

  I lay, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what the hell I was supposed to do. I was completely mixed up, but in some strange way, I felt okay with it.

  Shaking my head at myself, I grabbed my phone. It was just before one in the morning. Earlier than I normally would come crawling back to my apartment, but late enough that Elizabeth would probably think I was complete freak if I gave in and called her just to check that she’d had a good night.

  Instead, I tapped out a message and pushed send.

  I was shocked when my phone buzzed a few seconds later. I couldn’t help but smile when I read the words.

  * * *

  Elizabeth: Sleep well, Christian.

  * * *

  j

  * * *

  ELIZABETH

  * * *

  A tiny sigh escaped my lips as I clutched my phone to my chest. Darkness crawled along my ceiling, all except for a thin strip of light that slanted off to one side as it snuck through the top edge of the blind.

  It turned out I was right about Christian.

  There was no doubt the first impressions were true, too, the ones about the girls and how quickly he flew through them. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I could so easily end up one of them.

  But beyond that, he was kind.

  And he needed a friend.

  I reread the text I received a few minutes earlier.

  * * *

  Christian: Wanted to tell you how much tonight meant to me. TY Elizabeth.

  * * *

  It was late, though the city was still alive, horns and sirens echoing outside my door, magnifying how intensely quiet it was within the walls of my apartment.

  And I felt warm. Good. Thankful.

  Thankful Christian had become a part of my life.

  Christian

  The next Friday, Elizabeth and I were back at the café where we first met. Even though we’d just met here yesterday, we decided to meet again tonight so we could cram in a few extra hours of studying for our first American Government quiz next week.

  Elizabeth downed the last of her coffee. “So, I think I’ve finally got it,” she said, though her tone hinted that she was only trying to convince herself, her head nodding as if she were mentally calculating another problem.

  Of course, I’d spent most of the time trying to help her with her calculus homework, trying to ingrain these concepts that continued to try to slip right over the top of her head.

  Finally, it seemed to have snapped into place, this light flicking on and warming the honey of her eyes. I’d just sat there, staring as she came to understanding, wondering why I felt like some inflated hero when she looked at me like that.

  Now she chatted ceaselessly, as if I’d managed to toss the weight from her shoulders. “I really didn’t think I would. I mean, I studied it again and again and it just wouldn’t sink in.”

  She climbed to her feet and grabbed her backpack from the floor. She flopped it on the table and began stuffing her things inside. There was nothing ditsy in her words, just this thankfulness that oozed from her mouth. “Thank God I met you, Christian.”

  She glanced up at me with a gentle smile.

  I was so right on about her. She was the nicest girl, innocent and sweet.

  And sexy as all hell.

  That was the only problem with this whole friendship thing. How could I reconcile the respect I had for her and want to peel the clothes from her body every single time I saw her?

  I was pretty sure something in that equation didn’t add up.

  I smirked at her just because I liked the way she blushed every time I did. “Now you owe me.”

  She blushed deeper at the insinuation and dropped her head, and I couldn’t help but wonder just how innocent she was. I knew I had to watch myself, to keep everything that wanted to push its way out in check if I was going to successfully walk this fine line.

  I gathered my things. “You ready?”

  She looked up as the redness from her face slowly seeped away. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  We turned and headed in the direction of her apartment.

  She glanced at me, smiling. “So, are you walking me home?”

  “It’s on my way.”

  She laughed because we bot
h knew it really wasn’t, though it wasn’t completely out of the way, either. Just in the wrong direction by two short blocks.

  No big deal.

  We wandered casually through the evening crowd, neither of us in a hurry, just satisfied to be in the other’s company. I liked that it could be so easy with her.

  Elizabeth continued to talk as we approached her building, while my attention darted to the guy leaning against her wall as we passed.

  Elizabeth didn’t seem to even notice him, her consideration fully on me as she ambled toward her door. But there was just something that didn’t sit right.

  He tilted his chin up, enough for his eyes to take her in.

