Just Friends

by Monica Murphy

  “I saw Cannon kissing Emily earlier,” Amanda says after Ryan left.

  I nearly drop my beer. “Wait a second—my Em?”

  “Yep, your Em.” She nods, her lips quirking into a smirk. “I needed to use the bathroom and they must’ve forgot to lock the door. She was sitting on the counter and he was standing between her legs, and let me tell you, they were going at it like they were starved for each other.”

  “Em and Cannon?” I couldn’t imagine her with the big, muscular, blond, irritating Cannon. He was the complete opposite of the dark and moody Em. He was loud and obnoxious, and a total and complete player. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe it. I saw it with my own eyes.” Amanda giggles. “It was kind of disgusting. I saw Cannon’s tongue in her mouth.”

  We collapse against each other, giggling uncontrollably. We’re acting stupid, like we’re little kids but I’ve had way too many beers to worry about it. I’m trying to have fun and loosen up, not stress about giving my virginity to the one and only Ryan Bennett.

  “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Amanda asks.

  My giggles disappear. “Yeah.”

  She reaches out and clasps my hand in hers. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you talking from all of your wild past sexual experiences?” I tease, and her expression turns serious.

  “I’ve had my moments,” she says mysteriously, her gaze not meeting mine.

  I almost don’t believe her, but she can be pretty mysterious when she wants, so…

  “What if I mess it up? What if I do or say something stupid?” Those are the least of my fears. I lower my voice, not wanting anyone else to hear me. “What if it…hurts? Like, really bad?”

  “You’ve done everything else right?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Well, just make sure you’re good and—prepared before you actually do it.” She widens her eyes, reminding me of an owl. “You know what I mean?”

  “I guess.” I shrug. I mean, yeah, I’m not stupid, but it’s probably going to hurt no matter how much we prepare.

  “This is a night you’ll never forget,” Amanda says, gazing out at everyone milling about the backyard. The temperature is dropping and I’d rather go inside or find one of Ryan’s hoodies to keep me warm. But that would ruin my outfit and no way am I covering it up. I’m wearing a cropped floral long-sleeved shirt and a short black skirt I picked out especially for tonight. Even with the long sleeves, I’m showing lots of skin and I know Ryan likes my outfit, what with the appreciative looks he’d been sending my way all night.

  “I know. I’m trying to make it perfect,” I tell her.

  “Forget perfect. Just try to focus on the good stuff. You care about him and he cares about you, right? You two are in looooove.” She draws out the word and starts giggling again, and I giggle too, though it’s really halfhearted.

  Am I in love with Ryan? I just…I can’t say it. Can’t even think it. I like him. I like him a lot. He makes me laugh and he makes me burn inside every time he touches me or kisses me. I like how I feel when I’m seen with him. When I walk down the hall at school, his arm around my shoulders. Running up to him after a football game when he looks so cute yet manly in his uniform.

  I probably could fall in love with him.

  Eventually.

  “Hey Amanda.”

  We both look over to see Tuttle approaching, his expression bland, though his eyes are only for Amanda, and they’re greedily eating her up.

  “Tuttle. Fancy seeing you here,” I tell him, my tone teasing.

  He doesn’t flinch, smile, nothing. “Can we talk?” he asks Amanda.

  She shrugs. “What about?” She’s just as bland, just as emotionless.

  His gaze slides to me for the briefest moment before he returns his attention to her. “Privately?”

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” I tell her, our gazes meeting. She looks a little freaked out. “Unless you don’t want me to leave?”

  “No, it’s okay.” She smiles weakly, a noticeable shiver running through her when Tuttle rests his hand at the small of her back. “Go ahead. We’ll catch up later?”

  “You have a way to get home?”

  “I’ll drive her home,” Tuttle says firmly, sending her a look when she opens her mouth to protest. “I will,” he tells her. “Don’t bother arguing.”

  I leave them be, heading into the house in the hopes I can warm up. A few people linger in the kitchen at the small table in the breakfast nook, and there is a group of guys sitting in the living room, all crowded around the big screen as they play video games. Thank God no one has made a huge mess. Ryan said if we directed everyone outside they would mostly stay outside. Guess he was right.

