by J B Heller
I screamed, and laughed, “What are you doing?” I cried.
“You were taking too long.” He said as he opened the front door, stepped out, and closed it behind him. All while I was still hanging over his shoulder.
Looking down unconsciously licked my lips, he had a damn fine arse. I had a sudden urge to reach out and slap it. So I did.
Weston laughed as he strode towards his truck parked in his driveway, “Keep that up and I’ll be returning the favour, Tory.”
I swallowed, hard. Because the idea of Weston spanking me should not have sent a shiver down my spine.
Once he reached the passenger door of his truck he lifted me again, and slowly lowered me down his body until my feet hit the ground. Looking up into his eyes I swallowed again. Licking my lips, I mumbled, “I guess you’re driving then, huh?”
His lips quirked in a grin, “I’ll drive you wherever you want to go Tory.”
The look in his eyes now had my heartrate picking up speed. I spun around and grabbed the door handle yanking it open, “The Plaza will be fine.” I said over my shoulder as I climbed up into the cab.
Latching my seatbelt I fixed my eyes on my hands locked together in my lap. He should not be able to evoke such responses from me. He’s Weston. What is wrong with me?
Weston turned the radio up as he drove. Hands to myself, came on and I felt Weston’s eyes on the side of my face. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye I caught the grin on his face right before he reached over and started poking me in the ribs.
I squealed and jumped in my seat, plastering myself against the door as he sang out at the top of his lungs, “Can’t keep my hands to myself.”
Laughter bubbled up from my stomach and I collapsed into myself as I struggled to breath. He kept singing along to the song with a huge grin on his handsome face, his eyes flicking over to me every other second they weren’t on the road.
When the song ended he took a mock bow, “Thank you, thank you, please, hold your applause.”
“You’re such a dick.” I laughed.
“Took that miserable look off your face though didn’t it.”
I looked over at him watching me while stopped at a red light. I smiled softly, “It did.”
He continued to sing along at the top of his lungs to every song on the radio for the remainder of the drive to the shopping centre. There was even a little Bieber in there. And I continued to laugh, my stomach in a whole different kind of knots by the time he parked the car and turned off the ignition.
Grinning at him I unfastened my seat belt, “Come on Bono, I’ve gotta get an outfit for my hot date.”
His expression instantly morphed from a beaming smile to annoyance. But he didn’t say anything as he slid out of his seat and slammed his door shut.
Shit. Why did I say that?
I jumped down from my side of the car and jogged to catch up with him. As soon as I was by his side he clicked the button on his keys, locking his truck, then shoved them in his pocket.
“Weston, wait up.” I huffed.
He slowed his pace minutely, and glared down at me, “Why? So you can get my opinion of your hot new outfit for another guy? No thanks.”
“If I knew you would act like a spoiled brat I would have just come on my own.” I grumbled then turned around heading for the other entrance, “I’ll take a taxi home. Thanks for the ride.” I called over my shoulder.
I half expected him to come after me, but he didn’t. My shoulders slumped when I heard footsteps approach, but he got back in his truck and pulled out of the parking lot, not even sparing me a glance as he drove past me.
The last thing I felt like doing now was shopping. So I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and ordered a taxi. Ten minutes later I was on my way back home.
Weston’s truck was nowhere to be seen as I paid the cabbie and strode towards my front door.
I spent the rest of the night eating a tub of cookies and cream ice-cream while binge watching Vampire Diaries on Netflix. Say what you like about that show, but Damon is hot.
Saturday night I sat on my couch in a simple pair of black skinny jeans matched with a loose fitting white racer back tank and a pair of silver sandals on my feet. I’d left my long hair down, just pulling a few strands back away from my face and pinning them together at the back.
Finn came out of his room dressed up as well, “Lookin’ good, Mum. Where did you say you found this guy?” he asked a little too casually.
I raised a brow, “He’s Jane’s brother. Why?”
He shrugged feigning nonchalance, “No reason.”
