“Anyway you want.”
I’ve done this a hundred times. I’ve used a pencil, a paper clip, a nail file, a donut hole, a squirt gun, a book cover, my pinky toe, a red Sharpie marker, my guitar pick, etc. But never once have I used my tongue. The deal is, the person who wedges them in gets to take them out, anyway they like.
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“Promise.”
“No. You have to say the words, then pinky swear me at the same time. You know the rules.”
“I, Tess Harlow, do solemnly swear and promise on this pinky swear that under no circumstances—regardless of the method with which you use to remove the Chiclets wedged between my two front teeth—will I get mad. You want me to sign in blood, too? I have some handy…I have my period in case you’re wondering, but I’m sure you’ve already guessed that.”
“Nope, you can keep your tampon tucked. The pinky swear and oath are all I need.”
Well, you heard her. She swore on it, and in our rule book, pinky swears count. I tip her chin up, take my lips to hers, and suck the Chiclets out in a kiss, and then—because I have no other choice—I just keep on kissing.
I kiss and kiss and kiss. I kiss her more deeply than I’ve ever kissed anyone in my life, and I’ve done a boatload of kissing, let me tell you. I kiss every fleshy sweet bit of her lips and her mouth as her tongue slides over mine, teasing me with demanding claim. She undresses me with tiny moans and tender, rousing licks. I answer her with deep primal moans of want. She drags my bottom lip into her mouth, then baits me with soul-swelling penetrating probes of her tongue. We’re making love with our mouths with bold, emotion-filled liberation. I don’t for anything let her take a breath anywhere other than from my lungs. And, not for one second does she resist me, my tongue, my lips, my hands on her face. Nothing will get between us and this pleasureful, decadent kiss. Time stands still and I listen to all of it. I listen to her moan in my mouth, I listen to the sounds of our lips and our tongues sliding, and more than anything I listen to my heart speaking its very own language of need to hers.
“Scout,” she says as she pulls away for the first time. I was not going to be the one to pull away. Not even if there was a bull pulling me off of her—not this time.
“Hey…was that okay?”
“Uh-huh,” she says as her eyes dance between my lips and my eyes.
We don’t talk about it beyond that. Well, not right away, anyhow. Instead, I feed her bite after bite of my homemade-just-for-Tess mac-n-cheese. You’ve never seen a happier girl in your life. And as for me…yeah, I’m pretty fucking stoked, too.
CHAPTER SIX
TESS
Never has something so precarious felt so right. I know, I know…I’m engaged, so that makes this right a wrong. Can two wrongs make a right? Two kisses that felt so very right? Technically I shouldn’t even be kissing him, nor should he be kissing me, since he’s dating Liberty Storm. But…the heart wants what it wants.
I’ll admit I’m more confused than ever, for a myriad of reasons. I’m not quite sure where to start or what to ask—of me, my heart, or him. Does this mean he’s interested in me? Or was that just a really blindingly luscious kiss? I can’t possibly break off my engagement with Creed over an awesome kiss, that would moronic. Right? I’ve been engaged for almost a year, we’re coming into the final home stretch, and now this. I’m weeks away…yeah, weeks. My bachelorette party is this weekend at my mountain cabin, and the only guys invited are Scout and Striker.
What exactly is the protocol on kissing one’s very best friend when you are both with someone else?
“So you did all of this for me as an apology for that kiss?”
“Yes, darling girl, I did. I’ve never in all our years seen you so damn mad. Never. I mean, you were for sure pissed that I screwed Roxanne in high school, but even that was something you glossed over. Do you accept my apology? I have some presents to twist your little arm.”
“Show me the goods…and maybe I’ll forgive you.”
“Put out your hand,” he tells me, and I put my non-ring hand up to his face. “This is a promise ring,” he said. “I promise to never hurt you like that again. I mean, I might fuck up once in a while, but I won’t do anything ever again unless you pinky swear me first or you ask me to, okay?”
“Okay, that’s…well…that’s putting a lot on me, isn’t it?”
“Well, I think it has to be that way. You’re engaged to be married in a few weeks. I’m coming to your bachelorette party to eat cake in the shape of a cock and shit like that. I’m kind of in between a rock and a hard place.”
