One of the Guys

by A. R. Perry

  An unintentional gasp escapes me because, hello, this is my best friend I’m having dirty thoughts about, and my face rushes with heat.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  It’s so dark I can only make out the outline of his body, but I’ve stared at his face so many times over the past nine, almost ten, years, I can imagine exactly how it looks. Eyebrows scrunched in. Lips pulled down at the corners. He’s concerned because he thinks I’m having some freak-out about being locked in the dark.

  Not that I’m wishing I could trace the outlines of his muscles without clothing in the way. Because if he knew that, he would run out of this closet faster than I could blink.

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat, making sure there’s no sign of the breathlessness I feel. “Just wondering how Ryan will exact his revenge when he finds out I was in his room.”

  “In some very imaginative way, I’m sure.” His voice sounds strained. Almost husky.

  “That’s what I’m scared of.” My hands drop to Spencer’s arms. Only then do I realize he’s still holding on to me.

  When my legs step forward without permission of my brain his grip tightens, digging into the soft curve of my waist. His breath ghosts against my lips, coming in quick pants that match the sudden thumping of my heart. We’ve been closer than this before. Hell, we’ve slept in the same bed so why—

  His lips crash into mine. It happens so fast my thoughts screech to a halt and I have no time to prepare myself for the way my stomach twists or the stabbing sensation through my heart.

  Heat rushed through my limbs, bringing with it a flood of emotions I can’t quite decipher. After several thunderous heartbeats, the shock melts away and I kiss him back. My lips mold to his, holding on for dear life and trying to keep up with the frantic mingling of breath and hands as he takes control of my mouth and obliterates any grasp I have on rational thoughts.

  And then he’s gone.

  In a lightning-fast move, Spencer lets go and slams into the wall behind him, knocking a box off the top shelf with a noise loud enough to alert Ryan of our hiding spot.

  Spencer exhales and all I can do is stand there and wonder if I just hallucinated. There’s no way my best friend just kissed the stuffing out of me and set fire to a burning need in my veins.

  “Rylee, I—” I shut him up with a kiss.

  Yup. Apparently, that’s what we’re doing now. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t be doing it and yet I can’t tone down the need to touch him. To kiss him. Now it’s as necessary as breathing and I can’t deny the urge.

  Spencer stills under my touch. The firm muscles of his shoulders tense under my hands. For several agonizing seconds, I think he might deny me. I’m back to wondering if I had some lucid fantasy. But then after one ragged exhale, his arms wrap around me bringing me flush against his body.

  And then there’s nothing but sensation.

  Our location slips away.

  Time no longer matters.

  The anticipation of being caught somehow makes this so much more frightening yet electrifying.

  Spencer kisses me in a way I never knew possible. His tongue slips inside my mouth, gentle but demanding, and I’m gone. So gone. I never knew I could want a person like this before. Desperation is the only thing that comes to mind. I’m desperate for his touch. Desperate for this to never stop because I’m afraid my heart might shatter into a thousand pieces. I may not be able to go another day and not experience this.

  Spencer pushes me backward until my spine bumps into the wall. The weight of his body on top of mine is extraordinary. Safe. Warm. Loved…

  The realization hits me at the exact moment the closet door flies open.

  “Gotcha!” Ryan yells, and I jump slamming my head into the clothing rod.

  I groan, rubbing what I’m sure will be a lump and pray he didn’t see us. But he did. I know it because for the first time in his entire life, Ryan has gone silent. Mute. And so, so still.

  Being the coward I am, I run, leaving Spencer alone to deal with my brother and with no explanation from me. I can’t. Not tonight. Not before I have time to think about what the hell just happened.

  But even as my door clicks shut behind me, I know. The way I’ve been feeling the past few weeks becomes blatantly clear.

  My fingers drift up to trace my still tingling, swollen lips and I know.

  I’ve gone and fallen in love with my best friend.

  And now nothing will ever be the same.