When a knock sounded from the front door Finn took off to answer it before I even got up off the couch.
He leaned against the open door frame and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked Brian up and down. Then to my horror Weston stepped up behind Finn, I hadn’t even seen him come in. He glared at Brian, “What do you want?” he asked.
I could have just died of embarrassment. I jumped up and ran to the door, but the boys were blocking me, “Move!” I demanded.
Both Finn and Weston glanced at me over their shoulders and shook their heads. “Do you mind? We’re doing something here.” Finn said.
I crossed my arms, “Like what?”
“Intimidating him, what’s it look like?” He said with a roll of his eyes then turned his focus back to Brian. “I’m going to need your full name, phone number, criminal record and employment status before I allow you to date my mum.”
I got up on my tippy toes to see Brian over their shoulders, he looked relaxed and not at all offended by the boys’ behaviour. He reached out and shook Finn’s hand, “I’m Brian Adrian Morelli, I don’t have a criminal record that I’m aware of and I work for my family company, Morelli Motors Group. Oh and if you want my number, you’ll have to buy me a drink first.” He said with a little wink in Finn’s direction.
Finn grinned, and looked back at me, “He passed, you can go now. Be back by eleven.” He kissed me on the forehead and strode back down the hall to his room.
Weston however was still solid as a brick wall, glaring at Brian like he wanted to rip his throat out. I elbowed him in the ribs, “Don’t you have somewhere you’re meant to be?” I growled.
His glare shifted from Brian to me, and I swallowed. He had the intimidation thing down pat. Then without a word he stalked away. Well that was intense. I cleared my throat and smiled at Brian, “Sorry about that.”
He shrugged, “No worries. You ready?”
Nodding I turned back to see Weston leaning his back against the kitchen bench, arms crossed, that angry glare still plastered on his face. I gave him a small finger wave goodbye, and took Brian’s outstretched hand, following him out to his car.
My date with Brian was unfortunately not everything I imagined it would be.
The whole time all I could think about was Weston, and his obvious disapproval. No matter how charming Brian was, my mind kept drifting back to the scowl on Weston’s face when I left.
I couldn’t focus on anything Brian said, and he knew it too. He came right out and asked if something was wrong because I seemed distracted. I told him I was just really tired, that I hadn’t been sleeping very well and he bought it. Thankfully.
But the surprising thing was, my disinterest didn’t seem to deter him. The next day he texted me asking for a do over when I wasn’t feeling so run down. I sat there staring at my phone feeling like a terrible person for a good twenty minutes before I decided that I owed it to Brian and myself to give it a real go.
So I texted back and we planned to go out again the next weekend.
I was in the kitchen making a sandwich when I heard the back sliding door open then close. I poked my head around the corner and saw Weston walking in. “Finn’s not home.” I told him while chewing on a piece of cheese.
I had expected him to turn around and leave but he just kept coming towards me. I shrugged and went back into the kitchen to finish making my lunch.
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When I turned around Weston was right behind me. I startled and almost dropped my plate, but he caught it. “What are you doing?” I asked.
He took a step closer and put the plate with my sandwich on the counter behind me. His eyes were intent on mine and I got a really bad feeling. I swallowed hard as he took another step closer, forcing me to step back until my butt hit the cupboard behind me.
Weston moved closer still, giving me nowhere to go. I had to tilt my face up to look into his, he was so close. “Weston, wha—what are you doing?” I stuttered.
His firm body was pressed against me now, and I could feel tension radiating off of him. “Don’t go out with him again.” he clipped out, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was holding himself back.
I frowned, what business was it of his? “Excuse me?” I snapped.
His eyes flicked to my lips for a brief moment then back up to my eyes again, “Don’t go.”
Rolling my eyes I lifted my hands to push him away but he didn’t budge. His body was ridged, unmoving. “Why?” I finally asked when it was clear I couldn’t move him.
