Without Scars

by Jones, Ayla

  A black car pulled up just as I walked to the front. Nikki had invited Lea and Tyler, and the two of them had brought guests. “Damn, it’s about time. Did you have to build the car first?” I yelled. Nikki was the first one out, smiling, wind catching her hair. She was in a white button-down and my favorite pair of her jeans. Goddamn, they were tight. Every inch of my body reacted, like a ripple of electricity was rolling through me. Along with the rapid development of our friendship, the strength of my attraction to Nikki surprised me, too. It had been there from day one, but it wasn’t diminishing in the time we were spending together. At all.

  “Is this happening in slo-mo for you? Is that why you’re looking at me like that? Got a fantasy of a hot girl bringing you cupcakes?” she said, clutching a big pink box from Castles and Cupcakes.

  “Fantasy? You wouldn’t need the cupcakes,” I whispered when we hugged. “You wouldn’t need anything…”

  “You sure?” Nikki opened the box, dipped her finger deep into the frosting of one cupcake, and licked it off. Shit. A blood surge went straight to my dick. She picked up the cupcake she’d just deflowered and bit into it. “I bet you’re going to save that image for when you’re alone, huh?”

  “Fuck yeah…” Ever since she’d told me what I’d said to her in my drunken haze on the couch, it had sort of become a joke between us.

  Except my hard-on was really fucking serious right now. Unluckily for Samira. Goddammit. No fucking way I’d be able to concentrate with Nikki on set. Definitely not today.

  “I wanna meet your friends,” I said after groaning quietly, needing my mind off my erection. Nikki pulled me toward the group of people waiting by the car, and I went down the line shaking hands as she introduced me. First to Tyler and Lola, then Lea and Camryn. Today’s shoot was risqué, but I’d told Nikki it was cool for Tyler, Lola, and Camryn to come because the house had private beach access and a pool; my sisters were here, too.

  I led them inside, gave them a quick tour of the place, and showed them where to sit to be completely out of the way. The set was pretty chaotic right now: Samira was flipping through her script a final time while a woman from Makeup patted powder onto her face. The costume designer was sewing a top, and her assistant was shoving bracelets up Samira’s arm. The lighting guys were positioning the lights for the best angles. The production assistants were hauling in the last pieces of furniture so that this particular room looked like our old dorm room.

  I snapped a picture of Samira from afar and attached it to a tweet:

  Darable: Where I get to put my mouth today.

  LuxHasAHotMom @Darable: Sending this tweet to my husband right now. Promise to bring nice flowers to your grave, asshole, she replied. Several other replies came immediately: a few witty responses, some people begging us to follow them back, and internet trolls being dicks, but the fans of How to Fuck up a Friendship loved it when Samira and I sparred.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Nikki grinning and heading my way. I stood up straighter and wondered if she’d noticed I was in a shirt almost like the one she’d complimented me on a while back. Lately, she’d made me feel so off center and self-conscious. I got caught up in my thoughts about her impression of me. I wasn’t necessarily stumbling over what to say when I was around her, but I always hoped it was something that would make her laugh and keep talking to me.

  I bumped her shoulder when she was standing next to me. Our hands touched and she clasped them together. “I’m glad you’re here today. We’ve both been so busy,” I said.

  “I just saw you on Wednesday.”

  “That was days ago.” I kissed the back of her hand. “And you passed out before that episode of Sons of Anarchy was over. Slept the whole night, too. So I ate all the queso without you.”

  “And I bet you watched the other episodes, too, didn’t you?”

  “Yup. I’m, like, three ahead.”

  “Bastard.” Nikki shoved me backward. “So…I know it’s your big night and everything, but I just got a text from SoBe Sexy…and I had to tell you. You are looking at Mayhem of the SoBe Sexy Sinners & Saints show!”

  “Holy shit,” I said as I hugged her. “I knew it! I knew you’d get it. Congrats, baby girl, I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you!” She released me but held me again in a tighter hug. “I can’t believe it. I have to take headshots and write a bio. I have a fitting next Thursday for all the costumes. Oh! Do you think you could give me a ride?”

  “Whatever you need, Nik.”