  Mere hours after closing my eyes I wake up and the familiar pang of fear is back. It might be early afternoon, but won’t be able to sleep away the truth.

  I kissed my best friend last night.

  No, correction, I made out with my best friend. Hard. And daylight hasn’t brought any clarity to the matter because I still want to do it again. Every day for the rest of my life. Even at the risk of our friendship.

  That exact thought stops me from getting out of bed and running across the street. Nothing should be more important than our friendship.

  Sure, he kissed me first, and he didn’t hold back, but it doesn’t mean he feels the same way I do. It doesn’t mean…

  I groan and bury my head under all my pillows praying for some weird disease to come along that causes short-term amnesia. Because there’s no way in hell I’ll ever move past what happened last night. If I see him I’ll want to be in his arms with his lips all over me. If I see him with another girl, I’ll want to punch her face off caveman-style and claim him as mine.

  Might as well call this the black plague of our friendship because that kiss, that mind-numbing, amazing, confusing, extraordinary kiss, ended my life as I know it.

  “Hey, loser,” Ryan calls from the doorway.

  “Go away,” I mumble from under my pillow fort. But I know he heard because his laugh rumbles through the quiet room.

  “So, you and—”

  “Go away!” I shout, sitting up and knocking the pillows on the floor. I am so not having this conversation with my infuriating other half. All he’ll do is mock me.

  But when I sneak a peek at his face, there is no mirth there. Just a slight smile and understanding in his eyes.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Wondering if you wanted breakfast. Mom made waffles before she had to head somewhere. Not sure where because I stopped listening.”

  I stared at him for a few seconds. Is he letting me off the hook? No way. Ryan would never let an opportunity to torture me slip by. He probably alerted the whole house and they are waiting downstairs to mock me mercilessly.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “There’s fresh strawberries.”

  I glare. He’s not luring me out of this room with food.

  “Fine,” he sighs. “You also have a visitor. I shoulda mentioned that first. He’s on the porch.”

  Fear strikes my gut so fast I almost puke. Early this morning I texted Spencer that my mom sprang some girly trip on me and I wouldn’t make the skate park.

  Had he seen my mom leave without me?

  Crap.

  I bolt from the bed, pulling my hair in the messiest ponytail known to mankind and rush down the stairs. All my previous reasoning flew right out the window because knowing Spencer is here, right downstairs, jump-started something in me and the need to be near him can no longer be ignored. I guess my limit of self-control is walls and an entire street separating us.

  The front door bangs against the wall drowning out Ryan’s laughter as I rush outside. And run straight into a wall of muscle. Except this isn’t the chest that pressed into mine last night.

  Horror slides through me in a wave turning my legs into Jell-O when I glance up and am met with sparkling blue eyes and an amused smirk.

  Jax.

  Jax is here on my porch.

  And I’m dressed…my gaze flicks to my sweatpants and an oversize shirt. Awesome. I resemble a hobo. Not that it should matter how he sees me. Yet I can’t stop embarrassment from heating my cheeks.
/>
  “Well, aren’t you adorable in the morning.” He smiles, flashing me his perfect teeth. “Or I should say afternoon.”

  “I had a late night.” My hands slide over the side of my head, trying and failing to smooth down flyaways. Nothing but a shower and strong hair spray will get rid of them at this point. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

  His large body leans toward me and I fight the urge to lean away. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I would see if you were free for lunch.”

  “Oh.” Yeah, that’s all I have because after my freak-out at school we haven’t spoken. Not once.

  “Or.” His eyebrow quirks and his jaw ticks. “You can come with me to Malcolm’s party tonight?”

  “Another one?” Oh, kill me. My brain needs to regain control of my mouth pronto.

  “Yeah. Another one.” His warm hand cups my cheek as he takes another step forward, boxing me in against the door. “And maybe this time you can stay for the whole thing.”

  Apprehension must be clear on my face because he laughs, filling my nose with the sweet smell of alcohol. Is he already drinking?

