Second

by Chantal Fernando

  She’s just… it for me.

  It’s actually fuckin’ ridiculous.

  My own personal hell.

  I wonder what I did to deserve this.

  “Does it matter if he’s not here? We still have to live with our decisions,” she says, brow furrowing. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few seconds. “So we like being around each other, and we care about each other… that’s fine. And we haven’t crossed any lines. I don’t think there’s an issue here.”

  Maybe not for her, but for me, there’s always been an issue.

  Sabina was always meant to be mine.

  Does she even remember what her marriage to Ben was like? In his death, it’s almost like she’s forgotten and painted him as some magnificent man. Some hero. Don’t get me wrong, Ben wasn’t a terrible person, but he wasn’t a great one either. Is she so blinded by her love for him? Why would I torture myself by trying to compete with that? Over the last year, I’ve told myself over and over again to let this go. But I can’t. I don’t know why, I just can’t.

  I lift my hand and cup her cheek, and she turns her face into my palm, her hazel eyes closing. She is so beautiful, and not just on the outside. What is it about her? Fuck, she’s had me in knots since the first time I laid eyes on her; it’s like she has some sort of spell over me.

  I will always be drawn to Sabina, always.

  It’s been put to the test over the years. I might have been able to conceal my true feelings, bury them so deep that sometimes even I didn’t feel them, but I knew they were always there. How different would my life have been if I’d asked her out before Ben did?

  I remember the day I waited with her after school because Ben was late. She was standing there all alone with a bagful of heavy books, and I waited with her. I did it because I didn’t want her to be alone, and I also did it because I felt guilty. Not because I had a thing for her, but because I’d just seen Ben kissing another girl in the courtyard before I’d seen her. I’d wanted to tell her, I did, but I couldn’t.

  It was the first time I’d worked up the nerve to actually speak to her, and then I had to watch her leave with Ben, who’d just had his lips on another girl. He didn’t even offer to carry her heavy bag of books for her.

  I wanted to shake him, just make him realise that he had such an amazing thing in front of him. Why would he ruin that? Why would he disrespect her and treat her that way? I think I was hoping they’d break up soon, and it wouldn’t be important anymore. And maybe she’d give me a chance.

  But she’d married him, and my chance went out the window. I got signed and left the city, needing to escape, and hoping that maybe I’d meet someone who made me feel like she did.

  I didn’t.

  I have another chance now though, but it’s not going to be easy. So do I take it? Or do I spend the rest of my life wondering what if?

  With her eyes shut, I lean forward on the bed so our lips are almost touching. When she doesn’t move away, I brush my lips against hers once, softly, then again, this time opening my mouth a little.

  She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t kiss me back.

  I don’t know if that’s a win or a loss.

  I try again, kissing her a little deeper this time, and when she responds, kissing me back, I almost want to jump for fucking joy. She tastes just as I’ve always imagined, her lips just as soft, her kiss just as perfect.

  I’m hard as a rock.

  I don’t even want to mention how many times I’ve thought about this moment, and now the woman of my dreams is right where she belongs. My hand moves from her cheek to the back of her neck, gripping her gently as I kiss her with a hunger so intense it almost scares me. When I pull back, she’s panting slightly, her eyes half mast, a little dazed and extremely turned on. This is my first time seeing this side of her, and I need more. Of everything.

  “Fuck,” she whispers, touching her lips.

  “Do you still think there is no issue?” I ask her, letting go of her completely and moving back to my side of the bed. I hope she can’t see my cock straining against my jeans, begging to be let out, but if she looks downwards she’s not going to miss it. She sits up on the bed, saying nothing, and I have no idea what she’s thinking right now.

  “Sabina—”

  “I’m going to go to bed,” she says, standing up and walking to the door. “Do you need anything?”

  Oh I need something, all right, but she isn’t going to give it. Not only that, but I don’t want to have her underneath me until I know for sure that she’s going to be mine. I don’t want just a taste, I want her. All of her. And I want her to have all of me.

  “No, I’m fine. Are you okay though?”

  “Yeah,” she says, opening the door. “I just need to think. I can’t think with you here on the bed, looking like that, and kissing like that. So… uhhh.... Goodnight.”

  She leaves the room, closing the door behind her. I hear her mutter, “Holy fucking shit,” and it makes me chuckle softly. I hear her go into her bedroom, shuffling around the room. The walls are paper thin, so there goes taking care of my hard dick right now. I adjust myself in my jeans and moan softly at the friction.

  Fuck.

  Maybe I should take a shower.

  Deciding that’s the best course of action, I grab a change of clothes and head to what I assume is the bathroom. I peer inside and turn the light on, happy that I got the right room, then lock the door behind me. Taking off my jeans and boxer shorts, I turn the water on and get it to the right temperature before jumping in. I look down and see my dick is hard and pointing outwards, just begging for some attention. I start to stroke it, keeping my groans muted. The last thing I want is for Sabina to hear what I’m doing, even though it’s her I’m thinking about right now, her hands I wish were on me. I stroke myself until I come, her name on my lips. With one hand on the tiled wall, I hold myself up as I catch my breath. Then I finish up in the shower, washing my body. When I get out, I realise that I forgot the towel she left for me on the end of my bed, and there are none in the bathroom. I check the cupboards, but they’re just filled with her girly shit, so I open the door and peer out.