  “We already have a show coming up for the SoBe showcase and there are spots for solos! I’d have to put together a piece and have it approved, but I’m sure I could! I don’t know how I’m going to manage it all, but I’m so hap…oh…oh!” She pulled away slowly, and in a blink I knew what she was reacting to. My boner had just been on her thigh.

  Jesus.

  Actually, you know what? Fuck it. I smirked. Oh well. Nikki knew I had a dick. She’d get to see it on screen, anyway. I wondered if she’d even watch. I wondered exactly what she thought right in the moment. Thinking about Nikki thinking about my cock left it throbbing and agonizingly curled up against my zipper.

  She laughed in a hard breath. “Well, um, you probably have to go get ready. Have a good shoot,” she said. “And nice shirt.” Keeping her beet-red face aimed at the floor, she walked back to where she’d been sitting.

  After a quick powwow with the director and a wardrobe change for me, Samira and I went to our places for today’s scene. In TV land our dorm room was enormous: two queen beds on opposite walls, luxury furniture by some dude named Jonathan Adler, and probably the kind of square footage that would cost a few grand a month here in Miami.

  “Ready?” Samira asked. I was always in awe of her transformation into Sami. Her curly hair was straight, glasses replaced her contacts, and she was wearing way less makeup than she usually wore. She kept talking to me. Well, her lips were moving, but I could feel Nikki’s eyes on me, and I looked over my shoulder to confirm. Yup, she was staring at me, rapt at first, but she broke out of her focus to smile. “…Onions.”

  “What?” I said, looking at Samira again.

  She blew her breath at her palm. “My burger had onions. I totally forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. It’s fine…”

  “Did you eat anything I should worry about? The mix with the onions could be really gross.” I responded to this. I think. I was watching Nikki bite her lip. Samira turned my face back to hers. “Remember what we talked about yesterday. I know you initially wanted to choreograph this scene, but the way you wrote it, Sami and Chuck are really into it at this point and they can’t fight it anymore. So let’s just get into it, too, okay? Take it where it goes. Don’t worry too much about what we’re doing. Let’s just get it done.” We were doing the full-blown sex scene with less people on set right after, because we’d both only be wearing flesh-colored strips over our privates. With a little assistance from Señor Cuervo we’d get through it just fine.

  “Got it…” I said.

  Samira leaned against the wall across from me and set her expression at frustration. The kids were ushered out. The director’s assistant demanded quiet on set, counted down from three, then clicked the slate board as the camera swiveled around us.

  Showtime.

  Sami questioned Chuck about why he’d been avoiding her since their talk in his bed. She was getting more agitated with each word. She wanted to slap him she threatened. Samira aced the tirade: Chuck was an asshole, he was too distant, and one minute he liked her but in the next he didn’t. He was cold. Sometimes, he was cruel. What had changed between them? What the fuck did he want from her?

  Was Nikki still watching me? I drifted out of the scene but kept my eyes on Samira’s lips for my cues. Raging heat rippled up my back, and I was anxious to look away. To look at her. Dammit, had it bothered her that I was hard when we hugged? I definitely understood the reaction to the surprise boner, but Nikki and I talked abo
ut sex all the time. Had it really caught her off guard that she might turn me on?

  Shit. I needed to focus.

  When Sami ran out of words, she became flustered and beat Chuck’s chest. “You know I could be with anyone I want, right?” He did know; that was part of the problem. He hardly ever felt worthy of her, and he knew he had no claim over her. He really wished he had an answer for what had changed. Chuck turned to watch her leave the room, looking conflicted about going after her.

  I always watch Nikki leave rooms. Her legs are so fucking shapely. Fuck. I want them around my waist. Around my neck, too. Chuck went to close the door to the dorm room, but Sami returned. Her lips crashed onto mine. I expected to feel nothing, except…

  Desire lit a million torches in my bloodstream.

  Samira grunted in surprise when I rocked her hips back against the door. Grabbing her face, I teased her lips apart with mine as I walked her over to the bed. She fell onto the mattress, resting on an elbow as she slipped her hand under my shirt. Nikki was suddenly in my periphery, and I did my best not to look at her.