  “Livvy! Oh my God, there you are!”

  I turn to see Em running toward me, her mouth stretched wide in a grin, her arms thrown open as she tackle-hugs me. I grip her tight, afraid she might knock me over, and she laughs before giving me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

  This feels very familiar. Almost comfortable…yet not.

  “I heard you were here,” I tell her, pulling away so I can take her in. She’s wearing skin-tight jeans that show off her long legs, along with a flowy white shirt with embroidered multi-colored flowers decorating the neckline. She looks great.

  “Who told you I was here?” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and guides me through the house, away from the living room and all the yelling boys. I swear I saw Cannon in there, but I can’t be too sure.

  “Amanda. She said she ran into you in the bathroom.” I send her a sly look, but she doesn’t even flinch.

  “Oh really?” She sounds bored.

  I poke her in the ribs. “Come on, Em. Fess up. You’re hooking up with Cannon.”

  “Shh!” She tugs on my arm and the next thing I know I’m in a bathroom. Probably the very same bathroom she was hooking up with Cannon in. “Why did you say that so loud?”

  “No one was listening to us,” I defend myself, but she keeps talking over me in that typical way of hers.

  “And we’re not really hooking up. Well, we have, but only once. Okay, a few times. But it was nothing. Nothing. He’s just…a scratch for my itch.” She lifts her chin, appearing perfectly content with that explanation.

  “A scratch to your itch?” That sounds awful.

  She sighs, her shoulders sagging. “Listen, it’s happened, but the moment is always accidental. He’s very—persistent.”

  “Uh huh.” I cross my arms in front of my chest.

  “Stop giving me that judgmental tone. You’re the one who’s messing around with Ryan,” she points out.

  “Yeah, because he’s my boyfriend,” I remind her.

  I’m also reminded of the fact that Ryan supposedly took Em’s virginity too. Or did he? No one has ever really confirmed it and I know Em lies about all sorts of stuff. But if I think about the two of them together too hard, it’s kind of creepy.

  Okay, fine. It’s really creepy. So I shove it out of my brain, forcing it to the very darkest corner.

  “What’s wrong?” Em asks after no doubt seeing the dawning horror on my face. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  “It’s nothing.” I shake my head, trying to smile, but it’s shaky at best. “Just—I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you were honest with me about Cannon.”

  “Yeah, well don’t spread it around,” she mumbles.

  “I won’t.” But I can’t promise Amanda won’t say anything. “You look good.”

  “Thanks,” she says softly. “You do too. I like the shirt.” She touches my side, her fingers streaking across the exposed skin above my skirt so lightly I shiver. “Lookin’ sexy, Liv. All for the birthday boy?”

  I remain quiet. What can I say? With a few words, this situation has turned all sorts of awkward.

  “You guys make a great couple,” she continues, her smile never fading as her gaze returns to mine once more. “I know you�
�re totally into Ryan, and that’s great. Just—keep tabs on your man.”

  I frown. Here we go again with the Ryan warnings. “What do you mean?”

  “He has wandering eyes.” She pauses, her eyes sparkling, like she’s enjoying this. “And wandering hands.”

  My stomach sinks to my toes and my mouth goes dry. “You’re just saying that.”

  “I’m trying to watch out for a friend,” she practically sneers.

  “Right, more like trying to ruin my relationship by telling me a bunch of lies.” I shove at her shoulders, so pissed I can barely see straight. She falls back against the counter, her eyes wide, her mouth dropped open in shock.

  Good. I’m glad I can surprise her. She loves setting off these little verbal bombs just before she runs away, and I’m sick of them. Sick of her.

  I don’t know why I put up with her shit for this long.

  “They’re not lies, at least not what I’m telling you. I can’t help it if you’re a stupid, naïve bitch who believes everything your lying boyfriend says,” Em taunts, straightening to her full height, which is about equal to mine. We stare each other down, neither of us looking away and I clench my fingers into tight fists. I’ve never been in a physical fight before.

