by Tia Siren
“Yes! I’m not letting you get away from me that easily. We’re older now. Our friendship is based more on who we are and not on what boring class we were stuck in together. Mia, I want you to be my friend forever,” I said.
That made her smile. She was getting a little melancholy. I was, too. “Give me your glass. I’ll make the next round,” I said, grabbing her glass and heading for the tiny kitchen in her tiny apartment.
I had to put some space between us. Honestly, I was dying to wrap my arms around her and promise her things I knew I could never follow through with. I wanted to kiss her, just one taste. What could it hurt?
We finished our second glass, and I could feel the buzz from the strong drinks. “You’re drunk,” I told her, laughing at her flushed cheeks.
“I am not.”
“I should go. I need to get home and finish packing.”
“Don’t go. Not yet. You can sleep on the plane. Stay a little longer.”
I nodded my head, agreeing to stay. “Okay.”
She leaned back against the ugly-ass orange sofa I’d always hated. She had picked it up at a thrift store, insisting it was perfect for her apartment. I had not been convinced, but once it was inside, I realized she had been right. It really was perfect. She had an eclectic style that was unique to her. No other person in their right mind—and living in this decade—would have ever thought the sofa was a good idea. That was Mia, quirky and sporting a style all her own. It was one of the many reasons I loved her like crazy.
“Brad?”
“What?”
“How come we never dated or hooked up?”
I nearly choked to death on my drink. “What?”
“You and me. Why did you never ask me out?”
I took a deep breath. “I didn’t think that was what you wanted. You know I think you’re beautiful. No, strike that. You’re hot, way too hot for a guy like me.”
She laughed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s true. I could never have gotten through these past six years without you. You’re my best friend in the whole world, my partner in crime, my go-to when I want to try a new restaurant or do something crazy. I didn’t want to complicate things and risk ruining that friendship.”
“You’re assuming we wouldn’t have stayed together.”
“We’re both young. Neither of us wanted to settle down. You’re twenty-four and have admitted more than once that you don’t want to settle into a relationship. You’ll find the right guy for you.”
“Uh, you’re twenty-four, too,” she said.
I laughed. “I know. Like I said, we’re both young and neither one of us is looking for that whole long-term relationship thing. We would have had a good time, but then when we got bored with the sex and the mushy stuff, we would have broken up.”
“You wouldn’t have gotten bored with the sex—trust me,” she said in a husky voice.
I laughed to hide what I was really thinking. There was no way I would have ever let her go. I loved her. I was in love with her and had been for years. I should have told her. I’d missed my chance. What if she was the one for me and I’d fucking blown it because I was a coward?
“You’re right, but you would’ve gotten tired of me. You know it. We are too good of friends to risk throwing it all away for some hot sex.”
She released a long sigh. “I suppose. I guess we’ll never know.”
We both went quiet. With the talk about sex, it was all I could think of. I had undressed her in my mind at least a hundred times, but now she’d all but given me permission to fuck her in my dreams as well. I knew it would be good. Not good, fucking amazing. I thought about her tight little body pressed against mine as I drove into her. I imagined the sound of her heavy breathing and the little moans that would escape her lips.
Opening my eyes, I shook my head. I couldn’t think like that. Not now at least. When I was home in the privacy of my own bedroom, I could fantasize about her, but not here right in front of her.
“I really should get going,” I croaked out, my voice hoarse given my current state of arousal.
Mia leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “Fine. Leave me all alone,” she said, pouting.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I was convinced it was the right thing.
Chapter Two
Mia
I was buzzed. Okay, maybe a little more than buzzed, but I knew what I was doing. Brad thought I was hot. That made me giddy. I’d played it cool, or at least I thought I did. My brain was a little muddled from the vodka. I considered myself to be skilled in the flirting department. Unfortunately, I had never flirted with Brad, and it felt awkward.
“I think you’re really hot, too,” I blurted out. “I’ve only been a little jealous of all the women falling at your feet.”
“Now I know you’re drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk. You know you’re sexy. Girls are always willing to drop their panties for you. Why would I be any different?”
“Stop it.”
I giggled. “You know it’s true. Don’t be shy,” I cooed. “I’m a typical hetero girl who isn’t blind. I can see how good looking you are. I’ve just been polite and never actually told you. I didn’t want to inflate your ego any more than it is.”
“Hey! I don’t have a big ego.”
I laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re not exactly hurting in the self-confidence department.”
“Neither are you,” he grumbled. “You know you’re a hot little thing, parading around in your sexy little outfits when we go out together and pretending you don’t understand why so many guys want your number.”
I giggled. “You never made a move.”
“You’re my best friend, Mia. Me making a move would have taken us right out of the friend zone and into a place neither one of us was ready for or wanted.”
“Hey, don’t speak for me. How do you know what I wanted?”
“Whatever. You’re drunk,” he mumbled into his glass, taking the last drink.
