by Daisy Jane
“I do,” he says, pulling up to a red light, his eyes trained on mine. “What made you want such a gnarly thing?” he asks, with no judgement. Simple acknowledgement that what we did was somewhat crazy.
“I think I reached a point where I was tired of feeling unattractive—” I hold the opposite palm over the console, to shush any argument he’s preparing and when I look, his mouth is open, like he was about to speak. “I know I’m not ugly, I didn’t say that to fish. I just mean, the migraines took so much of what I thought my life was about and,” I shake my head, realizing just how lost I was a few months back. “It was nice to feel wanted and happy and… good. It was nice to feel good.”
He pulls the car into an unmarked parking spot, breaking our connection. His torso swivels to face me, his palms smooth over his thighs. “Brett was a fucking idiot.”
I laugh. “He still is, I’m sure,” I add.
Eli ends up being the one who finds the floral arrangement that we choose. His taste is impeccable and I don’t know why it surprises me. Hell, it’s just a normal Saturday afternoon and he’s looking like a snack in black jeans, fitted to his muscular lower half, a baby blue button up with short sleeves, revealing ink on his biceps. The top two buttons are undone, giving me a full view at the landscape of sleek muscle between his pecs. I also notice how all the women look at him, and I swear one of them actually licks her lips, the hussy.
It isn’t enough that he chooses a beautiful arrangement comprised of my personal favorites—which he obviously has no idea about. Hot pink and lavender roses, green cymbidium orchids, pink tulips and green viburnum with green and pink hydrangeas filling in the core. It’s truly stunning and seeing it in Eli’s arm as he fishes his wallet from his back pocket? My hand presses to my stomach and my breath catches. He spots me and I attempt to play it off. Attempt, I said. I didn’t say successfully.
“Hungry,” I say, turning my moment into a stupid belly rub. As if a grown woman really rubs her belly when she’s hungry anyway. Eli’s devilish grin sets off a flame in my chest, making my body melty and my nipples hard.
“I’ll pay and we can grab something to take home to eat on our way back.” He ushers me to the counter and the woman running the iPad register looks us up and down.
I’m wearing black yoga pants and a Salon Six t-shirt, which hangs loose, exposing one bare shoulder. My long blonde hair needs a wash so its up in my usual messy bun and my face is make up free. Her eyes hover on a bleached spot of fabric on my t-shirt before she gives me an uneasy little smile. She’s thinking what is this sex on a damn stick doing with this crumpled up towel?
Then Eli rests his hand on the small of my back, nudging me closer to the counter, as if we’re together. Not like I’m just waiting for him to pay but that we’re there together, finishing the transaction together. Together. Then his thumb moves in small strokes against my back as the woman lets the machine feed a receipt through her fingers.
It’s just a casual back touch on his part, I’m sure, but my body doesn’t feel casual. Sweat drips down my spine with his substantial hand on me. He’s laid behind me naked and I think I’m more nervous now than I was then.
The excitement that courses through me is intense. Like, I want to skip and giggle type of excitement. Eli held my hand. He’s touching my back. This is something. This is definitely something.
Isn’t it?
He keeps his hand on me as he ushers me back to the car and he once we’re both inside, the spell seems to be broken when his phone rings. He answers, not letting it go to the Bluetooth connection in the car, and holds the phone to his left ear. I try not to read into the subtle things he’s doing to be discreet. Still. I can hear her voice.
“Probably not tonight.” He says flatly, no give in his tone. He’s definitely not negotiating with her and I wonder if he’s talking to the girl who left the gift bag on the porch. A few more one-word responses from his end and he’s off the phone.
“Sorry about that,” he says, but the energy has shifted. I feel alienated by his mysterious call, though I know I have no right. Even worse is the excitement has twisted into something that feels like sadness.
“No worries, hey, Bodhi’s pretty nervous. Maybe we should just get back,” I say, looking out the passenger window at the asphalt moving fast underneath us.
“Okay,” he says, and drives us back to the corner house.
Before we open the front door, Eli turns to me and says, “I had a nice time with you.”
“I had a nice time with you, too,” I respond, smiling, hating that I’m not able to shake the disappointment from my heart at the thought of him talking to another girl. Being with another girl.
