by Amy Brent
I stayed on my knees between her legs, watching as she licked her finger and lowered her hand to her pussy. She touched herself delicately and pulled away. Strands of our cum came away on her fingertips. She smiled at me, pleased with how full she was. Then, she slid a finger inside herself.
She played with herself for a few minutes longer, letting me watch her. My hands were on the inside of her thighs, tracing small patterns while I watched her run her fingers up and down the sides of her slit.
She stopped when we pulled on to her street. She eased her panties off and over her ankles and tucked them into the small purse she had with her.
“What did you take those off for?” I asked as she inched her way down the seat toward to door.
“I don’t want to ruin them,” she said simply. “I just bought them. I’ll clean up when I get inside.”
I thought of her lying on her bed playing with herself for a while longer before she went to sleep. The image made me hard again.
How one girl could make me feel so many things, I had no idea. I could have easily bent her over and fucked her again. I could have filled her up a second time. She would have taken it and loved every second of it, I was sure.
But that nagging feeling of betrayal was sinking back in. It brought confusion along with it, leaving me feeling hollow and lost.
Allie leaned over and gave me a kiss when the driver opened the door. “I’ll talk to you soon?” she asked.
“Yeah, for sure. Thanks for coming tonight. You know, to the party.”
“Thanks for making me come,” she smiled. “Not to the party. You know what I mean.”
Then she was gone. I watched her make her way up the steps to the front door of her building through the tinted windows. The limo driver didn’t pull away until she was inside. As we drove down her street, I mulled over the evening.
Allie and Andrew had been fine together. I had seen it with my own eyes. I didn’t have to worry about them.
But why did I still have this anger inside of me? I felt unhinged, somehow, like I was losing myself in all of this. Fucking Allie always made me feel better, but it was a short-lived relief. Whenever I was alone again, all the bitterness and resentment would wash over me. Each time, it felt like I was reliving the moment of reading that diary entry about her fucking Andrew.
And every time I came inside her, all I could think about was my brother doing the same thing. And then them thinking she was pregnant. And then doctor’s appointments and Allie crying in waiting rooms and bathrooms and her bedroom. Each thought was darker than the last, and each held one blatant truth: I hadn’t been there.
She had never let me in. I had been held at arm’s length and kept in the dark through the scariest time in Allie’s life. Even when she made it through, she never told me.
That wasn’t how best friends treat each other. It wasn’t how people who loved each other were supposed to act. Secrets. Lies. Those things held no place in the space between Allie and me.
But it was all I could feel. The betrayal and the dishonesty felt so heavy in my chest that I thought it might ruin me. The last three months had been brutal. That same hollow feeling had reared its ugly head again, and this time I had Allie. I was where I thought I was supposed to be. No matter what I did, or how many times I was with Allie, I couldn’t shake it.
I was starting to think that maybe I never would.
Chapter 24
Allie
“So you haven’t spoken to him since the night of the party?” Melissa asked over her cup of coffee.
I wrapped my hands around my own mug of cinnamon-spiked java. “No. I waited all day yesterday hoping he would call, but he never did. I’m so confused, Melissa. I thought we had put everything behind us once and for all.”
“You’re sure everything was fine with Andrew? Nothing happened that Steven could have misinterpreted or read too far into?”
“No, everything was fine. Andrew and I were the same as we always are. We talked. We joked. There wasn’t any flirting. When Steven and I got in the limo, I was certain that everything was fine.” I paused and sipped my coffee.
The café we were in was a quieter environment than our usual lunch spots, and I didn’t want to blurt out that Steven had literally ravaged me in the back of the limo. So I leaned in close and whispered it to Melissa. I told her the whole thing. I told her how hard Steven had fucked me, and how hungry he had seemed for it. “I just don’t get it. I thought it was a release, you know? I thought it was a moment of clarity for him, and he was finally free from the whole thing.”
Melissa sighed. “Whoever said men are straightforward with love and relationships is a liar. I can’t make sense of this man of yours either. Maybe he needs more time? The party was probably a big deal for him. Sure, he fucked you, but he’s a dude. Maybe his mind caught up with him after the fact, and he’s digesting it all now?”
“Maybe,” I said, not sure I liked that possibility. “I don’t know how much more time he needs to mull things over. I don’t know how long I can wait for him. I don’t love Andrew. I never did. I love Steven, and I always have. I don’t know what else I can do to prove it to him—or if I should bother. At a certain point, he will have to forgive me and truly put it behind him, or we’re never going to be able to be together.”
“I hate to ask this,” Melissa said slowly. “But what if he can’t? What if he chooses not to forgive you?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I really don’t. But what’s the alternative? I wait forever?”
“No. You shouldn’t have to do that. This is his issue now. You can come clean.”
