by T Gephart
I liked his idea, and it wasn’t only thoughtful but incredibly sweet. Not at all what I was expecting. “That’s a fantastic idea. But I get to buy.”
He was ready with his protest, my hand covering his mouth before he had a chance to tell me no. “You paid for most of my groceries, letting me pay for dinner seems fair.”
My hand was peeled away from his mouth, letting him vocalize what I’d tried to stop. “But it was my idea, you don’t think I’m going to let you take credit for my idea do you? You can buy me dinner next time, but this one is on me. I get to be the hero tonight, baby.”
I was almost positive it was bullshit, but it kind of sounded like him too. He did like to get credit, especially if an idea was his. So part of me thought it was more about making him look good than not letting me pay. “One way or another, I will be paying you back,” I insisted, making it clear I wasn’t a push over.
“Good, I’ll look forward to it. Make sure you take me somewhere decent though, I’m not interested in some fru-fru place where I can’t pronounce the menu.” He smirked, agreeing to let me take him to dinner.
To say I was surprised he hadn’t asked for a blowjob as payment was an understatement. I’d assumed the minute I’d mentioned paying him back he would have chosen currency of a sexual nature. I didn’t even blame him; I probably would have too given the choice. But hearing him agree to dinner made me irrationally excited and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I really wanted the experiment to work, or possibly I just really liked spending time with him and hoped he enjoyed my company too.
I held out my hand deciding to make him shake, trying not to look ridiculously happy. “Deal.”
“Really?” His eyes dropped to my hand and laughed. “Okay, babe, whatever it takes.” He shook my hand. “Now let’s go.”
He led me to the back of the hotel, where there was a small parking lot. It had obviously been used in the past for staff or special guests, the light not great as we made our way to his car.
“So this steak place,” I asked, waiting for him to unlock the passenger side door. “They have dessert?”
A grin spread across his lips. “Would I take you somewhere that didn’t? You know I’m a big fan of sweet.”
If what he’d tossed into my cart that morning was anything to go by, it was a wonder he wasn’t a hundred pounds overweight and rocking borderline diabetes. But I had a hunch that wasn’t what he meant. “Good. I’m looking forward to it already.”
He waited until I was settled into my seat before walking around and sliding into the driver’s side. The ignition rumbled to life, his speakers blasting Jane’s Addiction before he turned it down.
“You don’t have to turn it down, I love this band.” I fastened my seatbelt, reaching my hand across and edging up the volume.
“Really? I’d have picked you for more a mainstream Top 40 kind of girl.” He looked genuinely surprised, nodding in appreciation as I sang along with the lyrics.
“I like all kinds of music but 90’s alternative is my favorite stuff. Nirvana, Jane’s, Stone Temple Pilots, Soundgarden—it’s all I listen to when I workout.”
“Get out of here!” His voice lifted, punching over the vocals of the song as he glanced at me. “90’s alternative is my thing. I swear, my playlist is loaded with it; it’s what I put on when I need to get in the zone. And I’m not even going to pretend that I didn’t cry like a baby when we lost Weiland and Cornell.”
The death of the two lead singers was something I’d cried about too. Not only because we’d lost two amazing artists, but because their music and lyrics had spoken to me in a way that current music didn’t seem to.
Katy thought I was insane, preferring “happier” music as she put it. Translation—anyone who’d won X-Factor or American Idol. She’d also threatened to have me committed when I’d shown her my tattoo, telling me that I would regret it and why the hell did it have to be so big.
“That’s so cool, Dallas. I bet your playlist is awesome.” I rolled my head toward him, reaching out and squeezing his thigh.
He nodded, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “When we do that tattoo of yours, I’ll let you wear my Beats and you can find out.”
I couldn’t help but smile, the idea of a new tattoo done by Dallas while listening to his curated playlist sounded amazing.
The rest of the trip was relaxed, neither of us talking as we listened to music. It was different than it had been in the past, not just with Dallas, but with people in general.
Almost everyone knew me as the party girl, the one who was always out and doing something crazy. And for the most part, that was true. But every once in a while I craved a time where I wouldn’t have to fill the silence. Where just being there would be enough. Not for them, but for me.
I’d never expected that moment to come while I was driving toward a steak house with a guy I’d assumed was only ever going to be a one-night stand listening to “Been Caught Stealing” blaring through the speakers.
Dallas
THE NIGHT HAD BEEN AWESOME.
And I wasn’t just saying that because she looked drop-dead gorgeous, although, it had taken some serious mental strength not to stare at her all night.
The dress she had on took everything I’d loved about the top she’d worn earlier, and put it on steroids. It was tight, showed off every freaking curve of her body, and of course had an open back.
No bra.
But for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t just her amazing tits that got my attention. Sure, I looked, because I hadn’t become blind in the last twenty-four hours. But it was her sexy back tattoo that got me thirty levels of hard. Didn’t even care I hadn’t been the artist to put it there, so freaking turned on that she had it on display, not giving a shit who saw it and what they thought.
That kind of confidence made me so hard I wasn’t positive I was going to get through the night without needing to excuse myself to go jerk off.