  But I’m angry. Like, violently angry. I’ve never felt this mad in my life and I’m ready to throw down on her if I have to. Right here in the middle of Ryan’s guest bathroom during his birthday party—my timing isn’t the best, but screw it. I’m so sick of Em’s crap.

  “We keep doing this,” I tell her. “We’re friends, we’re not, we’re sort of friends, we’re sort of not. Which is it, Em?”

  “We definitely can’t go back to the old us,” she says, her gaze wavering. She looks down, looks to the side. She looks anywhere but at me. “Too much has happened.”

  “Like you messing around with Dustin.”

  “Like you messing around with Dustin,” she yells back, shockingly loud in the tiny bathroom. “Though that wasn’t enough for you, so you stole Ryan away from me. I had him first!”

  “He wasn’t interested in you, not like that.” Not like he’s interested in me.

  “Oh, is that what he told you? So I’m okay to mess around with all summer, but once you come along, forget it? He’s over me?” She thrusts a finger into the air, pointing it straight at me. “You came home from Oregon and both Ryan and Dustin didn’t care about me anymore. All they cared about is you.”

  I’ve already heard this. I don’t need to go over it again. “We keep having this same stupid conversation,” I remind her. “It’s getting really old.”

  “No shit. So forget it. I’m done.” Em pushes past me, hitting my shoulder hard. She yanks open the bathroom door before she glances over her shoulder to glare at me. “You can have him. You can have both of them. I hope they make you miserable for the rest of your pitiful life.”

  “Fuck you!” I yell, but she slams the door before I can get the words out, effectively cutting me off. I pound my fist on the closed door once. Twice. I’m so angry I’m shaking, my teeth chattering, and I turn to the sink, flipping on the faucet so I can splash water on my flushed face and wash my hands.

  I stare at my reflection the entire time, Em’s words running on repeat in my head. “God, she’s such a bitch,” I mutter under my breath, turning off the water and grabbing a towel. I dry my hands, run my fingers through my hair, tell myself to calm down, but it’s no use.

  I’m jittery as hell.

  Slowly I open the bathroom door and make my exit, relieved to see there’s no one else around. I glance at the decorative clock hanging nearby and see it’s almost midnight. When I’m supposed to be waiting for Ryan in his room.

  Anger and other swirling, confusing emotions driving me, I run up the stairs and go to his room, searching through the overnight bag I brought with me. My phone is nestled deep inside and I check it, though luckily I have no messages. I dig some more until I find the sexy bra and panties I bought a few days ago. Hurriedly I change out of my clothes and shove them into the bag, before I slip on the lace thong and then the bra.

  I go to the mirror hanging above his dresser and take a few steps back, staring at my reflection. My cheeks are still flushed with anger and my boobs for some miraculous reason look pretty good. The bra and thong are lacy and white and I can see through both. Like…see everything.

  Whoa.

  Deciding the hell with it, I grab my phone and curl up in the middle of Ryan’s bed, tossing my hair over one shoulder as I work out a provocative pose. I do a couple of practice runs, holding my camera up high so my cleavage and everything else I’ve got is on prominent display.

  I’m already in the Snapchat app so I take a photo, a little smile curling my lips. I study the photo, surprised at the outcome. I look sexy. Like, really sexy. Smiling to myself, I type out one sentence before hitting send.

  Come and get it birthday boy.

  The bedroom door crashes open so loudly I jump, a gasp escaping me. Ryan is standing in the doorway, his green eyes seeming to eat me up as he takes me in, poised in the middle of his bed in the skimpiest underwear I’ve ever worn. “Damn,” he breathes.

  I sit up straighter and thrust my shoulders back, giving him a good look. I don’t think even five minutes have passed since I sent that Snapchat. “Like your birthday present?”

  “I fucking love it,” he practically growls as he shuts and locks the door.

  He’s stalking toward the bed, tearing off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, tugging at the fly of his jeans. I’m breathless, weightless as I watch him, anticipation racing hot through my veins as he reaches me. Reaches for me, his hands curling around my face and tilting my head back. He stares into my eyes, lowering his head until his mouth hovers above mine.