“Get ‘em?” Bodhi is actually pacing the foyer.
“Buddy, relax, she’s going to be interested, she wouldn’t invite you to coffee just to say no. Business or personal,” Eli says, passing the bouquet to him. “I have a call I have to make but I’ll be back down shortly. I can give you the hype you need when I come back down.” Eli squeezes Bodhi’s shoulder, gives me a nod and heads upstairs.
A nod.
Bastian pops his head up from the couch. “Jerk off. It will help.”
Bodhi grimaces. “Already did. I still feel insanely pent up.”
“Eli’s right. She likes you. She wouldn’t have a business meeting at a romantic coffee house if she just wanted to tell you no again.”
Bastian pops up again. “Jerk off again.”
Bodhi leans over the island and stays silent for a minute before his head turns to me, slowly. “Wanna fool around in the shower?” His eyebrow lifts. It’s unique, for sure, to be able to be so sexually attracted to and engaged with someone that you really just feel a friendship for. Our bodies want one another, but our minds know our hearts lie elsewhere. It’s unique and… it works.
I think of Eli’s hand on my back, his thumb moving against the fabric of my shirt. Then I think of the woman on the phone. Then the solid nod. I need to drown in dick to temporarily kick Eli from my brain.
“Hey Bas,” I say, wondering how the two of them will take this. It’s not a carefully planned and defined thing like it was last time, but still, I need the distraction. “Wanna take a shower with me and Bodhi?”
“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Bodhi says, lifting from the counter. “I need stress relief in the form of a beautiful girl. It’s the only thing that will take my mind off Carissa. Release.”
I walk to him and push my finger into his chest. “You will get your release, but I want Bastian, too.” With how nervous Bodhi is and how Bastian opened up to me about Cami the other day, I just want to make both of them feel good. And I want to feel good.
Bodhi looks at Bastian. “Same as last time,” he points.
“Dude, I’ve already seen your dick. I don’t need to try and stare at it while I’m inside Sloane,” he rolls his eyes and pushes off the couch, nearly storming upstairs. “Come on,” he says, “let’s go bang it out.”
Bodhi takes my hand. “Thanks for being a good friend, Sloane, seriously.” I laugh.
“It’s not like I’m not getting something out of this, too,” I remind him.
We walk to the stairs where Bas waits for us and start climbing them together. “Hey,” Bodhi whispers, “you want to me talk to Eli later, when I get home?”
I remember the nod. I shake my head.
“I really think we’re just friends,” I say, trying to hide the sadness strangling me.
“Small bathroom, get naked here,” Bastian says as we stand outside of the bathroom door. It’s not my bathroom, it’s Bastian’s, and I’m a little nervous to shower in a guy’s bathroom. Yeah, they keep the house clean but men are notorious for gross bathrooms.
As if it’s the most casual thing in the world, we all strip down, leaving a pile of clothes outside the door. Bodhi fists his soft cock in one hand and Bastian does the same. Once we’re inside the shower stall, I see that Bastian’s bathroom is spotless too. Their mom’s taught them ri
ght.
“I just need to get off so you take it how you want it Sloanie,” Bodhi says, stress still in his eyes.
I back my bare ass up to Bodhi, moving Bastian in front of me. “You said it’d been a long time since you had a blow job, right?” I stroke Bastian’s stiffening cock, loving how the foreskin looks in the light. I’ve never really played with an uncut man before. I pull it down and swirl my tongue around the head of him and he growls. Looking over my shoulder, I see Bodhi pumping his fisted cock. “You can see how good the backdoor feels on the piercing, Bod,” I say, wiggling my ass.
His palms smooth over my back, down my ass, thumbs pulling me open. Then the tip of his thumb traces circles around my tight opening, making my legs shake. I never knew I’d be turned on by a guy touching me or fucking me there, but I’m learning things about myself. Try things, it may change your world. Or at least your orgasm.
Taking a condom from the stash over the toilet, Bodhi reaches, unwraps and rolls. He moves the tip of his cock around my opening, slowly feeding himself to my body as I moan out, still pumping my hand up and down Bastian’s erection.
