Love You Better

by Brit Benson

  Every single version of the dream ended with us both in tears, a giant irreparable chasm between us. My brain has been fighting off ominous thoughts all day.

  “I’m gonna grab drinks,” Jesse shouts over the music. “Draft special?”

  “Actually, J, can you get me a vodka cranberry with lime?”

  Bailey lets out a celebratory whoop and Jesse flashes me a grin.

  “You gonna get buzzed tonight, V? We gonna have to carry your tipsy ass home?” Jesse shimmies his shoulders and I roll my eyes at him. He’s such a goof.

  “I’ll complete my wing-woman duties first, but yeah, I think I’m gonna let loose a little.”

  “Nah, V. You’re off the hook tonight. Queens before peens, remember?” Bailey looks up from her phone and snorts a laugh. Jesse turns his mischievous grin on her. “I’m gonna hang with my best girls and we’re gonna get our dance on. BRB.”

  Bailey and I watch as Jesse dances his way up to the bar, both smiling like fools. Praise the Goddess of Friends because I’ve got some great ones.

  “He’s such a goofball,” I say to Bailey as we huddle together off to the side of the dance floor. We got here a bit late, so there was no chance of snagging a table. No matter, though, because I plan on dancing all night.

  “Yeah, he’s definitely a goofball. He’s gonna make someone very happy someday.” She says on a wistful sigh. “They’ll wear matching scarves, and they’ll get a cat and he’ll knit the cat little sweaters.”

  “He’ll probably name the cat something ridiculous, like Dog or Pig.”

  “Or Steve Carrell.”

  We both let out big laughs. “He’ll definitely name it Steve Carrell.” This night is going to be exactly what I need.

  “I love this song!” I shout to Bailey as “my ex’s best friend” by Machine Gun Kelly comes on, and when Jesse comes back with our drinks, we head out to the dance floor.

  For as off-kilter as I’ve been feeling, I still went all out tonight. Black distressed skinny jeans, shimmering silver stilettos, and a white flowy silk tank that shows just a hint of my stomach when I raise my arms. My hair is half-up in a top knot with the rest curled into beach waves, and I’m rocking siren red lipstick and thick winged eyeliner. Basically, I look freakin’ hot.

  I’m starting on my third drink, feeling relaxed and floaty, when Jesse checks his phone and disappears. Bailey and I are dancing and singing along to some ‘90s boy band throwback when Jesse slides back up next to us, and I watch him hip check Bailey. They share a conspiratorial grin that confuses me for all of two seconds before I learn exactly what they’re smiling about.

  I feel him before I see him, and the rush of emotions that floods through me is both exhilarating and terrifying. He slides his hand over my hip, his thumb grazing the exposed skin just above my jeans and presses his chest to my back.

  This type of touch isn’t new, but the way it sets me on fire is nothing like I’ve felt before. Goose bumps travel from where his hand is resting and cover every inch of my body. The sensation is so sudden and erotic that my breath catches, and my eyes fall shut. When he lowers his mouth to my ear, my head involuntarily falls back onto his chest.

  “Surprise,” Kelley whispers. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you,” I say back, but he probably can’t hear me over the music. I wonder if he can feel my heart pounding.

  Gods, why am I electrified?

  I take a deep breath and turn around, forcing myself to take a step back, causing his hand to fall from my waist. I’m both relieved and aching from the loss.

  “What are you doing here?” I feign bravado and flash him a grin, trying my best to get a handle on myself. “Did Mr. Serious finally decide to cut loose and have some fun?”

  “I did,” he nods, mouth quirking in a sexy smirk that sets my pulse skyrocketing.

  What in the world? What is happening?

  I can’t stop myself from looking him over. My gaze rakes down his body, exploring and discovering details I’ve somehow been missing, and my body releases a sigh of relief. It’s as if my eyes are rejoicing in finally being allowed to see him fully. To appreciate the view in a way that they’ve previously been denied.

  Gosh, he looks good.

  I’ve always known he is attractive. I’m not blind. But this new recognition? This is next-level.