  Silence.

  I take that as the coast is clear and she’s in bed, hopefully asleep, so I make a quick dash for my bedroom. I’m almost safe at the door when….

  “Holy shit, Dean!” I turn around. She’s sitting on the couch in the living room, a tub of ice cream in her hand, spoon halfway to her mouth, her eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them. She takes me in from head to toe, stopping on my dick. “Oh, wow. That’s big. Like, really big.”

  I just stand there, water dripping down my body, watching her watch me. I’m comfortable in my body and used to having it on display, but her eyes on me is a completely different experience. I like her watching me. I like her reaction, like I’m the most amazing thing she’s ever laid her eyes on. She looks like she’s about to start fanning herself or something.

  “I forgot my towel,” I explain, shrugging nonchalantly. “I thought you were in bed.”

  “Big,” she says again, still looking south. I put my hand over myself and smirk. “Well, I’m just going to… yeah.”

  I open the door and walk inside.

  And great, now I’m fucking hard again.

  Chapter Twelve

  I know I’m going to hell for this, but I only have one other penis to compare it to, and Dean’s is huge. And so pretty. Don’t ask me how a penis can be pretty, but after seeing Dean’s, I know it can. I shove the spoonful of now-melted ice cream into my mouth, swallowing and picturing what I just saw. Dean naked is something that everyone needs to see. Actually, I take that back. I don’t want any other women to see him, but he is just something else. The abs, the strong thighs, the sexy as hell V’s… and that amazing cock. He’s perfection moulded into one sexy, talented man. One who kissed me, and one I kissed back.

  I eat more ice cream, replaying the kiss in my head, and wondering what the hell I�
�m going to do about the whole situation. Have I been in denial this whole time? Or is this something new, something that’s building between the two of us?

  I don’t know.

  I don’t have to decide right now, do I?

  When half the tub of ice cream is consumed and I thoroughly hate myself, I put the rest of it back in the freezer and head to bed. Dean never resurfaced after his streak from the bathroom to his bedroom, and I’m kind of thankful for that, because I don’t know how to face him now. It wasn’t so much seeing him naked, but what I’d said during it that mortifies me. How many times did I say “big” in like thirty seconds? I get into bed and lift the sheets high up, so they cover my face.

  And when I fall asleep, I dream about him.

  *****

  I make him breakfast, because a bet is a bet, but also because I would have done it anyway. When he opens his door and wanders into the kitchen, the food is already served and on the table.

  “Morning,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Something smells delicious.”

  “The smell of a victory meal?” I tease, taking a sip of coffee. “Do you want coffee or juice?”

  “Both please,” he says, sitting down and eying the giant stack of pancakes and crispy bacon. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes,” I lie, pouring him some juice and coffee and placing both in front of him. I sit down opposite him and ask, “Did you?”

  I slept for a few hours but woke up with my overactive mind thinking about Dean and my feelings towards him. I thought about Ben, and the look on his face if he knew that I was thinking about his own cousin in such a way, if he knew that I’d kissed him, and then the guilt hit me. What kind of person am I? I always thought I was a good person with a good heart, but now I’m not so sure. I’m clearly a selfish one, only thinking about my wants and needs, my own feelings, and not those of anyone around me. Imagine what Kate and the rest of Ben’s family would say about this. It wouldn’t be pretty.

  “Yeah, that bed is really comfortable,” he says, sipping on his juice. “So you’re going in to work today? I might go catch up with a friend.”

  “Yeah, I have to go in today, but I’ll get a week from tomorrow off,” I say. Luckily for me, we’re overstaffed and the manager is a friend of mine, so it won’t be an issue to take time off. When Dean messaged saying he was coming sometime this month, I warned her about it, so she’ll be expecting it.

  “You should have given me more than a day’s warning when you found out the date you were coming,” I chide, watching as he devours a piece of bacon.

  “I only found out when I messaged you,” he explains. “I was meant to perform at a festival but it got cancelled, so I pretty much just booked the next flight here straight away.”

  “Oh, I see. Well you’ll have to amuse yourself for today, but you’ve got me from tomorrow on. And what friend?” I ask, being nosy.

  “I still keep in touch with some friends from high school,” he says, chewing thoughtfully. “Mainly those who were in my band. Erin messaged to catch up, so I’ll go see her today.”

  Erin?

  “How lovely,” I say, wondering what this Erin looks like. I don’t remember her from school, but because she wasn’t in my grade I probably wouldn’t. “Are we going to talk about last night?” I suddenly blurt out. Why? I don’t know. Do I want to remind him of our kiss before he goes to meet some girl? Jesus, what is wrong with me?

  “We kissed, it was amazing. You saw me naked, it was… big,” he says, unable to keep a straight face.

  I look down into my coffee mug, wishing it would swallow me whole. “Well it was big, okay?”

  He starts laughing, broad shoulders shaking with the force of it. “I wish you could have seen your face!”