But I managed to keep my shit together, kept my dirty thoughts to myself and had possibly the best dinner I’d ever had.
Kitty and I talked about music while we ate steak and then shared a slice of eight-layer chocolate cake. It was hilarious, the two of us attacking the cake like it’d owed us money—it was a fork match to the last bite.
I didn’t even tell her how fucking sexy she looked with chocolate on her lips, too busy laughing at her when she said she was going to marry the cake and have little cupcake babies.
It wasn’t until later that it occurred to me that I still had that folded up list of conversational questions tucked in my back pocket. Not my actual pocket, because I was fairly sure it was in another pair of jeans I’d tossed into the laundry hamper. I’d have to remember to pull out the paper before I washed them.
But as I drove her back to her place, there was no other way I would have preferred it. I didn’t even care that I probably wasn’t going to sleep with her, the status of how handsy we were allowed to get with our agreement still up in the air.
She didn’t ask me to come in but I followed her to her door. I’d spent the last two nights there and I kind of hoped there might be a third. At the very least I was going to kiss her goodnight. I mean, we’d already been doing that and I didn’t see the point in stopping.
The minute the door had shut, I pulled her toward me. I wasn’t sure what it was—the amazing night we’d had or the quietness of her apartment—but I felt like if I waited another second I was going to lose my mind.
She whimpered against my mouth, taken by surprise but only needing a second to catch up. The softness of her lips and her body, an invitation I wasn’t capable of turning down.
My hands grabbed her ass, pulled her up onto me, her legs wrapping around my hips exactly like I’d wanted. I wasn’t sure where it was going—too busy doing to think—but I could keep kissing her exactly like that for hours if she’d let me.
Our mouths tangled, tongues and lips fighting for position as I felt myself get hard.
It had been a challenge all night, to keep my dick from straining against the front of my jeans. Between the sexy dress, how amazing she looked and how fucking adorable she’d been when we’d been looking at the art, I’d put in an effort that seriously deserved an award.
As for dinner, well that couldn’t be helped. Watching her eat chocolate cake while she moaned in delight was only going to get one result from me.
Rock. Hard.
But I was able to hide it under the table so it didn’t count.
Didn’t have that kind of cover anymore and not that I wanted it, my hard-on grinding against her as we continued to kiss.
Her back arched, giving me more contact as one of my hands slid from her ass to her thigh and lifted the hem of her dress. It was short but not short enough, needing the thing bunched up around her waist so there were less barriers.
The situation was almost critical by the time I’d backed her against the wall.
Man, I wanted her. Wanted to kiss her and watch her writhe against me while I made her come. I didn’t even care if it was with my dick or my hand, I just wanted to hear those breathy little noises and know I’d been the reason.
“Wait.” She stopped, lifting her head away as her hand pressed against my chest. “This isn’t what we’re supposed to be doing.”
“I don’t care.” My lips moved to her neck, no longer giving a shit about anything other than continuing exactly what we were doing.
She pushed again, this time getting my attention. “No, we can’t.”
There wasn’t any hesitation in her voice. No maybe, like she wanted to but didn’t want to say. She was saying no, and was very clear about it.
I stopped immediately, pulling back to look at her. “Kitty, I’m sorry. I thought . . .”
There was no point finishing the sentence because I hadn’t been thinking. Or at least I hadn’t been thinking with the part of my brain that mattered.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I lowered her to the floor, her feet making contact but she kept her hands on me.
“No, I wanted it too, trust me.” She shook her head, a smile edging up her lips. “I just . . . so this is really stupid.”
She blew out a frustrated breath, her eyes on me the whole time. “This is what usually happens. I meet a guy, we have an awesome time, and then it ends up with sex.” She gestured between us and to what we were about to do.
“And then it ends badly for me, and I didn’t want that to happen for us. You’re a really good friend, Dallas. And I like spending time with you. This crazy idea we had about trying to help each other is the most fun I have had in a long time. But you have to know if we sleep together now, that’s going to be over.”
I got what she was trying to say, but didn’t think it applied to us. We were different; there was no pretense with us, no bullshit. We’d already had sex before and still managed to be friends, so why she thought it was going to crash and burn didn’t make sense.
“Not necessarily. No one has a crystal ball.” I was honest, because that was what we did. And the truth of the matter was that neither of us knew what would happen in the future.
She eyed me suspiciously, probably guessing I didn’t buy that us having sex was a bad idea. And maybe it was because I was so caught up in wanting to be with her that I couldn’t see reason or maybe the reason—whatever that was—didn’t exist.
“How many ex-girlfriends do you still talk to and are on good terms with?” she asked, no accusation in her tone.
I laughed, pretending like I couldn’t remember. “Jesus, Kitty, I don’t know. It’s not like I keep tabs on that kind of thing. A few.”
“A few?” she asked, not buying my bullshit.
“Fine, not many. But that’s because I usually end up with fruitcakes. I can’t be held responsible for our lack of friendship if they’re crazy.” My past history with psycho exes was the reason Kitty and I had been spending so much time together in the first place. But it wasn’t because I had planned it that way, it was just the luck of the draw and I’d just been unlucky.