“Where do you want me to come?” Bastian asks, smoothing my hair from my face as the water rushes down over us. I blink a few times.
“It’s your blow job, finish how you want.” He cups my cheek for a moment before hooking his thumb into my mouth like a fishhook.
“Open,” he says, a stern tone. I open and he slides onto my tongue, giving my pussy a rush of warmth. Bodhi sinks himself into me and I lurch forward, finding Bastian’s body, using his hips to hold me up.
Without having to tell him, Bodhi reaches around me and shoves his hand between my legs, fingers dipping into my slit. He pulls his hand back and holds it out. Even under the running water, I can see how sticky his fingers are.
“Damn, Sloane, you’re so wet.” He leans down, his cock shifting inside me, giving me a burst of unexpected pleasure. With his lips on my ear and Bastian’s cock in my mouth, he says, “I know it’s because you just spent time with Eli, but I’m not going to let it go to waste.”
Again, I’d smile if my mouth wasn’t so full.
Bodhi’s hand plays at my swollen clit, pinching it then releasing it, rolling it between thumb and forefinger before letting go, then just delicately rubbing it with his pointer finger. The soft touch sends me over the edge.
“I’m really close,” I say, after pulling Bastian’s cock from my mouth.
“Thank god,” Bastian groans, “I’ve been fucking holding it since like, the first minute.” He releases his tight grip on the base of his cock, where he’s been holding himself the entire time I’ve been sucking on his steel.
“Ready?” Bodhi grinds his hips up into me fast and hard, pushing me further down Bastian’s cock, creating a Newton’s Cradle of momentum. Bodhi fucks my ass hard and rubs my clit soft, my mouth presses against Bastian’s body with each thrust forward and finally, he can’t hold back anymore.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come, can I come in your mouth?” he asks. A memory of him comes flooding in, Officer Cute, the day on the accident, in uniform looking like a fucking wet dream. I nod yes. I don’t think of Eli in my mouth and how perfect it felt. I don’t think of that at all.
Bastian erupts, Bodhi stills, growling fiercely, and I feel his heat fill me up, his fingertips pinch my clit each time he releases into me and the feeling of the both of them flooding and filling me sends me over. My pussy spasms hard, my mind goes black and I hold Bastian’s hips tight so I don’t fall. My legs are trembling once my orgasm is done tearing through me like the damn Tasmanian devil, and after I swallow Bastian’s release, I stand up, pressing my forehead to my forearms against the shower wall. Bodhi rubs my back and Bastian pushes hair from my face. The water is getting cold now.
“Thank you,” Bodhi says.
“Thank you,” Bastian says.
“Thank you,” I say back to both of them.
We wrap in plush towels and my mind is stuck on Eli as the guys talk about how the fabric softener is too strong and could trigger a migraine.
“It’s like strong perfume,” Bastian says, “and that’s a trigger. We should switch back to stiffer but less smelly-good towels.”
Bodhi agrees and even though they’re talking about a domestic change to make things better for me, it’s as if they’re in another room. I can hear what they’re saying but it’s muffled by the noise in my brain. When we step out into the hall, Eli is opening his bedroom door, smoothing the screen of his phone like he’s just ended his phone call.
Our eyes lock and my stomach falls.
An Alice in Wonderland falling down the rabbit hole type of fall.
My stomach continues its free fall forever when I see the unmistakable dejection sweep over his features. I hit the bottom of the rabbit hole when he gives us all a nod and slips down the stairs. I hear him on the phone as I stand alone in the hallway, wrapped in a towel.
“You know what,” he says, a bit of salt in his tone. “Tonight’s good.”
It sounds like he has a date. Of course, he has a date. It’s Saturday night. He’s Captain fucking America. We had a gang bang and cuddled; we ran errands together. It’s not like he’s been courting me or we’ve been texting. We’re roommates with occasional benefits. Friends. That is all.
The sooner I get over that, the better. That disappointed look on his face wasn’t for me and him. It was probably that he wasn’t included in the fun.
I get dressed but decide to stay in my room. I send Bodhi a text wishing him good luck and pull the covers over my head. It’s Saturday afternoon but my head is starting to feel funny and I know when that happens, it’s better to rest than to try and prove it wrong.