I groaned and leaned back in my chair. “I want things to be how they used to be, you know? I want to be able to sit with my best friend and not worry about what’s going on his head. I want to enjoy him the way I used to.”
“With the added perks of great sex, of course,” Melissa said with a smile.
“Well, naturally.” I laughed.
“Then there’s only one thing you can do from here,” Melissa said. “You need to sit him down and talk to him again. This time you guys need to lay it all out there. Say everything that needs to be said, no matter how hard it is. Maybe you’ll have to hear some things you don’t want to hear. But he’s worth it, right?”
“Right.”
“Good. Call him. Invite him over. Sit down and hash this thing out. At the very least, you’ll have clarity, and you’ll know what steps to take next. Maybe those steps are the next ones for your relationship. Maybe not. Maybe it’ll be you deciding what you need to do for you. Either way, the conversation needs to happen. And it needs to happen sooner rather than later.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Of course, you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered, fighting back a wave of emotion. “The more I think about the night, the more I think that maybe I was wrong. He did seem a little standoffish. I mean, he’s Steven. He’s always like that at stuffy family parties. But last night he was a little cool, even when I got out of the limo. I can’t figure him out.”
“Which is why you need to talk to him. Don’t stress trying to make sense of it all now. Talk to him. Clear the air. Make sense of it together. Otherwise, you’re just working yourself up for no reason,” Melissa reached out and rested her hand on top of mine. “You’ve got this, baby sister. I believe in you. If the worst happens, call me. You know I’ll be there with chocolates and chick flicks. You just need to say the word.”
“Thanks, Melissa,” I said with a forced smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Later, after work, I found myself sitting on my bed staring down at my phone. I had Steven’s number dialed and was trying to work up the courage to press call. I was afraid of the answer I would get when I called him. Would he blow me off again, or would he agree to come over? Would he be hesitant, or would he be as eager to me to get it all out in the open again together?
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br /> My thumb hovered over the green dial button. I swallowed and bit my bottom lip.
This was Steven. Why was I so worked up about this? I knew him better than anyone else. He wasn’t a cruel person. He wouldn’t want to hurt me. Even if things didn’t go the way I wanted, I knew I shouldn’t be scared to reach out to him.
I pressed the button and lifted the phone to my ear. I waited, my stomach churning, as the phone continued to ring and ring. It went unanswered, and Steven’s voice filled the microphone. His voicemail beeped at me.
I hung up and stared at my phone in my lap.
I ran over the possibilities of what Steven could be doing. Chances were he was doing something similar to what I was doing: nothing. Had he seen my name flash across the screen and chosen not to answer?
I thought back to the cocktail party. Maybe I had done something that bothered him, and I hadn’t even realized. Had I unintentionally said something too flirty to Andrew? Had I made Steven see something that wasn’t there?
He wouldn’t ignore me for no reason. I was sure of that.
I felt the tears coming. I tried to hold them at bay. I was desperate to keep it together. Once I started, I wouldn’t be able to get myself under control. I would spend the whole night sobbing like I had when Steven first cut me out of his life. I would wake up with a headache, which would remind me of how broken I was, and then I would cry again.
I couldn’t keep the emotions at bay. It washed over me, starting with the lump in my throat which gave way to the first sob. I buried my face in my hands and let it happen.
I lifted my covers and sank beneath them, pulling them up to my chin and rolling on to my side. I curled up in the fetal position, my body still shaking with sobs, and thought of how nice it had been lying with Steven in his bed the other night.
The warmth of his body pressed up against mine had been such a comfort. It had been the best feeling in the world. There was nothing that could top it. Nothing that could compete with the sense of safety I had when I was lying pressed up against him.
Now I felt weak and vulnerable. I felt unloved and unwanted.
I never should have called him. I should have waited.
He probably needed more time. Seeing my name on his missed calls wasn’t going to make matters any better. He was processing, digesting, and trying to sort out the mess I had put him in. It wasn’t like I had slept with some random guy when I was sixteen and not told him about it. I had slept with his brother.
Andrew was the one man Steven had ever been intimidated by. He grew up in his older brother’s shadow. His parents had praised Andrew all his life, and Steven had been somewhat of the black sheep in his family. I had never believed him when he told me that. Steven had always been perfect in my eyes.
But his family strove for perfection; hence the fancy cocktail party. They loved both their sons equally, but they placed Andrew on a pedestal. He had been the one Steven was always compared to. I knew this was hard for Steven as a teenager.
That was probably why this was so hard for him to swallow. I had fucked the one guy Steven had always tried to beat. And, for a whole two weeks, I had thought I was going to have Andrew’s baby. Andrew had risen to the occasion, in typical Andrew style; holding my hand, comforting me, assuring me everything would be okay, giving me rides to my appointments at the clinic. I knew all of this played a factor in how Steven felt.