  This instinctual protectiveness rose up from somewhere inside me, an urge to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her to my side.

  Of course, Elizabeth had to live in the shittiest building she possibly could, and on top of it, lived by herself.

  I hated it.

  She paused at her door, rocked back on her heels, and hooked her thumbs in her backpack straps. “So maybe I’ll see you around this weekend?”

  My eyes went back to the guy against the wall. There were plenty of freaks in New York City. Most seemed harmless and didn’t garner a second thought.

  Not this guy.

  There was just something about him that nagged at my consciousness.

  I looked back at Elizabeth. Not a chance in hell would I leave her here by herself.

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t have any plans tonight. Why don’t we order in and watch a movie, or something?”

  Her eyes narrowed in speculation, as if she was thrown off by my sudden suggestion.

  I looked back at the guy who was obviously watching us. I guessed I was thrown, too.

  “Two Fridays in a row?” She peeked back at me with her brow raised high, then pulled the door opened and held it wide for me as she passed, already expecting me to follow. “Are you sure you’re not trying to get into my panties?”

  I choked out a laugh as I followed her in.

  Did she have any idea how that sounded coming from her mouth? I shook my head and jogged up the stairs behind her.

  Apparently, Elizabeth was missing a really important distinction. I wasn’t trying to get into her panties. I was trying desperately not to.

  She let us into her apartment. It was messier than last week, a week’s worth of clothes strewn around on the floor.

  “Sorry. Let me pick up really quick. I wasn’t expecting company.”

  She dashed around the small room, plucking up shirts and underwear and random mismatched socks. She balled them up in a pile her arms before she heaved out a satisfied breath as she tossed them into the hamper against the wall. “All done.”

  God. Did she really have to be so fucking adorable?

  “So”—she swung her hands out to clap them in front of her—“are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  She brushed past me as she wandered into the kitchen area. She opened a drawer where she’d stuffed a bunch of menus. “What are you in the mood for?”

  I wandered over and sat on the edge of her bed. “Chinese?”

  “Sounds good to me,” she agreed. Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she read over a menu as she walked across the room, then dropped down beside me without thought. “I think this is the best place.”

  I gestured with my chin toward the menu. “Whatever works for me.”

  Her face was all knit up in concentration as she studied, mumbled, “So what do you like?”

  “Anything beef.”

  She laughed and drew out a quiet, “Okay.”

  We settled on Mongolian beef, sesame chicken, and eggrolls. We chatted until the door rang, and I jumped up to pay.

  She tried to stop me, but I insisted. “Am I not allowed to buy dinner for my friend?”

  Finally, she conceded and grabbed a couple plates from the kitchen. We kicked off our shoes and sat cross-legged on her bed, using the middle as a table. We opened the containers and filled them as we talked.

  Again, we hit this rhythm. A tempo I’d never found with anyone else. One where I didn’t have to pretend I was someone I didn’t want to be. One where she wasn’t shy, and her genuine smile lit up the shadowy room.

  Elizabeth gave me all the little details of the city she’d grown up in, her favorite places, and the many ways it was different from here. I could feel her love for San Diego in the pitch of her voice. More obvious was her love for the people there.

  “Yeah, the water’s always a little cold, but you get used to it,” she said as she took another bite.

  I inclined my head so I could study her, watch her face as it lifted and fell, twisted in animation as she spoke.

  “I can’t believe in all the places you’ve traveled, you’ve never been to San Diego,” she said.

  “I’ve been to L.A. a bunch of times, but for some reason, San Diego was never on the agenda.” I shrugged and dipped an eggroll into sweet and sour sauce.

  Her eyes narrowed in thought. “You should go sometime. I think you’d like it there.”

  “Yeah . . . I think I’d like that.”

  She smiled.

  So beautiful. I was still trying to adjust to the decision I’d made, this commitment to our friendship and swearing off girls at the same time. I knew they didn’t quite match, and if I tried to explain it to someone, they would think I was completely insane.