“I don’t want you to.” He said as if that made perfect sense.
I shook my head, “What’s going on here? Why don’t you want me to go? Is Brian some kind of creeper or something?”
Weston lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “Don’t know.”
Sighing I clicked my tongue, “Okay,” I drew the word out, “so what’s the problem then?”
My eyes widened as Weston slowly began lowering his head, I drew mine backwards, away from his, and he sighed, “Tory,” he breathed my name and I felt it against my lips.
I searched his eyes, “Weston, I don’t understand.”
His heart hammered under my palm as he dropped his forehead to mine, “You never have, I’m beginning to think you never will,” he murmured.
Understanding dawned, I’d been trying to pretend that all the times Weston had flirted with me over the years that it was just good natured and nothing serious or worth worrying about. But right now, in this moment, I knew. I’d only been fooling myself.
Tears I didn’t expect prickled my eyes, “No Weston, I can’t, you can’t.” I pleaded.
I felt his chest shudder as he released a deep breath, he dropped a feather light kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering a second, then two, and then he was gone.
He left me standing alone in my kitchen wondering if I’d just imagined the whole thing.
Pushing my fingers into my hair I wanted to scream. He’d just ruined everything. The whole dynamic of our little group was never going to be the same. It couldn’t be.
I was about to turn thirty. And he had not long turned twenty. He was my son’s best friend. Nothing about what just happened was okay. But I didn’t know what to do about it.
A week passed and Weston hadn’t been around like usual. And Finn noticed, “You seen Wes lately?” he asked me one afternoon when he got home from work.
“Nope.” I answered too quickly and Finn eyed me with suspicion, but didn’t comment on it.
They usually had a beer together after work, and we all ate together at least once a week.
I never did go on that do over date with Brian. I don’t know why. And it played on my mind constantly. Did I not go because Weston didn’t want me to? Or did I just not want to?
It didn’t matter what I did to try distract myself, I couldn’t focus on anything. Not even at work.
“Tory, you okay? You’ve been off lately.” Jane my assistant manager asked me the following Monday morning when I couldn’t get the cash float to balance and kept starting over.
I gritted my teeth in frustration. This normally took me less than five minutes but I’d already been at it for ten, and it still wasn’t adding up. I closed the register and turned to Jane, “No, no I’m not okay Jane. And I don’t know how to fix it.”
Jane quirked her pierced brow, “What’s got you so twisted up in knots? I’ve never seen you like this. You’re not screwed up over Brian are you? Cause I’ve already set him up with someone else.”
A humourless laugh erupted from my lips, “No, not Brian, and sorry about that by the way.”
She shrugged it off, “No sweat dude, you guys didn’t mesh, not a problem. That’s what dating is for. You like ’em or you don’t. So if it’s not Brian, who is it?”
“Weston, of all people.” I said, then blew my fringe out of my eyes.
Her eyes widened comically, “Weston? As in Finn’s hot friend?”
I rolled my eyes, “Yes, as in Finn’s best friend. As in totally untouchable for so many reasons Weston.”
Jane snorted, “Why’s he untouchable? I’d like to touch him. A lot.” she said waggling her eyebrows.
Reaching out I playfully shoved her shoulder, “Dude, he’s only just turned twenty.” I then gestured to myself, “And I’m gearing up to hit thirty.”
She shrugged, “So what. I’d do him. Ten years is nothing. My parents are like fourteen years apart.”
My eyes bugged out now, “Really?” I squeaked.
Jane laughed, “Yeah, it worked for them. Mind you Grandpa wasn’t real happy about it when his little girl started dating a grown man. But he got over it when he realised they were perfect for each other.”
I huffed, “That’s different. Your dad is older than your mum. That’s totally fine, but I have no plans on entering cougar town.”
“Cougar town?” Jane asked, “Like the TV show?”
Shaking my head I rolled my eyes at her, “No, I mean, I’m not into younger men. Let alone ten years younger and my son’s best friend.”