“Not really, but I agree. Us sleeping together would have been weird. I mean, I’ve seen you almost naked, but seeing you all the way naked could make things a little awkward between us. I don’t know if I could handle seeing your O face,” I teased.
He nearly spit his drink across the room as my words hit home. “My O face?”
“Yeah, you know, that moment you climax. Everyone has a different O face. If I saw yours, I don’t know if I could ever look at you the same way. I would always think back to the moment,” I said, teasing him but actually meaning the words.
He shook his head. “You think of the dumbest shit.”
“It’s a valid concern,” I protested. “Have you never had sex with a woman and then, say if you see her on the street, the first thing that pops into your mind is that look on her face when you brought her to her climax?”
He smiled. “Which time?”
I burst into laughter. “You’re such a guy. You do know women fake it, right?”
He shook his head. “Not with me they don’t. They don’t have to. I make a woman come over and over.”
His voice took on a deep, husky tone that felt as if he were pouring warm honey over me. It was his seduction voice. I had heard it before when we double dated, or when we went out to a club and he wanted to take a woman home.
“Brad!” I shrieked. “Don’t you use that tone on me.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You’re the one who started talking about orgasms. It was a natural response.”
I shook my head. “You’re a smooth operator. It’s amazing I’ve been able to stay your friend this long without falling under your charms.”
“Only because I haven’t ever tried. If I tried, you would never be able to resist my charms, or anything else.”
I made a sound that was meant to be a scoff but came out sounding as if I were choking.
“You okay?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
“Yes. Ju
st trying to digest your words. I think you underestimate my ability to shoot you down.”
He laughed. “You think?”
“I think it would so be the other way around. You’d be all mooning around after me. That could get old. So, I agree, our relationship was better left as friends. I can’t have another man begging to take me to bed,” I said with a wink.
“Now who has the big ego?” he joked.
“Only calling it like it is. I guess we’ll never know now since you are moving across the country.”
“If things had been different, you know I would have made a move,” he whispered.
“I know.”
We went back to sitting in silence. I hated regrets. I regretted not sleeping with him, but that was only one part of me. The more practical side knew I would have ended up regretting having sex with my best friend and tainting our friendship. It sucked either way. I smirked. At least one way would have led to a great deal of pleasure. Brad had a killer body and worked out every day to keep it that way. He was hard and muscular, and that naturally curly blond hair of his always made me want to run my fingers through it. As his friend, I got away with doing that. As his former lover, I couldn’t. It would violate some secret code.
He reached out and put a hand on my thigh. “I promise I will stay in touch. You better do the same. No matter how busy you are or how jealous your boyfriend gets, shoot me a text or an email from time to time,” he said.
I let out a long sigh. I felt like a chapter of my life was ending, just like with high school and then college. Another door was closing, and I really didn’t want Brad on the wrong side of that door. I felt as if I were losing him. I knew I was.
“I will,” I mumbled. “I hate this. I hate that you are walking right out of my life. You and I both know we’ll drift apart,” I said, not able to hide the sadness in my voice.
“I hate it, too. So, we can’t let ourselves drift apart. We have to put in the effort to stay in touch.”
I smiled, knowing life would get busy for both of us. “I’m sure we’ll try, but you’re going to be busy, I’m going to be busy, and, you know…” I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t have to say the words. We both knew what I was saying.
“I tell you what. Let’s make a pact right now. If you and I are both single at the age of thirty-five, we’ll get married and have twenty kids together.” His face lit up with that familiar, loveable, cheesy smile.
I burst into laughter. “No way is this body popping out twenty kids. Will you settle for one?”
He shrugged. “We’ll start with one and see how it goes.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I know you’re joking, but thank you. I’m just feeling sorry for myself because you’re moving away and embarking on a whole new life without me. I’ll be fine.”
He turned to me and got serious. “I am absolutely not joking. I’m serious. If we are both still single and unattached at thirty-five, let’s do it. We know we get along. Even if sex between us is horrible, we can still have that companionship we’re looking for. Neither of us will ever have to worry about growing old alone.”
“Unless one of us is married and the other isn’t when we turn thirty-five,” I pointed out. “And by the way, sex would not be horrible,” I mumbled.
“I’m just saying, if we don’t like each other in a sexual way, we could work out a special arrangement. You could have your side guys and I could have a girl on the side. We would be discreet. Our kids would be loved, and we’d love each other enough to have a happy family,” he said with sincerity.
I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious? I think you must be smashed.”
He nodded. “I am. Absolutely. I want to do this. I want to make sure you will marry my ass if we are both lonely, sad sops and in our mid-thirties.”
“Really?” I asked, still not believing it.
“Mia, I’m dead serious. Now, come on, let’s get you to bed. I need to get going.”
He stood up and reached down a hand to help me off the couch. Like so many times before, he led me to my bedroom and pulled down the blankets on my bed. I flopped down on the mattress, flat on my back, and waited. He began the familiar process of untying my tennis shoes. I looked down at him and smiled. He always took such good care of me.