I’m not in bed because I’m moping about Eli. That would be insane. Of course, that’s not what I’m doing. Yawning, I turn on my side, surveying the colorful spines of all the romance novels I’ve read.
It’d been a while since I’d read one. I had migraines to thank for that, too. Migraines were like a bitter ex-wife who took just the things I loved, leaving all the rubble for me to claim. I flipped onto my other side, trying to think of one single heroine in any of those books that would be sleeping in bed at two o’clock on Saturday afternoon.
None came to mind. My eyes closed heavily as my head grew sore.
Maybe I was my own brand of migraine-having sulking heroine that hadn’t been written yet. I was happy to be that now, as my eyes closed and I dozed off.
Chapter 22
“You’ve literally never asked anyone about your ‘outfit’ until right now,” Bastian says, driving a chip into a bowl of homemade guacamole, left over from girls’ night last night.
It ended up being just me and Kayla, as Brynn had a last-minute Pilates class she just had to try and Abbie was on a date with her new boyfriend and fellow Eastwood Academy teacher, Mike.
She and I had popped by Juan-derful Tacos and gotten way too much food, taken it back to her apartment, made guac and binged on Hulu crime documentaries until we couldn’t keep our eyes open. It was nice, and even though Brynn was at Pilates, I felt a shift.
This would be how it happened. People coupled up and slowly, they had less time for girl’s night because they were too busy shopping at Target with their boyfriend, or at a work-party with their boyfriend or getting dicked-down by their boyfriend.
Boyfriends turned to fiancés and fiancés turned to husbands. And though none of that had happened yet, I think the amount of tacos Kayla and I ate were symbolic for what we knew was coming.
Bodhi’s coffee date with Carissa went well. They made a second date and it had nothing to do with her shop because she agreed to sell only vegan watch bands at her boutique on the first. The second was strictly a date.
And though it had only been four days since their first date, she’d texted him this morning wanting to go out today. Smart, Carissa. She’d finally realized.
“I’m nervous, thanks for pointing that out,�
� Bodhi exhaled, plopping down on the couch.
“You look good, Bod, you know there’s literally nothing you could do to look bad, okay?” I shake his shoulders and set my things out on the bar. “Now get over here so I can give you a trim.” He drug his large body to the bar and sat down on the barstool with an underwhelming energy. Bastian continued on the chips while I draped my smock over Bodhi and pinned it together at his neck.
“I don’t know why you’re so drag-ass,” Bastian said through a bite. “Second date. If she didn’t like you, there wouldn’t be a second date.”
Bodhi shook his head as I combed out his hair. “I hate how nervous I am. I feel so unlike me.”
“You’re acting like a girl.” Bastian takes another bite.
“That’s sexist,” Bodhi scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, sitting up a bit taller.
I patted his shoulder. “Thanks.”
Bastian stopped eating for a moment. “It really is weird that you’re nervous.” He wiped his hands down the front of his athletic pants and Grandma jumped up his leg, smelling the trace of chips.
“Down Grandma,” he said, with no threat in his tone. Grandma licked his leg.
Mid-trim, Eli came home. He’d been working so much lately—or so I assumed—that we hadn’t seen each other very much. But the lack of his presence didn’t make my little infatuation fade. I can now say with one-hundred-percent certainty, absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder.
But I didn’t want it to be weird so I told myself I’d turn things around; I’d force myself into a neutral space. And then somehow, I’d force myself to move on, too. Because you can definitely do that with baby feelings and these were just that. Baby feelings. Right?
“How’s the upgrade going?” Bodhi asked, without moving his head now that my scissors were working.
I made the fatal mistake of stopping to look at Eli when he came in. Fitted black dress slacks, a crisp white dress shirt with thin black lines running horizontal and vertical over it lightly, the buttons working to contain his body. The cuffs were rolled up a few times, exposing just a tiny bit of his wrists and forearms. He was clean shaven, hair perfectly styled in a masculine but sexy coif and when his eyes caught me moving up and down his body, I froze. It felt like he froze, too, and so I smiled. And he smiled. And the ache in my heart seemed to lessen, just slightly.