“That’s a lot to think about. In not a lot of time.” I’m eyeing the plastic bauble on my hand, flashing it about like a girl does when she just gets engaged.
“Do you still want me to come to your bachelorette party? You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t. I already botched up your fitting day. The last thing I want is to mess that up, too. Would you rather it just be you and the girls?”
“No! I want you there.” My legs are snugged up on his lap, his hands just under my bottom. I crash my shoulder into him a few times to make my point. “You’re my best friend; you have to come! Please don’t back out. We were going to drive there together to set up and stuff—I don’t want to do that alone. Please come.”
“Yeah, of course I will. I’ll do whatever you want me to, okay, boss?”
“Please…more mac-n-cheese.” I love when he feeds me. I love that I’m in his lap, eating his mac-n-cheese, wearing his promise ring. I love it until I look down to see my hand—with my engagement ring staring back at me—resting on my wedding dress. I slide it under my leg. I know he sees me do it. It’s just I can’t have that big thing glaring at me while I’m enjoying this…way too much.
“These things are for you.” He puts a little stash of plastic gumball-machine bubbles into my lap as he continues to give me overly ample bits of mac-n-cheese, licking off the bits that fall to the side of my lips, washing me with his tongue.
“Wanna do another shot?” I ask while opening my first plastic bubble.
“Me? Hell yeah. Why do you think I brought the whole bottle? I wasn’t sure how much lubing up I’d have to do to win you back.”
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“I’d call you a bitch, but…”
“But you know when you call me a bitch it makes me wet.”
“Your words, not mine. I know that’s your bumper sticker and all…”
“Oh, fun—stretchy handcuffs…we’re hooked for life.” I love him. What can I say? I always have. So here I am. More than a little bit lost.
“Hooked. Yes…forever, Tess. I promise you,” he says it with a bit of trepidation, a sad lilt in his voice. I don’t know how to read him. Does he want me to get married? Do I ask him how he really feels about it? Why can we talk about everything but this? He would never tell me not to, he just wouldn’t. But, he’s also waited pretty much forever to kiss me and really, in my heart of hearts, I want to be married, I want to have kids. I’ll be twenty-nine before I get married. Would I rather marry Scout than Creed? Well, if I were standing at a crossroads and both of them were there, yeah…I would choose Scout in a heartbeat.
Does that make me an awful person? Does that mean I should break off my engagement? One week before my wedding is my twenty-ninth birthday. Shit…then I’m thirty, then my ovaries are really going to start putting up a fight and kissing me good-bye. I don’t even know if I can get pregnant. Maybe we are really only meant to be friends.
“Wow, that was some daydream you just got lost in,” Scout said. “You’re still holding your shot…you sure you want that?”
“Yeah.” I slam it back. I need to stop thinking. I need to get drunk with my friend and stop any further thought. So that’s exactly what I proceed to do. I drink, eat coconut Chiclet cake, open all the plastic bubbles and fall asleep laughing my ass off just like I’ve done a thousand other times with my very best friend.
/>
I want him, all of him. The problem is, if that’s what he wants—all of me, to know every inch of me—it’ll never happen. He thinks he does know all of me, but he never will. No one will.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TESS
“Sooo…Creed and Liberty are both in town? I’ll bet that’s not awkward for you and Scout.”
Rox and I are having a little pre-party drink at Scout’s bar, The Devil’s Tongue. My hands are shaking, I’m so nervous. I’m seeing Creed for the first time in a month, which is not unusual. It’s just I’m coming off of a few succulent kisses with my best friend, wondering if Creed will sense my vibe of weirdness. Roxanne sure does.
Scout and I have managed to avoid each other all week, mostly on my account. Technically I’ve been working my tail off with all the new photos for his holographic concert tour. Basically I’m playing paper dolls with his mostly nude body all day. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t occasionally one-handed.
“Rox, don’t. I’m a wreck already. Creed’s here for two days, flying in on his jet just to see me before my bachelorette party. Maybe he’s wants to surprise me for my twenty-ninth? I’m not asking. I have no idea why Liberty is in town this week. Scout told me she was on tour.”