  “Yeah, laugh it up, jerk,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Excuse me if I don’t have many hot naked men walking through my apartment! If I wasn’t fazed by it, that’s when you should worry.”

  “Hot, hey?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Nice to be appreciated.”

  I blink slowly a few times.

  “The whole fucking world appreciates you, what are you on about?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t care what the world thinks.” He glances up at me, his green eyes soft. “I care what you think.”

  I want to run my hands through his hair, I want to kiss his lips, but I don’t.

  I can’t.

  This has escalated, and it’s not good.

  Why does it feel so good though?

  I don’t think I’ve ever been so at war with myself.

  “You know how great I think you are, Dean,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “And I don’t just mean because of that body, or that… giant appendage.”

  His eyes dance with amusement, but he doesn’t laugh outright this time. “I’d tell you exactly what I think of you, Sabina, but I don’t think you’re ready to hear it.”

  “That bad, is it?” I joke, tapping my fingers on the table. I just played off his comment. How much of a bitch am I? When I said I didn’t think any woman would be good enough for him, I think that included me too.

  “No, that good,” he says, not letting me get away with it. Our eyes connect and hold. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

  Or maybe he is.

  I glance down at my watch. “Shit! Do you want to drop me off so you can take my car?”

  He nods. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” I say, scowling. He bought me the damn thing after all, but even if he didn’t, what’s mine is his. “We have to leave within five minutes though or I’m going to be late.”

  Dean heads to the bathroom quickly while I put my shoes on and tidy up the kitchen. When we’re in the car, Babyface’s “What if” plays on the radio, the lyrics of the song hanging between us. The ride is short and silent, and when he stops outside the bank, I lean forward and kiss him on his cheek, catching him off guard. “Bye. Have a good day and I’ll see you after work.”

  “What time do I come and get you?” he calls after me as I start to get out of the car.

  “Five. Do you want to go have an early dinner afterwards?” I remember that taking him out in public usually turns into a huge debacle. “Actually, never mind, we’ll order in.”

  I close the door and smile at him, then walk into my work. When I reach the doors, I chance a look back at the car to see him still there, waiting for me to go inside before he drives away. I wave at him then enter, the song still playing on my mind.

  What if?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How was work?” he asks when he picks me up.

  “Long,” I say. Especially knowing that Dean is here. All I wanted to do is get out of there so I could come home and hang out with him. “My manager said I can take a week off, no problem, so that’s good though.” I stare at his profile. “How was your day? How was your catch up with Erica?”

  “Erin,” he corrects.

  “Oh, right.”

  Who knew I could be so petty? Not me.

  “Yeah it was good. We went to the beach and had a drink and a chat,” he says casually, like he didn’t just tell me he went on what sounds like a date. Even if he had a date, I can’t exactly say anything. He’s not mine. Sure, we had an amazing kiss, and a few moments, but that’s all we have. Besides friendship and a connection, which are the perfect foundation to build a relationship on, but whatever.

  Fuck.

  Did I just think that?

  “Sounds like a fun day,” I reply, glancing out the window. I decide a subject change is in order. “I’m super hungry. What should we do for dinner?”

  “I cooked,” he says simply.

  “You cooked?” I ask, brows rising. “What did you cook? Is my kitchen still in one piece?” I tease. I remember how he’d made me fried rice the last time, and I know that he’s pretty good in the kitchen.

  He grins, dimples popping. “Of course it is, and you’ll have to wait and see. I thought you�
�d be tired after being on your feet all day, so I didn’t want you to have to worry about what we’re going to eat.”

  “Thanks, nice of you,” I say, wondering how a man can be so thoughtful. Ben never cooked for me. Once again, it’s messed up to compare the two, but I can’t seem to help it. They’re two different men, with different personalities and outlooks on life.

  “Well,” he murmurs, “I’m a nice guy.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Amnesia” by 5 Seconds of Summer plays on the radio and I mouth along to the words.

  “You know the lyrics to every song that comes on the radio,” he says, shaking his head. “Is that what you really do at work? Listen to music?”

  “Sometimes,” I admit, laughing. “When I’m working on something in my office I’ll put my earphones in and multitask, but it’s not the radio. I have different playlists on my phone depending on my mood, so I just pick one.”

  I don’t mention that one of my playlists is of all his songs, and it’s the one I listen to the most.

  “I still can’t believe you gave me this car, by the way. What did you do? Come here, buy a brand new car just for a few days then give it to me?”

  “I bought it for you,” he says, smirking. “I drove it for a few days and didn’t let you, both so you wouldn’t know it was for you and so you’d want it more, then gave it to you when I’d already left so you couldn’t try and return it.”

  “You bought me a brand new amazing car,” I say, shaking my head in astonishment. “I still have to pinch myself and remember that it’s actually mine, even after a year.”

  “It’s nothing, Sabina. You’ve been driving the same car for years, and I know you’ve always had your eyes on this one. It’s what you said you’d always buy if you got rich.”

  I grin. “I did say that, didn’t I? So because I didn’t get rich, and you did, you bought it for me? Breaking my independent woman streak, Dean.”