Her eyes were all soft and playful, and I was thinking how damned good it’d feel to kiss her right now.
Would one kiss really make that much a difference? Change this dynamic? Steal her from me?
As if those questions had just played across my face, Elizabeth jerked away, tucking her hair back behind both ears as she straightened herself.
I kind of smiled at her as she slinked back. Then in a flash, she snuck up and slapped me on the stomach. “Jerk.”
“Ow!” I clutched my stomach, searching for air since she’d knocked it from me, laughed some more. “Not cool, Elizabeth. That was a cheap shot.”
“You deserved it,” she said, laughing as she scooted up the bed, grabbing the remote to flip on the television
I sat up on the edge of the bed, turned around, and plucked the remote from her hand. She had one coming.
“Hey.” She grappled for it, and I just shook my head.
“Don’t even think about it. This is mine.” Smug, I turned back toward the television, leaned with my elbows on my knees and began flipping through the stations.
“Just for that, you’re going ice skating with me,” she mumbled, almost so low I couldn’t hear her.
But I did.
“Not a chance, Elizabeth.”
She toed me in the rib, this playful thing that took my breath away.
I finally picked out a movie, some comedy I’d watched what seemed a thousand times in high school.
Elizabeth raised a brow at my selection.
“Just watch it . . . you’ll think it’s funny. Trust me.”
“Where have I heard that before?”
I chuckled, stood up, and stretched. “Mind if I use your restroom?”
“Go ahead.”
I took a piss, washed my hands, and scrubbed my palms over my face. Really, I should call it, get the hell out of there. Because I was almost too satisfied spending my Friday night there. Especially since I was supposed to meet up with Tom right about then.
He’d have to get over it.
I flipped off the bathroom light as I stepped back into the main room. The only light came from the frames on the TV. Colors flickered over Elizabeth’s face. I climbed to one knee on the bed, stretched so I could peer out the window.
Elizabeth looked up, frowning. “What are you doing?”
My gaze swept the sidewalk. Creepy lurker guy was gone.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, settling back to the bed. I could leave and know Elizabeth would be safe.
Truth was, I didn’t want to.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
Her face kind of crinkled, like she really didn’t understand what was going through my head. I guess I didn’t really, either.
We turned back to the television, and I sat through the movie I could quote verbatim and just listened to Elizabeth laugh.
At first, she tried to contain it, to cover up her reaction, before she let loose. She laughed so hard she rolled to her side, so hard she was wiping her eyes.
Her little bare feet were situated close to my side. I reached out, my fingertips brushing over her ankle. I looked up at her. “I’m really glad I met you, Elizabeth.”
Her eyes smiled. “I’m really glad I met you, too.”
* * *
j
* * *
Faint light filtered into the room. I blinked, orienting myself to my surroundings. A surprised breath escaped my mouth when I realized my nose was pressed to Elizabeth’s belly, her stomach rising and falling in her sleep.
I didn’t know when I’d fallen asleep, but at some point, she must have gotten up to flip off the television. Now she slept on her side, our bodies curled in an extended S, her head at the top of the bed and my feet hanging off the end.
I lifted myself to my elbow, pitched my head to the side to pop my stiff neck.
My eyes traveled the length of Elizabeth’s body. Her shirt had edged up in her sleep, her jeans stretched over her perfect ass.
Black lace and satin pink bows peeked out at me just over the top.
Damn.
I really did want in those panties.
Sighing, I forced myself to climb from her bed and maneuvered her around to cover her with a blanket.
Elizabeth moaned from the depths of sleep and flopped to the other side.
I reached out and brushed her hair back, ran the back of my hand down her face.
Friends.
I nodded as the word clattered through my brain. Then I peeked once more out her window to the vacant sidewalk below.
Maybe I’d overreacted. But could it ever be counted an overreaction when the safety of someone you cared about was at stake?
I glanced back down at her as she slept. No. That was impossible.
I couldn’t imagine something happening to her. Someone hurting her. The thought of it made me sick.
Shit.
Raking my hands through my hair, I released a breath into the quiet of her apartment, gathered my things, and slipped out her door. On the other side, I paused, my hand on the knob. Finally, I jiggled it to make sure it was locked and forced myself down the hall.
Elizabeth
Christian reached across the table and nabbed a fry from my plate. He’d already devoured his entire meal in what seemed less than two minutes.
I tried to smack his hand as he crammed the entire thing into his mouth. “Hey, didn’t your mom teach you any manners?”
He snorted. “Oh, she taught me all kinds of manners. And it’s not like you’re going to eat them.”
I shook my head, unable to grasp how one person could eat so much food. “Seriously, Christian . . . that can’t be healthy.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
I laughed. I really hoped not.
The guy was already too much, this force of energy that still stole my breath when he entered the room.
Over the last four weeks, we’d been hanging out a lot. The friendship we both needed was blossoming, growing, emerging into something indefinable.