  The shock faded from Samira’s eyes when I tilted her head back and grazed her bottom lip with my thumb. I dropped my mouth on hers.

  Watch me, Nik. Watch what I’d do to you. My heartbeat pounded between my ears, my core tightening with each breath. Samira unbuckled my belt. We both pulled off her top.

  I fitted myself between her thighs, and Samira snorted softly. “Oh…well…hello to you, too, Charlie,” she mumbled. “So this is what I missed out on?”

  “Shut up,” I muttered back. A lot of this scene would be dubbed with music, so as long as our lips didn’t move too much, we could whisper.

  Samira touched my back as I kissed her stomach. Fake moaning, she arched against my mouth. I ran my tongue down to her navel. This is your body, Nik. This is how I would taste you. Samira unfastened her jeans, lifted her hips, and let me yank them off. I kissed her inner thigh, just below her underwear line. I mashed my lips against hers again before moving back down between her legs.

  I adjusted my head and Samira’s hips until Nikki and I locked eyes. I gripped Samira’s thighs and held Nikki’s stare. This is you. She crossed her legs tighter. You’re who I think about. I spread Samira’s legs apart a little wider, and she ran her hand over my head. I slid my palm up her stomach to caress her breast. Samira snorted and I froze and looked at her. Her stare fell to her squeezed tit then rose back up to me. She was almost suffocating herself fighting her laughter. Finally, she chuckled out loud, breaking character completely, and pressed her hand over her mouth. Cut! The scene was over.

  “I’m so sorry, guys,” she called out to the crew, and then she patted my head. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I’m an adult-child.”

  “Shit…” I whispered as I sat up between her legs.

  Her eyes stretched wide. “Wow. That was some improv…” Samira touched her lips, growing more amused by the second. “I mean, wow. Just…wow. I hope you know that was hot enough for Patrick to kill you and bury you in our backyard when this episode premieres. Like, dismember you first, too. All out of admiration for your work, of course. So…it was her, wasn’t it? All of that just now?”

  Sweat rolled off my face and crashed down onto her stomach. I was wound up so tight—so fucking horny now—I was out of breath. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Hell yeah.” I was excited to see Nikki’s reaction to the scene. Too bad her chair was empty.

  ****

  Hillington had rented a dine-in movie theater for our private How to Fuck up a Friendship viewing party. It was a renovated vintage cinema—just one auditorium—with modern amenities and a full service kitchen and bar. A DJ was playing low volume house music in the lounge. We wanted a low-key event, even if it was specified as cocktail attire. No red carpet. No live streaming. No menu with food we couldn’t pronounce.

  I was searching for Nikki the minute I got there, but I ran into my boys first. It was rare that we were all suited up for an event, so we grabbed a passerby and had him take a picture of the group. After I sent it out to my Instagram followers (caption: “Can you believe I have this many assholes?”), Shaw guided us all to a corner near an emergency exit door. They huddled around me, patting me roughly on the head and back like we always did to celebrate the success of any one of us. Most of their praise involved calling me “bitch” and “motherfucker.” They dispersed and their interest in me died the instant the stars of “Girls Talk Cars,” another Hillington-backed web series, strolled by.

  “You all right, man?” Ghost elbowed me then hooked his arm around my neck. “I know that face, from your belated twenty-first birthday party, when you threw up in the back of my truck.”

  “I don’t know, man. I’m—”

  “Aww, are y’all Facebook official yet?” We both turned toward Deacon.

  “What, I can’t ask my friend how he’s doing on his big night without you turning it into a love story?”

  “You should know better, Ghost. Don’t give him a reason to put on his poor little rich boy act. You know he loves that shit.” He flashed teeth. A white-hot rush of adrenaline clawed through my veins and I balled my fists. This motherfucker. I shouldn’t have let Deacon get under my skin so easily, but he did it with so much calculation. Snide comments wrapped in laughter and smiles so I’d look like an idiot for getting pissed. He always forced me to be the bigger person. Otherwise, I’d be a sensitive, whiny bitch.

  I waited a few seconds until my irritation subsided, but I kept a cold stare on him. “My parents have money that they have spent a long time working for, but I’m not rich. You know that…and I didn’t say shit was wrong with me.”