  Kelley’s auburn hair is styled in that unstyled way that looks like someone just ran their fingers through it. I have to clasp my hands into fists to keep from trying it out for myself. His hazel eyes are sparkling with mischief, his plump lips still sporting that infuriating and extremely hot smirk.

  Curse that smirk. I frown. I’m too tipsy to handle it.

  I let my eyes drift downward. The top two buttons on his dark grey Henley are undone, exposing a sliver of smooth, golden chest. The shirt fits him just snug enough to draw attention to his defined pecs and biceps, and his long sleeves are pulled up slightly, to show off his forearms.

  Frankly, it’s borderline indecent.

  The way he’s flaunting his forearms for everyone in Keggers to see. The way his biceps are outlined through his shirt. If I stare hard enough, I could probably see the indention of his six-pack. I’m surprised we’re not swarmed by thirsty women and men trying to sneak a peek. And I am the biggest hypocrite.

  When I let my eyes fall down to his tight, dark wash jeans, I hear him laugh. It’s low, rough, and seductive. I feel it everywhere.

  “You’re acting like you’ve never seen me before.” I can hear the cocky grin in his voice.

  I lift my eyes to his. Who is this unbelievably sexy man in front of me, and what has he done with my best friend?

  “Maybe I haven’t.”

  A boyish, giddy smile engulfs his face, and he tucks his chin and looks away briefly. If that isn’t a sight to memorize. Kelley Pierce is embarrassed. I take a mental picture and hope that I’m not too buzzed to store it properly.

  “Hey, Jesse! Hi guys!” A female voice infiltrates the imaginary, secluded bubble I’d been standing in with Kelley, and I remember suddenly that we are in the middle of a crowded bar. I glance at my friends, and they’re both watching us with huge, troublemaking smiles. But there’s a third person standing with Jesse and Bailey, and she definitely isn’t in on their joke.

  “Hiya,” I say and raise my hand to wave awkwardly. I am the smoothest. The Queen of Cool. Definitely do not need another vodka cranberry.

  “Ivy, you’ve met Cassie, right?” Kelley gestures toward the gorgeous girl standing next to Jesse. She’s got to be 5’10” and her legs are probably twice the length of mine. A plump, glossy pout. Sleek and shiny dark brown hair. She looks like a dang Jenner. The model one, not the other one.

  “I have not met Cassie.” I shake my head and force a confused smile. What in the hello...are they here together? On a date?

  “Well, I feel like I’ve met you,” Cassie chirps, and she smiles sweetly up at Kelley in a way that makes me grit my teeth. “Kelley has told me a lot about his best friend.”

  Before my buzzed brain can decide if that was supposed to be a dig, Kelley slides his arm over my shoulder and presses a kiss to the side of my head. In my mind, I picture him getting a face full of my stylish top knot and I snort out a giggle.

  “Ivy’s my best girl,” I hear Kelley say, and I watch as Cassie’s smile falls a little. The butterflies in my stomach do a little victory lap that I refuse to analyze, and I giggle some more.

  Good grief, I’m floaty.

  “Cassie, this is Bailey,” Jesse cuts in.

  “I’m Ivy’s roommate, and I think we all need to dance,” Bailey exclaims, then she hooks her arm with mine and pulls me farther out onto the dance floor.

  I can feel the bass pulsing up through my stilettos as I move my body to the music. Surrounded by people I love and trust, the crowded dance floor feels like the safest place in the world. No stress. No anxiety. No baggage. Just a carefree twenty-one-year-old woman enjoying her last year of undergra
d.

  Cassie has turned out to be pretty freaking cool. The two friends that came here with her and Kelley—So not a date, thanks—joined our group a few hours ago, and we’ve been laughing and singing and dancing together all night.

  I absolutely love seeing Kelley having fun. He never comes out with us, and Bailey rarely does anymore, so this has been a perfect night.

  Well, except...

  I’m struggling with a niggling sense of disappointment deep in my stomach. Kelley hasn’t been outside of an arm’s length from me all night, but our physical contact has been minimal. I’ve felt his eyes on me way more than his hands, and that disappoints me.

  Ugh.