I valued it more than I ever believed I could, though remained reserved, fortified behind the barriers I knew instinctively to put into place.
It was an intuitive command to guard my heart and guard it well.
Enforcing that rule had somehow begun to feel hypocritical, a deceitful mask that I hid behind because the thoughts swirling through my head about Christian could not be contained by the definition I’d set for us.
I’d come to depend on his company, thirsted for it, wanted it.
Wanted him.
Days were spent doing my best to ignore the stirring that gripped me inside when I saw him, to ignore how much I wanted to glide my hands over the strength rippling beneath the denim and cloth covering his body.
It was so screwed up, the direction my thoughts veered whenever the man was near, and he was never far because I couldn’t get him out of my head.
Here I’d told him nothing could ever happen between us, while I allowed my mind to go there, to imagine what his back would feel like under my fingers as I clung to him, what my bare skin would feel like against his.
I’d never desired before.
I’d been curious but less than enraptured by the idea of sex, then was left wholeheartedly disillusioned by it in the wake of the pathetic experience I’d had.
Until I met Christian.
Now it throbbed in my consciousness and skimmed along my skin.
I wanted to feel him.
But I sensed it deep.
He would break my heart.
Just sitting here, I understood somehow that he already was.
Slowly, surely, these little fault lines in my defenses were splintering.
Fissuring.
From across the table, I studied Christian, wondering how one person could shift something so dramatically inside of me, scare me and give me this joy I didn’t know what to do with at the same time. How did he make me f
eel the most insecure I’d ever felt in my entire life, yet manage to make me feel the safest in his presence?
“So, how’s your math class going?” Christian wiped a napkin over his mouth, sat back in his chair with a satisfied sigh as he pushed his plate away. Completely casual, he appeared to be unaware of the chaos he created in me.
“Okay, thanks to you.”
A smirk pulled at his mouth. “What would you do without me, Elizabeth?”
“Oh, I don’t know, find another cute boy to help me with math,” I said, anticipating his reaction if I teased him a little.
For a flash, his eyes narrowed. Then a dangerous grin spread across his face. “I’m just dispensable, huh? Easily replaced?” He hunched and lowered, pressed his chest into the table to meet me at eye level, this slow playfulness coming across him. “How about I let you fail next time?”
“Well, how about I feed you the wrong answers when we study for our next government test?” I countered.
He faked a disbelieving laugh, a gentle ribbing that twisted its way straight to my heart. He was so cute like this, like a harmless boy and not the man who made me fearful, not the one who urged me to hold on to my affections, careful not to let them go.
“You’re going to feed me the wrong answers, huh? You?” he challenged.
The entire meal, I’d felt his leg stretched under the table, reaching, giving in to casual brushes, then receding as if they hadn’t happened.
Now, Christian abruptly extended his leg, wove it between my legs, direct and bold.
My breath caught.
It was the closest we’d ever come to an embrace.
I averted my gaze but couldn’t for long because I could feel him staring at me.
His voice dropped. “You, sweet Elizabeth, the most innocent girl I know, are going to feed me the wrong answers? I bet you’ve never even told a lie.”
Heat flooded my face.
He was taunting me, prodding.
Is that what he really thought of me? Innocent?
But honestly, I guessed I was.
Well, maybe not innocent. Just inexperienced.
I had no idea how to play Christian’s games, no idea of what the girls he surrounded himself with were like, although I could only imagine. It had to be my greatest disadvantage. Vulnerability oozed from my consciousness, and I shifted in discomfort.
Christian could devour me whole.
His expression shifted as he edged even closer, his voice a whisper, “Just how innocent are you, Elizabeth?”
It was clear what he was asking, though I couldn’t tell what he hoped the answer to be. Those blue eyes flamed as he waited, his leg burning against the inside of my calf, the air in the restaurant thick.
I slowly shook my head.
“Not that innocent, Christian,” I whispered.
A long blink shielded his eyes, and something like disappointment flitted along the lines of his face before he swallowed and opened his eyes, searching. “How many guys have you been with?”
Embarrassment flashed over my skin, spread over my chest and onto my face.
I averted my gaze.
Why was he doing this to me? We talked so much, most often casually, though at times those conversations turned serious, delving into deeper subjects as we learned more and more about the other. It had always felt like a comfort to have someone to confide in.
But we’d never talked about this.
“Hey,” he murmured, his tone shifting, the softness in his voice coaxing me to look back up at him. “You know all about me.”
Christian lifted one hand, the grimaced smile on his face almost pained, and counted off with his fingers. “Six, twenty-two, or maybe seventy-four.”
They were like little contemptuous checkmarks lifted in the air. “I can’t count that high, remember?” he said. “I’m bound to lose track.”
He was clearly trying to make light of it, but the words held a distinct undertone of hurt. “Don’t you think it’s fair if I know a little bit about you?”