Jane shrugged, “Your loss. He’s hot.” Then she turned around to go open the door to the shop.
“Thanks, good talk, so helpful.” I called out after her.
“You’re welcome.” She called back as she weaved through clothing racks heading for the entrance to open the doors for customers.
Finally, I managed to get the resister to balance just as the first customer of the day entered the store. “I’m going out back to work on next week’s roster.” I told Jane, then disappeared into my office.
I didn’t sleep well that night, or any night before it since Weston had ruined everything. Each night I fell into bed exhausted and praying I wouldn’t be consumed by the same dream I’d been having since Weston had cornered me in my kitchen.
I would wake in the middle of the night, in a sweaty tangled mess in my sheets panting with an empty ache between my legs. I’d been dreaming of that day, standing in my kitchen, Weston’s hard body pressed against mine. But in my dreams I didn’t pull away, I didn’t stop him.
He’d press his soft, full lips to mine. His tongue would caress mine, rhythmically stoking, teasing. I would arch my back, pressing my breast into his chest and he would groan into my mouth and grind his pelvis into mine, making me moan his name.
And then I would wake up.
Wanting. Craving. Needing.
But I could never have him.
He was my son’s best friend.
He was my best friend’s son.
He was forbidden.
One Year Ago . . .
Finn was moving out. I was a mess.
“Stop crying. I’m not going far. Nix and I will be eating here like every night. She’s not a very good cook. Don’t tell her I said that though.” Finn said wrapping one of his long arms around my shoulders.
“You better.” I mumbled as I wiped my nose.
Finn smirked down at me, “I’m really only moving out so you don’t have to listen to Nix screaming out my name when I’m rocking her world between the sheets.” He said with a waggle of his brows.
I dry retched, “Finn!”
He laughed and ran away from my swatting hands, “What? You hate it when you can hear us, I’m doing you a solid.”
“I thought discussing your sex life was in the little black box that held all discussion about my sex life and hidden at the back of the hal
lway closet?”
“It is,” he said, “the difference is I actually have a sex life, you don’t.”
My jaw dropped, “I do too.”
Finn stopped his retreat and put his hands on his hips then levelled me with a glare, “Oh really? If it’s battery operated, it doesn’t count. When was the last time you actually got laid?”
My eyes widened, “Hey! What happened to the little black box?”
He lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug, “I’m opening the box, but just for a minute.”
“Well, I’m closing it again!” I snapped.
He shook his head and held an imaginary box above his head, “You can’t. I’m taller than you and you can’t reach it. So spill.”
I suddenly felt very small under his scrutinizing gaze, “It’s been a while, but now that you’re moving out I might go out and get me some.” I was proud of my answer, but Finn didn’t buy it.
“How long is a while?” he pushed.
“Jesus Finn, I don’t know. It’s not like it marked it on my calendar.” I snapped at him, already way over this conversation and more than ready to help him put the last couple of boxes in the bed of his truck.
He sighed and brought his hands down on my shoulders, “I’m just worried about you is all.”
I raised a brow, “You’re worried I’m not having enough sex? That’s a bit weird, Finn.”
He smirked, “We’re weird remember. It’s what we do.”
I rolled my eyes, “Doesn’t mean we discuss our sex lives, Finn.”
He huffed, “Why are you being so difficult?”
“Why are you asking me about my sex life?” I shot back.
“Because you’re young, Mum. You should be out having fun. Living your life.” He sighed again, then continued, “If it wasn’t for me you’d probably be married by now—”
My hand shot up and covered his mouth, “Stop right there. I wouldn’t change anything Finn. I don’t regret our life. I don’t regret my choices. Do you understand? I don’t ever want you to feel guilty about anything that has to do with me. I’ve had an amazing life, because of you.” Tears prickled my eyes again as I reached up and touched his cheek, “You’re my little buddy. Well,” I frowned, “you’re not so little anymore, but you’re still my buddy.”