  Every so often, our arms would brush, or I’d feel the heat from his body behind me as we danced, but despite the way the connections electrified my blood to boiling, every encounter has been...friendly. He’s acted the same with me as he has with Bailey and Cassie and even Jesse tonight.

  But the looks?

  The looks have been anything but friendly.

  Sultry. Suggestive. Sexy. But definitely not friendly.

  My head is spinning.

  Just a few hours ago, I was insisting to Bailey and myself that I have no interest in Kelley outside of friendship. I would never, ever, see him in any way other than platonically.

  But then he had to come waltzing into this bar with his stupidly adorable hair, and his damned lickable biceps, and that infuriatingly perfect little side smirk—also lickable, I’ve decided—and now I don’t know what side is up.

  I’ve been blindsided by feelings I’ve repressed since Senior Prom, and I can’t seem to cram them back into the lockbox where they belong.

  Who the heck let them out in the first place?

  I blame the Henley. Why are Henleys so hot? A sleeper-seduction technique, for sure. Sex disguised as cozy cotton loungewear. The guy who designed them is probably a playboy genius.

  It’s unfair, really.

  I’m going to take all of Kelley’s Henleys and burn them.

  No wait. I’ll donate them. Either way, they need to go.

  As the song ends, I turn to Bailey. I need a shower and sleep and possibly some pros/cons lists and data charts to figure out just exactly what’s happening in my head tonight. Not necessarily in that order.

  “I’m ready to head out when you are,” I shout over the crowd. She nods.

  “Sounds good. I’ll go close my tab.”

  “Coolie. I’m gonna go to the bathroom, then we’ll say goodbyes.”

  “Hey, so, I might actually go to Bar 31 and meet up with Alex, that guy I told you about. You wanna come?” Bailey seems nervous but excited, which is out of character for her. Men don’t make her giddy, and she’s never intimidated.

  “Are you asking because you want me there or just out of the goodness of your heart?”

  She scrunches up her nose and gives me a sweet smile. “The latter?”

  I pretend to be insulted and shake my head with a mock pout. “Then definitely not. My feet hurt. But make sure you share your location with me and send me a picture of him. Or a social media profile, or a license plate or something.”

  “Of course! Go pee and then I’ll wait with you for your Uber.”

  I make my way toward the back of the bar, dodging bodies and crossing my fingers that the line isn’t ridiculously long. When I reach the restrooms, I’m pleased to find that there are only eight girls ahead of me, so I’m able to get in and out in only fifteen minutes.

  When I walk out of the bathroom, stepping out of the doorway to allow another girl access, I look up and find Kelley leaning on the opposite wall. There is a small smile playing on his lips, and his arms are crossed in front of his chest in way that makes his biceps bulge and displays his pornographic forearms directly in the center of my vision. I puff out an excited breath, then immediately frown at my reaction.

  “Ivy.”

  “Kelley.”

  Without another word, he steps up to me and grasps my hand, then leads me down the darkened hallway and into a small room. When he flicks on a light, I see we’re in a storeroom of sorts. Boxes of cleaning supplies and toiletries are stacked on metal shelving units along the wall, a mop and bucket stand in the corner. Everything smells clean, like fresh linen and citrus.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, arching a brow and trying to tame my intrigued smile. “Why are we back here?”

  “We’re in a storeroom,” he states the obvious, and I get the feeling there’s a punchline I’m not quite grasping.

  “I can tell.” I roll my eyes. “But why are we in a storeroom in the back of Keggers?”

  “Zack, from my soccer team. He works here. He unlocked it for me.”

  He takes a step closer to me and my skin burns in the best way.

  “Ooookay...” I look up at him, confusion and exhilaration coursing through my veins.

  I wait for him to tell me more, to fill me in on what I’m missing, but instead he takes another half-step toward me. Our toes are almost touching, and I watch his hazel eyes as he looks me over. He settles his gaze on my mouth. I lick my lips on instinct, and his prominent Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. I have an urge to kiss it.

  My heart is beating so fast.

  He drags his eyes to mine and every green and gold fleck in his irises are set ablaze. My breath catches in my chest, and without breaking eye contact, he raises his hand to my ear and brushes his fingertips over my dangling faux-diamond earring.