  “Happy birthday,” I whisper.

  Ryan crushes my lips with his, the kiss hungry. Hot. Devouring. I rise up on my knees, reaching for him, my arms sliding around his neck, my hands diving into his hair as he slips one hand between us to touch my chest. His fingers claw at the lace, brush across my nipples, and I moan against his mouth, shocked at the heat that washes over me.

  God, I think that argument with Em somehow fueled me and…turned me on? I don’t know, I can’t explain it, but I was so mad earlier, I swear I’m running on pure adrenaline now.

  “You’re so hot, Livvy,” Ryan whispers against my neck as he kisses and licks me there. He reaches around my back and undoes the bra clasp, tearing the delicate fabric off until I’m completely bare, the scrap of lace fluttering to the floor. He cups my breasts in his hands before he pushes me backward. I’m lying on the bed and he’s above me, kneeling between my legs.

  I watch him, drinking in those smooth muscles as they flex, his biceps bulging as he reaches for the thin straps curved around my waist. He tugs off my panties, his mouth burning a path down my legs, his hands shoving them open just before he puts his mouth there, between my thighs.

  “Oh God,” I say on a gasp, panting as I tug his hair, desperate to push him away. But he persists, ignoring my protests, and soon I’m not complaining. I’m pulling him closer, spreading my legs wider, crying out when he thrusts his fingers inside me, and then I’m freaking lost.

  Wave after wave crashes over me, my entire body trembling. Consumed. Overwhelmed. Lost to the sensation of this boy and his magical mouth, his magical tongue and fingers and everything else he’s using on me.

  “Damn, that was fast,” he murmurs, sounding surprised as he lifts away from me. I lay in the middle of his bed a trembling, shaky mess, watching as he reaches for the bedside table drawer. I lift up and reach for the fly of his jeans, pulling on the zipper and spreading the denim open. He strains against the black cotton of his boxer briefs and it doesn’t matter that I just came a few seconds ago.

  I want him. I want him right freaking now.

  “Slow down, baby,” he says as he leaps to his feet and shucks his jeans and underwear all in one tug. Until he’s gloriously naked i
n front of me and while we usually fumble around in the dark or I don’t look at him for too long before closing my eyes, this time around, I’m staring. Taking in every inch of him.

  And he’s got a lot of inches.

  He grins as he tears open the wrapper and rolls the condom on. I watch, my breathing so fast my chest hurts. Everything tingles and I fall back against the mattress as he moves over me, his mouth finding mine, his kiss lazy as his tongue tangles with mine.

  “So fucking sexy,” he murmurs after breaking the kiss, his mouth on my neck. “And all mine.”

  Yes, I want to say. All yours. But I don’t. I keep quiet and close my eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands igniting sparks as they slide all over my skin. I touch him in return, my fingers exploring, my breath coming in short little gasps, his ragged and labored.

  “You want this?” he asks as I feel him slowly thrust between my legs. “Livvy? Do you want me?”

  I hear the doubt in his voice. The vulnerability. He’s as raw and unsure about this moment as I am, and for some reason, that makes me feel more secure, more sure in my decision.

  “Yes.” I open my eyes to find he’s watching me and I smile faintly, touching his cheek with my fingers. “I want you, Ryan.”

  He turns his head, his mouth on my palm in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Then he’s gathering me up in his arms, holding me close, kissing me again, and again as he slowly enters me.

  I wince, my entire body going tense, and he stops, breathing hard against my ear. “I’ll go slow.”

  His words, his voice, are a promise and I nod, pressing my lips together tight. He takes his time, whispering how I should relax, and I try yet it’s so difficult. But he’s also patient and after a few minutes of kissing and coaxing and touching, he’s finally inside me. Filling me up.

  And oh God, then it all happens so fast, so incredibly freaking fast, his hips pumping, pressing me into the mattress. He groans, his body shaking, and the next thing I know, he’s already coming. I’m laying there a gasping, shivery mess, still keyed up and anxious and needing more, so much more. While he’s slumped over me, a giant smile on his face, a satisfied rumble deep within his chest as he nuzzles my neck.