“Maybe he’s cutting her loose…putting her out to pasture, you know.”
“And maybe he’s not.”
“What do you want him to do?”
“How the hell should I know? I’m getting married in two weeks. Two weeks.”
“So we’re all gonna hang out tonight like we’re chummy buddies? Again, that’s not awkward at all. Creed will love the concert, right? This is gonna be some fun to witness.”
“Ha ha! Actually Scout thought it would be cool for Liberty to see, and he thinks Creed is being an idiot for not using my technology—he thinks Creed should see it live in action. Even though I know Creed will just snicker. He’s just not into the concept.”
“Well, no shit. It doesn’t exactly afford him the opportunity for hundreds of concert babes to throw themselves at his feet or give him the chance to go back to his dressing room to get high, now does it?”
“You are such a bitch. That’s my fiancé you’re talking shit about.”
“Oh, please! Get your head out of your ass already. I meant it all wrapped in love, sugar, and bacon. You know I like Creed. Okay, that’s a lie. I do like looking at him, though.”
“Stop talking. You’re making my stomach sour.”
“Fine. Let’s talk bachelorette party! So, since Scout and Striker are coming, we should all play strip poker, right? The girls will love getting all naked in front of those two man-pops.”
“No! We are not playing strip poker at my bachelorette party. No.”
“What about skinny-dipping in the hot tub? Or are you going to get all Liberty Storm on me and not want to get your pussy all wet?”
“Shut up! I love skinny-dipping. I’m just not sure I want to this time.”
“Why not? Because Scout’s there? He’s seen your little white hiney before. So what’s the big deal? Plus you do about the most half-assed skinny-dipping on this side of the planet. You never take off your shirt. The rest of us sit there all high-headlights and you just keep your bra and shirt on. What fun is that?”
“That’s my business and you know it. You’re so nosy tonight. Jesus. Just back off. You’re making me even more nervous.”
“I’m sorry, love muffin. I’m not meaning to do that. Want another beer? Might help settle your nerves. Or maybe a shot or a lobotomy?”
“A beer. I think just a beer. No wait…a shot. No…agh. Just get me something, I can’t even decide this. Just be my friend and help me.”
“Beer, shot, and full strip lobotomy coming right up! Lean on me tonight, okay? If you need me to distract Scout or Creed, I can do it. I’ll just shake my moneymakers at them, or whatever else you need.”
“God knows I can count on you, Rox. You and your cans are always there for me. Thank you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SCOUT
I haven’t seen Tess all week and now, walking into my bar, seeing her with Rox, makes my heart hammer. I have a little guilt about Liberty coming into town with all that’s gone on with Tess, but not enough for it to cause me any regrets. Tess has made no mention of our newfound intimacy in any form. No texts, no calls, nothing. I told her, ball’s in her court. No pressure. Even though I feel like I have boulder on my shoulders. So maybe it’s just status quo? Maybe we really are just back to being best friends. The problem is, her wedding day is creeping up on us and if she does or says nothing, then I guess that’s how this thing’s gonna shake out. For the record, it makes me nuts.
The only beacon of clarity I’ve been able to put my finger on over the last few days is that my relationship with Liberty is over. I’m ending it. I won’t even fuck her tonight. I hope to hell that’s the plan with Tess and Creed. I want to tell her, Please don’t, Tess…please don’t fuck your fiancé. What kind of a best friend says that? You see…I can’t do that to her. I can’t tell her not to sleep with her fiancé. Can I? Too cruel?
“Well, look at you two beautiful girls starting the party early. You guys are like chum sitting here all gorgeous and ready for the bottom feeders.”
“Looks like we caught one! Hurry, Tess, sink the hook.”
“Rox, I can always count on you, now can’t I? Where the hell is Striker? I told him to get his ass here early tonight.”
“He’s here. He’s in the back just tweaking the equipment, but we’re pretty much good to go. Everything looks great, and I have a little special surprise for you,” Tess says with a wink.
Please tell me the surprise is that she is dumping Creed. Please—even though I never pray, be good to me, God—let those be the words she speaks.