  I feel the touch all the way to the pointed heels of my stilettos, and I curl my toes and breathe out the first thing that comes to my mind.

  “They’re fake.”

  “Hhmm?” Kelley hums in question, lightly grazing the pad of his finger along the back of my ear. I gasp and snap my eyes open, meeting his heated stare punctuated by a tiny smile.

  “I said, they’re fa—”

  I halt my words, a wave of memory washes over me and my eyes flare. Kelley’s pleased smile takes over his face.

  “They’re fake?” he finishes playfully. “Costume jewelry?”

  I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips, and I nod.

  This is so surreal.

  Still smiling, Kelley brings his other hand up to my face and threads his fingers in my hair, so I’m cradled in his palms. His feet are straddling mine now, our chests just barely touching, and I wonder when he got so close, and how can I get him closer.

  I lower my eyes and watch as I slide my hands slowly up his chest, around to his shoulders, and down his arms until I’m gripping his biceps, marveling at the way my fingers impress upon the soft fabric of his shirt and the solid feel of him beneath. When I lift my gaze back to his, his eyes are filled with mirth and heat and promise, and I shiver with anticipation.

  “Ivy,” he rasps.

  “Kelley,” I whisper back.

  He rests his forehead on mine and flutters his eyes shut, and before he can say anything else, I raise up on my toes and press my mouth to his.

  For a moment, I’m suspended in time, weightless and breathless, floating somewhere between seventeen-year-old me and now. I sink into him without a second thought, warmth and comfort and tingles washing over my body. His lips are so soft. I open my mouth a little and run my tongue along his plump bottom lip, and he groans, tightening his grip in my hair. It shoots straight from my mouth to my core, and I’m aching for him.

  In a freaking storage room in the back of Keggers.

  Next to bathroom cleaner and paper towels.

  Jeebus. So dang floaty.

  Kelley opens his mouth and when his tongue brushes over mine, I can’t help the whimper that escapes. I fist his cursed Henley and press my knuckles into his hard chest. The feeling that takes hold of me is one of ecstasy and awe, like I’d been waiting for this moment for years, only I didn’t know it until just now. Like a dream I’d had often, but could never remember, was coming to life.

  When the desire to let him bend me over the box of toilet paper cr
osses my mind, my heart races faster, stealing my breath completely, and I can’t tell if it’s panic or arousal. In an effort to get a handle on my body, I slow the kiss, smoothing my hands down his torso and resting them on his hips, and he follows my lead.

  Resting our foreheads together once more, the kissing stops, but his lips don’t leave mine. When I feel him smile against my mouth, I return it and let loose a giggle.

  The panicky feeling in my gut is gone. All that’s left are intoxicated butterflies.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” Kelley whispers against my lips.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he exhales. “You look stunning. Watching you dance and laugh. Seeing you carefree with our friends. That’s when you’re the most beautiful. I’m stuck in your orbit, Ivy Rivenbark.”

  Oooof. This man.

  His words circle my body, caressing every part of me, and I kiss him once more. Soft, sweet, and sexy. Like us in this moment.

  “I know you’re going to overthink this later. I know you’re going to want to take a step back and analyze it until you think you have everything planned and figured out,” he states, and I’m smacked upside the head with just how well he knows me.

  “Just, promise you won’t avoid me. I’ll give you some space if you need it, but try not to overanalyze, okay? Let’s just let this...unfold. Let’s see where it goes.”

  His voice is soothing and hopeful, but I also hear a hidden plea woven into his words. Anyone else might have missed it, but just like he knows me, I know him. Kelley is full of promise with a hint of fear. Same.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “Yeah?”

  I nod, and take a step back, giving him a small smile. “Yeah.”

  I head toward the door. “We should go. Bailey is waiting for me.” He nods back and grins. All of the ways this could go wrong, how feeling like this for Kelley is not at all what I’d planned, claw at my mind, but I shove them back. I box them up. I’ll revisit them later. With a pros/cons list, probably.

  Right now, I just want to drift on this euphoria some more.