I blew out a slow breath, remembering how I’d put him on the spot before. Friends would know this about each other, anyway, but he and I both knew this wasn’t about us being friends.
“Just one,” I finally said, dipping my head down and to the side to hide the redness I knew would be there, though I couldn’t help but slant my eyes to watch his reaction. “He was my boyfriend for three years.”
I hated the heaviness that crept over me when I thought of Ryan, hated more that Christian had more of an effect on me than Ryan ever had.
“Of course, because I was fifteen and naïve when we started dating, I thought he was the one.”
A bitterness I’d kept concealed for too long broke loose. “He bugged me our entire senior year until I finally gave in right before graduation. I had sex with him three times and all three times were awful. Then he broke up with me. That’s it.”
I shrugged nonchalantly, playing it off as if I hadn’t just divulged the entirety of my pitiful experience with guys and that I hadn’t been a fool to fall for this obvious exploitation.
I was pinned to the chair by Christian’s sudden severity. My chest squeezed as his head tilted just to the side, the depths of that place I was scared to tread exposed.
“Do you still love him?”
I fumbled through the emotions Christian had crashing around inside of me for an answer, unable to discern how I felt. I licked my lips to steady myself.
When I spoke, my voice trembled. “No. I mean, it still hurts because of what he did. I was devastated for about a week, but it wasn’t hard to realize we didn’t have a future together. I just wish he would have broken up with me before he had sex with me. I can’t stop thinking about how stupid I was falling for it.”
“And the asshole didn’t even know how to take care of you,” Christian murmured, the assertion rough and abraded.
His eyes were a destructive force as he stared at me.
There was no questioning what Christian was thinking right then.
A lump grew in my throat, the air between us too thick to swallow.
“You have no idea how badly I want to track down that guy and make him pay for what he did to you . . . for treating you that way.”
His words knocked me back from the physical response flooding my body. I frowned at him. “How is that any different than what you do?”
He blinked a couple times and hefted the air from his lungs. Our faces were so close, I felt it rush across my face. “Maybe there’s no difference . . . I don’t know . . .”
He angled a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. “But I’ve never told anyone I loved them or that I wanted to be with them so they’d have sex with me. I can’t tell you how angry it makes me that he did that to you.”
A tremor rolled through him, something palpable, more than jealousy.
I knew it then.
He truly did care about me.
This friendship was as real as I felt it was.
Maybe there was more to it. Maybe there was something to this simmering attraction that I didn’t know how much longer we could ignore.
But right then, this, him caring about me? It was what mattered.
Christian abruptly withdrew his leg and edged back in his chair.
Because we both understood it. The connection we shared was too important to ruin it by giving into the physical.
I faked a smile. “It’s fine . . . really. I’m over it. It was for the best. Believe me.”
* * *
j
* * *
Time passed so quickly. Before I could make sense of it, November had come. Along with it, the approaching winter had ushered in a new feel in the air.
Christian had become a mainstay in my life, my closest friend, the one who I felt securest with. He was a comfort that wrapped around my body and spread all the way to my bones whenever he was near.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him from where I sat length
wise on his couch. With my back propped up against the arm and my knees bent, I rested my bare feet on the soft suede of the cushions and balanced my calculus book on my thighs.
Christian’s apartment was so much more comfortable than mine, and we’d taken to studying here.
A decent-sized kitchen sat off to the left of the entrance, and the dining nook and living room took up the rest of the open space. Down a small hall to the back was his bedroom and bath.
Where my apartment had one small window over my bed, Christian’s apartment was open, two windows in his living room and one in his bedroom, something that felt like a total luxury.
During the day, it was brighter in here, a natural warmth flooding the room as rays of light slanted in from between the buildings on the opposite side of the street.
And at night . . . I loved it here at night. Lights seeped in, boasting the city and everything it had to offer. Horns blared and voices rose from the sidewalk below.
Christian’s couch had become my spot, and I relished in it now, snuggled against the plush fabric as I tried to maintain focused on my homework.
He sat on the floor, his legs stretched out beneath the coffee table and his back against the sofa. That head of black hair teased me from where it rested just at the juncture of where I had my knees bent.
Tonight, it was all over the place, sticking up in every direction. His hands continually came up to rush through it as if he were frustrated—probably because he was.
If I wanted to, I could reach out and touch, run my fingers through the softness. I could only imagine how his head would tilt back in undeniable pleasure, could almost hear a low rumble emitted from deep within his chest, how the sound would vibrate up my arm and cover me whole.
My hand twitched.
Sometimes that desire was so great I almost gave in to it, but we both always pushed it aside because the friendship we shared was so much greater than any fleeting attraction could ever be.
“I’m never going to get this,” he mumbled.
“Yes, you will. You always do.”
We studied together almost every night, but it wasn’t uncommon for us to get distracted, many times talking into the deep hours of the night about everything and anything.
Take Me To The Beach Page 59