“Scoot,” he ordered once my shoes were off.
I slid up the bed, resting my head on the pillow. He grabbed the blankets and pulled them up to my chin before sitting down on the bed beside me.
“I’m going to miss you,” he whispered.
I fought back the tears that threatened to fall, but I was not going to turn into a girly girl. No way. “I’ll miss you, too. You have to promise to visit.”
“I will.” He leaned over to kiss me on the forehead like he had done a million times before.
I turned my face up, staring into his eyes, demanding a different kind of kiss. I knew I was playing with fire, but I didn’t care. He hesitated, his mouth inches from mine. I could see him warring with himself. I reached up and put my palm on his cheek, encouraging him to make the move.
When his lips touched mine, I felt as if I would melt into the pillows. It was a feather-light kiss. I kissed back, waiting to see if he would take it a step further. More pressure and then it was a full on make-out session. His hands were in my hair, pulling out the bun I had piled on my head. My hands moved to his neck and then slowly rubbed down his back.
The kiss changed almost instantly. It went from playful and sweet to fiery hot. My heart raced at the thought of what could happen if I didn’t stop things. I didn’t want to stop it though. I had encouraged it and wasn’t about to back out.
“This is what you’ve wanted,” he breathed over my mouth, his hands moving to my neck. “I’ve wanted it too.”
“Brad.” I was going to say we should slow down, but instead his name came out in a give-me-more way.
“I know you want it. I’ve waited too long, Mia. I’m here now.”
I put my finger over his lips before he could kiss me again. “Promise me one thing?”
He grinned. “Yes, it’ll be good.”
I smiled. “Don’t get weird after this. Don’t walk out and never call or text me again. You have to promise we’ll still be friends.”
He nodded his head. “I promise.”
“Then kiss away,” I said, moving my finger from his mouth.
He kissed me gently on the nose and then things started to heat up. I closed my eyes, wondering if and secretly hoping this was the start of something new for us. My heart felt full. My best friend in the world was kissing me. I threw caution to the wind and let myself go. He was an excellent kisser. It was easy to forget about all the reasons we shouldn’t cross the line.
Chapter Three
Brad
My phone vibrated on my desk. I picked it up, looked at the screen, and groaned. When had birthdays become something I dreaded? It was only a little sad I had to set a reminder in my phone to tell me when my birthday was. It wasn’t like I had a special someone or family around to tell me. It was me and me alone. Jaxon, my one good friend in Los Angeles, had remembered tomorrow was my birthday and wanted to take me out for a drink.
Not exactly the birthday celebration I had hoped for. Somewhere, life had passed me by. I couldn’t name the specific day I had realized that fact, but it was hitting hard today. I was officially heading toward the other side of thirty. I was middle-aged. Holy shit, when did I get old?
“Bout done?” my coworker, Tina, popped her head in the door of my office.
“Yep. Just getting some notes down for the show tomorrow.”
“Hot stuff?”
I winked. “Would I ever have anything less?”
“See you tomorrow.” She waved and left the doorway.
Tina was a married mother of three. She was a couple years younger than me, but so much farther along the road of life. I envied her in many ways. Every night she got off work and went home to a loving husband and her cute
kids. Her life was full.
I wasn’t scraping by or completely alone in the world, but I didn’t have that feeling of being complete. I was successful at my job. Having a nationally syndicated show on the radio was no joke. I knew that and didn’t take it for granted at all, but I wanted more.
I finished my notes for tomorrow, saved the document, and shut down the laptop. It was time go home, alone. As usual.
Once home, it was the same old routine. I opened the fridge and pulled out one of the meals that had been made fresh at the beginning of the week. Tonight’s dinner was a vegetable lasagna. I kept my intake of red meat to a minimum, preferring fish or chicken.
“Smells great,” I mumbled as I pulled it out of the microwave.
I sat down in my chair in front of a TV that was ridiculously big and ate my meal that had been prepared for me by my private chef. I looked around my apartment, took in the monochrome furnishings, and had a sudden realization. I hated it. Black, white, and gray did not say welcome home, kick off your shoes, and chill. It said you are a successful, single person. Period.
After eating my dinner, I showered and headed for bed. I was driving myself into a serious funk. I blamed it on the birthday tomorrow. I was apparently having a midlife crisis.
The following morning, I wasn’t feeling any better. I dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans, feeling a little Johnny Cash. I was mourning the loss of my youth. I headed for my office, hoping no one would stop me. I didn’t feel like hearing birthday wishes or having people ask me about my plans. I didn’t have plans. Well, technically, yes, I did. Jaxon and I were going to get a couple beers. Big fucking deal.
“Hey!” Tina said, grabbing my hand and dragging me down the hall into the employee breakroom.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She smiled. “I think you know.”
She pushed open the door. As expected, the breakroom was decorated with balloons and streamers for my birthday. At the center of a table was a big cake.