“Well I’m friends with none.” She leveled me with a stare. “None, Dallas. If they don’t end up being total losers, the only reason they keep my number is on the off chance they need a booty call.”
“Then they’re fucking idiots,” I fired back, pissed off on her behalf that some douchebag would treat her like that. Sure she was hot, but she was more than a slamming body and a pretty face.
She rested her head against the wall, sighing and blowing out a breath in frustration. “I’m sorry, I guess tonight when I was out with you. It just felt like we had something . . . real. It didn’t feel like a date, or that you were trying to get into my pants. You are so easy to be around, you make me laugh so much. It’s like I can shut the world off and just be there in the moment. And I don’t want for it to end by me doing something stupid.”
“Babe, I am glad you felt that way.” With no intention of kissing her again, I moved closer and brushed her hair out of her face. “I had an awesome night too, and you’re right, it didn’t feel like a date.”
I couldn’t put my finger on why; I just knew that it felt different. Like she understood me, and I understood her. Neither of us attempted to impress each other. Neither of us had to try.
“Wow, did we just friend zone each other?” I laughed, the idea that I’d voluntarily give up sex with someone like Kitty so freaking out of character I was positive I must have been dreaming. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”
She laughed too, her beautiful smile lighting up her face. “Yeah, I think we did. And as much as I’d love to sleep with you Dallas, I’d really miss you as my friend.”
“Yeah? I would be pretty bummed too if you suddenly started hating me,” I admitted, loving the last few days. “Especially with Josh getting married, I doubt he’s going to have much time for my shenanigans. I’m going to need someone who has my back.”
And as much as Josh was my brother, I knew without a doubt that his soon-to-be wife would come first.
As it should be.
But I wasn’t going to pretend that a part of me wasn’t going to miss having him as my wingman. Just knowing that all I had to do was call, and he’d be there no matter what mess I’d gotten myself into.
“Soooooooo.” I deliberately left the sentence hanging, not sure where that put us and our agreement. “We going to stop hanging out?”
Her eyes flashed to mine. “God, no. Of course not. I love hanging out with you. I just think we need to do it without it turning into sex. At least not until our one month agreement.” She stopped, thinking a minute before qualifying, “Or anything close to sex.”
“Yep, got it. Totally friendship.” I held up my hands as I backed away. “Nothing even close to sex.” I said the words I wasn’t convinced of.
She laughed, amused by my very literal hands-off approach, and stepped away from the wall. “As much as I’d love for you to stay, you should probably go.” Her eyes moved to the door.
I didn’t want to leave either but I figured it was a good idea. “Yeah, I can do that. Hey,” I paused, biting my lip. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking it, let alone even saying it. But regardless of the outcome, I wasn’t going to start being a pussy. “Are you sure you’re still going to want to go through with this one-month thing? Not that I’m trying to talk you out of it, but I don’t want you to think I’ll be pissed or anything.”
There was no denying I wanted her.
Today.
Next week.
Next month.
That wouldn’t change, and I knew it to be undeniably true.
Because no matter what happened, how many nights we spoke about music, or ate dinners where we fought over dessert—my dick would always think it was a good idea.
But make no mistake; it wasn’t worth losing her over.
“Dallas.” She took a step closer and rubbed her hand across my cheek. “Of course I will. Hopefully by then I’ll have worked out a way to d
o it and not have it mess everything up.”
Yeah, I wasn’t convinced but I wasn’t arguing either. “Okay, baby.” I kissed her forehead. “I’m going to go home. Let me know if you want to hang out tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s okay, tomorrow is your day off. You should go out with your friends or . . . or whatever it is you usually do on your day off.”
It didn’t need to be said what my days off usually consisted of. Catching up with friends, drinking at a bar or two and then ended up in bed with some chick I’d usually picked up at the bar. It wasn’t every weekend, but it was close to it. Which was going to make it interesting because for the first time in forever, the idea wasn’t appealing.
“Yeah, well I don’t have any plans so if you change your mind, let me know. Talk soon.”
I fought the urge to reach down and check my balls as I walked to her front door. Not sure when it happened but I was fairly sure I’d lost them somewhere. Lucky for me there weren’t many witnesses—Kitty not the kind of girl to say anything—so I could get myself home and work out what the hell was wrong with me.
“See ya, Dallas.” She waved, watching me grab the knob and open the door.
“Yep. See ya.” Could I sound any more ridiculous? “Bye.”
Before I could embarrass myself any further, I left. I jogged down to my car, hit the ignition and drove myself home. I wasn’t sure when the last time I’d been there that early on a Saturday night was. Not only was I going home early, but I was doing it alone, and the kicker—I didn’t care it was early, I was home or that I wasn’t with some random girl.
I walked into my empty apartment, tossed the keys on my kitchen counter and went straight to my room to strip off. I was in for the night, so I might as well be comfortable, my clothes dumped in a corner as I picked up my sketchbook and some pencils and made my way back to the living room.