  “You weren’t about to bitch about something no one else gives a fuck about? Or should have to give a fuck about?” He turned to Ghost. “Charlie has no real problems, and yet he’s always crying about something.”

  Heh. One of these days I was going to punch him in the face, and I wouldn’t feel any remorse about it. I just had to do my best to make sure it wasn’t today.

  He stared at my fists with amusement for a moment. When he looked up at me again, there was a smirk. A dare. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Like I said, soon…but not today. “Fuck you, Deek…” I smiled.

  “D, don’t be an asshole,” Ghost said calmly, but he was cautiously assessing how this was going to play out between the two of us. “Fuck, why do I bother? I know that’s like telling lions not to eat gazelle.” He pulled a baggie of colorful pills from his pocket and passed it around. “Everybody, just chill out and let’s enjoy ourselves, okay?” he said.

  “I’m fine,” I said, declining. I’d be coasting into a relaxed state soon enough on Fallon’s pills, and ready to suffer through the season two premiere. Yeah, I’d taken the pills. Right before I walked in. Fuckin’ sue me. It was going to be a long night, and I really hated watching the finished episodes. “Have you seen Nik?” I asked Ghost.

  “Yeah, she’s talking to your parents. I think they’re by the tables near the auditorium.” I clapped him on the back before I crossed the floor. My entire life, my parents had come to every event or activity my sisters and I participated in. Sometimes it was ending when they got there, but they always made the effort. They were so dedicated that they visited during Parents Weekend the entire time I was at Leeward, even though the parents of most people I knew stopped coming after sophomore year. Tonight was no different and I appreciated that, but it meant that the episode had to be perfect. I wanted to impress them. There were downsides to having a great, stable family. You didn’t want to be the one who was stumbling, threatening to shake up the balance by floundering. So I kept a lot of what I felt about my writing to myself. That I lived with the fear of failure, that it overwhelmed me, no matter how much I loved having this opportunity.

  My walking slowed when I finally spotted Nikki. I hadn’t seen her since all the women left the set to get ready for tonight. Pleasure bubbled up in my chest (not the drugs, by the way). She was wearin
g a silver gown and the overhead lights were bouncing across the material. Her hair was tousled in the front and a messy braid was lying on her shoulder.

  Wow. She was really fucking beautiful.

  “…Understand cardiothoracic surgery any better, admittedly, but I’m amazed that you have a procedure named after you now,” I heard Nikki tell my dad as I approached. “And that guy has a great story to tell his kids someday.”

  “You look amazing,” I whispered. I kissed her cheek and she linked our fingers behind her back. My mom was watching us carefully, probably trying to figure out what was going on between us.

  “Charlie said you’re a dancer?” Mom asked.

  I squeezed Nikki’s hand in support, hoping she was neither intimidated by my parents’ normal jobs nor embarrassed of hers. “Yes, I just got a principal role with a really cool dance company-slash-burlesque house, but I’m choreographing a high school musical also.” She spoke with confidence. Nikki was proud of how far she’d come and she should’ve been. I didn’t know why I was concerned.

  “Burlesque? Oh, that sounds interesting,” my mom said, smiling kindly. “I had a lot of stage fright growing up. I found my self-assurance after I became an attorney. But I’m sure my son can attest to my skills on the dance floor.”

  “Yeah, Nik, expect some competition tonight,” I said, giving my mom a wink. “All right, guys, I’m gonna steal my date for a sec.”

  “It was so nice talking to you both,” Nikki called out. We went into the empty auditorium and walked down the aisle to the front. “I’ve been invited over for dinner and to see pictures of you as an apparently really fat baby.” She gave me a conniving look then climbed onto the stage. Nikki took her shoes off and set them in the corner.

  “Yeah. I was fucking huge,” I said, trailing her. “Mom says I never actually learned to crawl; I just rolled places until I figured out how to pull myself up using the furniture.” I stood stage left as she raised her arms and leaped from one end to the other, twirling and jumping.

  I accepted the dark side of her, but I loved when she was like this. Dancing seemed to bring a kind of light out of her. Sometimes I liked to think I did that for her, too.