  “Don’t worry.” His lips hit my earlobe sending goosebumps down my arm and freezing me in place. “It’s at his house this time. No need to pee behind a tree.”

  The next second his lips are on mine in a sloppy kiss. My fingers flex on his shoulders, keeping him from coming any closer as my brain has a freaking meltdown, leaving me frozen from shock.

  It lasts only a few seconds before he puts a few inches between our mouths, a dopey expression on his face. “Incentive,” he whispers, then pulls away.

  I fight the urge to run inside the house and scrub the sensation of his hands and mouth off of me in the shower. Instead, I force a smile. “Um. I can’t make it tonight. And I don’t think you and I…are going to happen.”

  Anger flares on his face, setting his jaw and jutting it forward. From this angle, he kind of resembles a baboon. Just like Spencer said.

  Spencer.

  Shit.

  My gaze flies over Jax’s shoulder, and sure enough, my best friend is standing on his porch with murder in his eyes.

  “Thanks for the invite though.” I pat his chest as he takes a stiff step backward. This might be the only time in history he’s been flat out turned down.

  Without another word, he turns from me and thumps down the front steps. I wait until he’s pulled away from the curb before risking another glance at Spencer, but he’s gone. His front door is wide open but he’s nowhere.

  Shoeless and with little thought, I run across the street and up his front steps, bursting through the door, panting.

  Spencer isn’t there, but boxes litter the floor. Everywhere. It looks nothing like the house I’ve been in thousands of times.

  This is more than spring cleaning.

  “Spence?” I call. Furniture is all wrapped in plastic. No pictures are on the walls. Panic hits me full force as I stumble up the stairs. “Spence?”

  I find him in his room, staring out the window with hands clenched into fists. He’s mad. I get that. Jax kissed me hours after he did. This can’t look good, but if he’ll let me explain he’ll see I don’t want to kiss Jax. The only lips I want are his.

  “Get. Out.” Spencer growls in a voice that sounds nothing like my best friend.

  “Spence, I—”

  “Get out!” He roars, turning on me with such hatred in his eyes I can’t even breathe let alone move. “Are you deaf? I said get out of my room. My house. My life!”

  Ragged breath enters my lungs as my chin trembles. This is what I was afraid of. Of ruining our friendship. And now the situation is so much worse because of Jax.

  “Spence, why—”

  “You know what, it’s fine.” He shoulders past me stomping down the stairs as I follow him with absolutely no words forming. “This isn’t my house for much longer. You stay. Invite your boyfriend over.”

  I watch his tense back round into the kitchen as all life drains from my limbs. Did he just say this wouldn’t be his house much longer? Yes, he said other things, absurd things, but that’s all I can focus on.

  “Where are you going?” I wheeze out as I stand in the hallway watching as he wraps glasses in bubble wrap.

  “To Washington.”

  Nope. I was wrong. There goes the last bit of life in me along with stupid, stupid hope. So that’s what the kiss had been about. He knew he was leaving. He knew he would never have to face repercussions. Why not kiss his best friend? Who cares if I fell for him when he’ll never have to deal with it?

  Tears form on my lower lashes but I refuse to let them fall. Knowledge is power and he’ll never know how much this tore me open. How much my heart bleeds from the loss of hope. Because that’s all I had. One moment of realization followed by hours of hope he felt the same. That I wasn’t out on a ledge by myself.

  Turns out I was.

  I nod once, turning from the anger etched deep into every line of his face and run for the door. Why couldn’t this afternoon’s events have happened in reverse? I turned down Jax because my heart was no longer in it. And now I’m left with nothing. Weeks of chasing him just to turn him down at a pivotal moment when it is clear he wanted me. Me. Not all the other skanks who would be at the party. Not even me in a pretty dress.

  In a matter of ten minutes, I ruined not only my chances at an amazing summer with the guy I used to worship, but also a ten-year friendship. Scratch that. Spencer ruined our friendship the moment his lips touched mine. The moment he decided without my permission that he would make me fall just to leave me hanging.