  But somewhere deep inside of me, it made sense. I figured that was the only thing that mattered.

  “Do you think you’re going to move back there once you finish school? Is that where you want to practice?” I asked.

  Elizabeth kind of frowned, as if the suggestion of not returning was completely absurd.

  “Definitely.” She took a bite of chicken before she continued, “I mean, you know I love it here, and getting to move to New York has been the best experience of my life, but I can’t imagine not going back home. My family is too important to me.”

  “What happens if some guy comes along and sweeps you off your feet, and for some reason, he can’t move to San Diego?”

  So maybe I wanted to play Devil’s advocate.

  Her lips pressed together, and a narrow line dented between her brows. She paused like she were truly contemplating my question. “Then I guess somehow that guy would have to become just as important to me as my family. Maybe more important. I guess that’s what marriage is all about . . . sacrifice . . . giving up what you want for the other person.”

  Her eyes were sincere as she looked across at me.

  I was stunned. “You’d really give up what you wanted for some guy?”

  This time, she didn’t have to contemplate. Instead, her frown deepened, and she turned the question on me. “Wouldn’t you? If you really loved someone?”

  “I think marriage is more about compromise. Meeting in the middle. Being compatible.”

  She scoffed a little, kind of shook her head as she soaked up the last of her sweet and sour sauce with her eggroll. “I guess you could look at it that way.”

  I laughed. “Look at us, playing philosophers. I don’t think anyone has it figured out.”

  Her face softened. “Yeah, I think you’re probably right.”

  Elizabeth tossed her napkin to her plate. “That was really good. Are you finished?”

  I nodded. “Yeah,” then mumbled, “Thanks,” when she grabbed my plate.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she countered with a grin as she got to her feet.

  While Elizabeth rinsed our plates in the sink, I stuffed the empty containers and garbage in the plastic bag left discarded on the floor and tied the handles in a knot so it wouldn’t spill.

  Stuffed, I lay back with my feet flat on Elizabeth’s floor. A minute later, Elizabeth crawled to her bed, her sweet face passing above mine as she climbed up to lean against the wall. She drew her knees up to her chest.

  Releasing my satisfaction in a sigh, I patted my stomach
, feeling relaxed after the long week of classes and studying.

  It was cool it was this way between us, without expectations, just quiet and ease.

  I glanced up to the left and caught Elizabeth staring down at me. Red flooded her cheeks, and she dropped her chin.

  Or maybe there were all kinds of expectations and Elizabeth was just fighting them, too.

  I turned away because I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable with me there. “What do you think of New York now that you’ve been here for a while? Living up to all those childhood fantasies?” I asked toward her ceiling.

  “Sure . . . more stressful than I thought, but fantasies are always that way, aren’t they? A little disappointing?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I just can’t wait for winter.” Excitement surfaced in her voice.

  “Why?”

  She released this little surprised sound, as if I should have already known exactly what she was talking about. “Christian . . . the tree and ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

  If it wasn’t so out of character for her, I would have sworn she’d added a little duh at the end.

  I squinted up behind me, looking at her upside down. “Ice skating? Are you joking, Elizabeth? You come all the way to New York City, and the one thing you’re excited to do is go ice skating? You have to be the biggest nerd I’ve ever met,” I teased.

  Her face puckered in offense, before her mouth dropped open with it. It was cute. Really cute.

  “Nerd,” I mouthed, unable to stop myself from provoking her more.

  Her mouth dropped open farther, and I struggled to keep from laughing, but I couldn’t hold it in when Elizabeth suddenly lunged at me, her little fingers coming out to jab me in the sides.

  “Nerd, huh? Well you”—she did her best to tickle me, to dig her fingers in, while I did my best at shielding myself—“are . . . a . . . jerk.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, splayed my hands out to try to deflect her assault. Her hair fell all around my face, the weight of her tiny body pressed over mine.

  We were both convulsing with laughter and exertion.