The way I had made him feel.
A secret like mine kept for ten years was damaging. I had hurt Steven more than anyone ever had. That much was obvious now.
I cried harder. I cried for what I had done to my best friend. I cried for what I had lost.
My heart felt like it had broken into a million pieces, and I didn’t know if I would ever be able to pick them all back up. Not after this.
Not after Steven.
Chapter 25
Steven
“I understand your concerns, Mr. Edmund, and I am taking all of your feedback into account. If you can give me another forty-eight hours, I can assure you the problem will be under control,” I said into the phone.
Mr. Edmund, one of my high-end investors, sighed on the other end. “Make it right, Mr. Marx, or I’m pulling my funding. I can’t risk these hackers getting a hold of my personal information or that of my clients. I am not in the business of taking risks.”
“Neither am I,” I said firmly. “Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Mr. Edmund barked out a bitter laugh. “My boy, you asked me to trust you when you first asked me to open my wallet, and now look where we are. Four months into the project and you have a first-rate hacker on your hands. You’re lucky you caught the breach before he managed to get to anything important. Forty-eight hours, Mr. Marx. I will give you forty-eight hours. If the problem isn’t resolved, I expect my money wire transferred back to my account immediately. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes closed. This was the third conversation since last night that had ended with the threat of pulling out of my app project. I ended the call and slumped forward on my desk.
The security breach had been intense. I was still working to find out where the hacker had got in—or if it was even a hacker in the first place. I suspected malware or a bot, but explaining that to some of the investors was like trying to explain the difference between data and WiFi to a ninety-six-year-old. Some things just didn’t compute.
I kept my cool during the calls, trusting that my team would resolve the issue before we lost any more funding. So far, only one client had pulled out. One out of fifteen wasn’t all that bad—so long as it stayed at that number.
My phone rang. I groaned, preparing to be yelled at by yet another client, and answered the call. I was surprised to hear Andrew’s voice.
“Hey, man,” my brother said cheerfully. “How’s it going? You still up for drinks later this week? I was thinking Thursday. How does that sound?”
“Hey, Andrew,” I said. “Maybe. I can’t commit to anything right now. Some shit went down at work, and I’m so screwed. Can I call you on Thursday afternoon and let you know?”
“Yeah, sure thing. Is everything alright?”
“It will be. Hopefully. I need to figure it all out fast.”
“Alright. Well, good luck buddy. Hey, while I have you on the phone, have you and Allie patched things up? Things looked like they were on the up and up for you two at the cocktail party.”
“Things are complicated right now,” I said.
“Complicated for a reason, or complicated because you’re making them that way?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, my words coming out a little harsher than I intended.
“It means, are you making this a bigger deal than it needs to be? Have you forgiven her yet?”
“It’s not that simple,” I said. “I’m working on it.”
Andrew laughed on the other end. “Working on it? Bro, if you don’t get your shit together, you’re going to lose her for good.”
“To who? You?” I challenged.
“Steven, get your head out of your ass and get a grip. It was ten years ago.”
“Yeah, and all I can seem to think about is the two of you lying to my face for a whole decade. It’s fucked up, Andrew, and I’m not cool with it, alright?”
“Stop being such a baby. So what? She didn’t tell you. Things were harder on her side then than they are on yours now. She was sixteen and thought she was going to have a kid. She was scared as hell. Of course, she wanted to bury it when she made it through. What person wouldn’t want to? And now you’re all bent out of shape about it because you think she owed you total transparency? Look, someone’s gotta get real with you Steven. You’re being an asshole.”
“Yeah, well, I take after my older brother I guess.”
Andrew sighed into the phone. “I’m on your side, believe it or not. I want you to be happy. That girl makes you happy. Don’t screw it up.”
; She did make me happy. She always had.
During the three months that I hadn’t spoken to Allie, I had gone to bed furious with myself more nights than not. I thought that I’d blown all of my chances with her for good. Then, when I saw her in that diner, and she looked up at me and smiled, a little sliver of hope emerged inside me. There was a chance that I could patch things up and make them right. There was a chance I could get her back in my life.
Was I really going to throw that all away again?
“I don’t know how to move past it Andrew,” I confessed, slumping backward in my chair. It creaked and groaned beneath me. I’d been sitting on it for nine straight hours dealing with clients. My bones felt as tired as its plastic pieces. “Every time I look at her all I can think about is what happened between the two of you. I don’t want to. I want to forget it—to move on. But I can’t seem to get a grip.”
Andrew sighed on the other end. I could picture him sitting at his own desk in his home office. He was probably fidgeting with something on hand like he usually did, a stapler or paperweight. “Listen, Steven. I get it, okay? If I could take any of it back, I would. I never wanted to be the reason you and Allie couldn’t make things work. If I could do anything to change things, I would. Do you believe me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