  Well, screw him.

  Mumbling to myself, I march past a startled Ryan, and straight up the stairs. I’m going to that party tonight and I’m going to look so damn amazing Jax will have no choice but to forgive me.

  And as for Spencer, well he can go screw himself.

  A stupid rock catches the thin, sky-high heel of one of my boots and I stumble to the side, catching myself on a tree. I tug down the hem of my skirt, growling as I straighten and march down the dimly lit street toward the rows of cars and rumbling music. After having a couple of hours to calm down a bit, I’ve concluded this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.

  Yet, it didn’t stop me from throwing on a black leather skirt I knew was skimpy before buying and pairing it with a pair of knee-high boots I stole from my mom. At least the green off the shoulder top I have on is covering my torso and half of my arms. Still, I feel naked. Exposed. Or maybe that’s my heart bleeding all over the place. With every step I take toward Jax it erodes. The damn thing has got to be black by now.

  As I got dressed, I watched a moving truck come and four guys load up the entire house I practically grew up in. Then Spencer got into his car, not even sparing a glance in my direction and drove off after the truck.

  So I added more black eyeliner and pulled my hair into a tight, scalp-tingling ponytail, and headed downstairs to catch my cab to the party.

  I had the driver drop me off two blocks away, not wanting to draw attention. That’s how I find myself walking alone in the dark in a pair of boots that could bust my ankle if I step wrong.

  Ryan tried to question me as I left, but I blew him off. Part of my broken heart is owed to him. After all, he was the one who first hinted at Spencer and me as more than friends. On several occasions as a matter of fact. Had he kept his big mouth shut, I may never have been confused enough to let myself fall into such a terrible position.

  Jax would have picked me up and we would be having a good time instead of wishing there were a few more streetlamps to light my way.

  The music swells, growing louder as I make my way up the long drive. This house could not be on a bigger plot of land. I swear Malcolm’s parents must own half the block.

  Doubt creeps in was I climb the fifty freaking stairs to the front door and the few people outside shoot me curious, bordering on odd, looks. Yes, I’m aware I don’t exactly fit in here. No amount of
makeup and clothes with change seventeen years of being me. My stomach churns as I cross and uncross my arms, fighting the urge to pull down the skirt yet again.

  Music rattles the windows and my bones before I step inside. The front door is open and from the porch where I hesitate, I can see bodies filling the living room and hallways. This is far rowdier than the party in the field. More claustrophobic.

  I turn sideways and squeeze past a group hanging in front of the door and smack my elbow into a girl as one of her rowdy friends sways into me.

  “Watch it!” she snaps, shooting me a stink-eye and tugging the guy toward her as if I’m two seconds away from making a pass.

  “Sorry.” I rush past them farther into the house to a less crowded corner. From there I scan the faces of the many partygoers searching for Jax’s wide frame.

  I don’t see him anywhere but spot Zoe and Haylee in the living room with a bunch of the guys from the football team.

  Lord help me if I run into Will. He’ll freak out and make a scene I’ll never be able to recover from. No way in hell do I want to relive something like that for a whole school year.

  I just need to find Jax. We can sneak off somewhere private or he can take me home because I forgot my phone and as I walk down the hallway toward the kitchen, I’m hit with how much I don’t want to be here alone. Not with the way several guys have leered at me as I passed.

  Where the hell is Jax?

  I turn the corner into the kitchen and run smack-dab into someone.

  “Sorry about that.”

  I glance up and up into the smiling face of a guy I don’t recognize. He’s got dark eyes, boarding on black and what my mom calls a Roman nose that’s crooked as if it’s been broken. His jaw flexes as his gaze drops lower to my bare thighs.

  Letting out a nervous laugh, I step back as far as the tight space will allow.

  “You look like you’re on a mission,” he drawls, dark eyes once again settling on my face.