“Do tell…or are you just going to tease me?” She looks unbelievably gorgeous tonight. And I can’t help but wonder if she looks this way because Creed is coming to town or because of our lip-locking. She went a little further tonight: a few more curls in her hair, a bit more shadow on her eyes…just little things that I notice.
“Come with me.” She hops off her bar stool, stumbling a tiny bit into me. That would be the five-inch heels paired with the line-up of empty shots on the bar, I would imagine.
“Steady, girl…you okay?” I grab her around the waist to help her find balance, just happy as hell to be touching her.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m a little nervous tonight. Rox has been plying me with some extra happy juice.”
She grabs my hand and leads me to the back room, where we manage our technology for the holographic concerts. We walk into a crew of five guys tweaking stuff, getting ready for tonight’s show. She takes me straight past them into the back booth where we do previews. It’s dark and smallish, and in our current situation, it’s amazingly intimate.
She walks to the very end of the room and starts monkeying around with the levers, then turns to me, leans against the wall, and lets out a deep, surrender-like breath. She says nothing, but her vibes are intense. So intense that she pulls me right into her. She doesn’t take her eyes off of mine and the whole while she’s tracing her forefinger along her bottom lip. And on her forefinger is the plastic promise ring I’d given her. It stops me in my tracks, but not enough that I don’t place one hand on the wall next to her head, caging her in.
“Hey, beautiful…what’s going on tonight? Am I making you nervous, Tess?”
“I’m just…I don’t know.” Her eyes dance past me, then bounce to my chest, my arm, my lips…she doesn’t know where to look. Her foot taps on the ground. Sounds like nerves to me.
“Is it because Creed’s coming? Or Liberty? Talk to me. It’s just us. I haven’t seen you all week…I miss you. I’m guessing that’s been by design?”
“My stomach is just…it’s all in knots. I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. I’m a little lost right now.”
“Come here.” I pull her into a hug—a solid I love yo
u hug. Nothing more than just a boost of confidence to let her know that we’re okay, that I’m here no matter what. “We’re good, right? Me and you? Don’t be nervous about me, okay? I love you, and no matter how your next few days go, I will love you on the other side regardless. Now, I just have one question for you.”
I have to ask. But I know I need to do it in a way that doesn’t freak her out. So I give her my best I-really-want-to-get-into–your-pants smile, along with a wink, while I lift her chin up, forcing her eyes to look at me. Then I go in close to her ear and whisper, “Are you going to fuck your fiancé tonight?”
Cruel, maybe; thought-provoking, definitely.
“Scout!” Then she smacks me as hard as she can. I wrap her in my arms and kiss her forehead. No lips. Not now. Not that I don’t want to—you know I want to kiss those lips—but it just wouldn’t be right tonight. Not for either of us.
“Sorry, baby. I had to. Plus, look at that smile it brought me, as well as a nice right hook. Have you been doing push-ups?” I see her melt a little, relaxing her shoulders, her face.
“Now, what’s my surprise? You didn’t bring me back here so I could harass you, did you? Because if we’re back here for another ten minutes, you might have a lot to be nervous about.”
“Get over here so I can give you your surprise.” She hits Play and the holographic concert starts on six windows across the huge screen on the wall, each one showing a separate segment. She’s standing facing the screen and I’m behind her, so I automatically wrap my arms around her body, holding her while we watch together. It’s what we would do any other time. I don’t want her to feel anything weird with me. I refuse to be the reason she feels nervous, if I can help it.
“You, my girl, are a brilliant genius. Really, Tess, this is incredible. I’m so proud of you for all of this, and I’m lucky as hell that I get to see you strut your stuff. It’s cutting edge. The fact that this concert is playing tonight at seven hundred bars around the world and will bring in almost three millions bucks to the company…it’s unreal, baby. And we just have to party and enjoy the show. I mean, my God, all these little bars paying so little for this performance. Have you seen some of the e-mails we’ve been getting? Seriously, this it it, Tess. This is it, because of you. You are going to be a ga-billionare, sweetheart. I’ll be able to say I knew you when, and just—”
A Mess of Reason Page 5