Standstill

by Nicole Dykes

  His eyes meet mine, and I see the sincerity in them. “I was.”

  Holy shit. “I had no idea.” During our freshman year of high school, right before he and Paige started dating, Garrett and I were hanging out after school while Paige had dance practice. And he asked me out.

  At first, I thought he was fucking with me like he always did. He played it cool but said something along the lines of, it could be fun to go out on a date, a movie or something. Somewhere we could walk from his house since we couldn’t even drive yet.

  But because I loved my best friend more than anything, even more than the juvenile crush I’d had on Garrett for as long as I could remember, I turned him down. I knew Paige and I both had a crush on the same boy.

  And two weeks later, he was dating Paige.

  He shrugs his large shoulders. “Oh well. I guess it all worked out the way it was supposed to, right?”

  I nod my head stupidly, my heart racing in my chest. “Yeah. I mean, you loved the hell out of Paige. You guys were the all-time best couple, only rivaled by Reed and Erin.”

  It feels good to talk openly about the past. I never saw that coming. I was certain it would only hurt like hell.

  “Bullshit, they had nothing on us.” He laughs. “This asshole picking you up or making you meet him?”

  I look at the clock. “Should be here any minute.”

  He makes a couple of tacos, puts them on a plate and heads toward the patio. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks, Garrett.”

  He exits, and not too much longer the doorbell rings. I open it, expecting well, anything but what’s on the other side. I stare at a tall, beautiful man, unlike the small, slightly nerdy barista boy I had pictured.

  Holy shit. The guy’s muscular, but not comically so. He has bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He’s sporting a dark gray t-shirt with black letters that say “I can, but I won’t.” I laugh instantly when I read it.

  His hair is cut short, and his biceps bulge as he stands with his hands in his pockets. “Hey. Ashlyn?”

  I nod my head in an answer. “Yeah, and you’re Archer?”

  He nods, pulling his hands from his pockets. “Yeah. You ready to go?”

  His smile is kind, and I may be experiencing a flutter in my chest as he leads me out to his car.

  Here’s to something new.

  “So, I was totally right, right?”

  I laugh as Erin pops a piece of grilled chicken in her mouth and gloats as we sit at the patio table. Reed and Garrett are inside preparing veggies to grill. “Yes. You were right. Archer is great.”

  And he really is. We ate carnival food and rode the rides. When he dropped me off, he asked if he could take me out again. I told him yes.

  He’s almost completed his degree and wants to make movies someday. We share the same passions and not just t-shirts with funny sayings. He’s unbelievably handsome and funny.

  Garrett and Reed walk out the sliding glass door to the grill. My eyes follow every movement Garrett makes. Archer and I totally clicked. And yet . . . something is holding me back.

  “So, are you going out again?”

  I force my eyes off Garrett and refocus on Erin. “Yeah. Saturday, I think.”

  “That’s great.”

  I nod my head, smiling, but still totally unsure. Garrett’s confession about me “crushing” him when I turned him down in high school has been haunting me all week. Knowing Garrett, he was just messing with me. But what if he wasn’t?

  Did he truly want to date me first? And when I turned him down, was he that devastated?

  I try to shake it from my mind and look over at Erin, who is still munching on the chicken. “So, have you been to the doctor yet?”

  “I go next week, but I feel like I haven’t eaten for weeks. I swear everything makes me sick.” She licks her fingers. “But this is delicious.”

  I smile and take a bite of the marinated chicken. “It really is. Garrett is getting good with his cooking skills.”

  “That’s so fucking weird.”

  I laugh in total agreement but enjoying the hell out of the chicken. The boys join us.

  “So, how’s the barista/student/soldier?” Reed asks me and looks suspiciously at Garrett.

  He laughs and places a piece of chicken on his plate. “That’s exactly how I refer to him.”

  Reed laughs, and Erin and I simultaneously correct the idiots. “Archer.”

  “That boy is fine as hell.” Erin informs Reed, and I catch a slightly disgruntled look from Garrett.

  “I’m sure he’s adorable,” Garrett adds sarcastically.

  We’ve been on good terms, but his sarcasm irritates me as I add some salad to my plate. “Well, if you like muscles, tattoos, beautiful eyes, and a great personality, he’s great.”

  “Damn.” Reed slaps the back of Garrett’s shoulder. “Three out of four ain’t bad, buddy.”

  Garrett knows instantly that Reed is taking a shot at his personality. “Fuck you. My personality sparkles, fucker.” They laugh together, and Erin and I roll our eyes at their ridiculous bromance.

  Since the truth came out about me and Garrett sleeping together, we’ve been making more of an effort to get together more.

  It’s been really nice being a group again.

  Almost whole.

  I fucking love Saturdays, so my cell phone is off. I’m not dealing with any bullshit from the office today.

  Fuck. That.

  I wonder what Ash is up to today.

  I walk out of my room and find her in the kitchen. She’s wearing an apron, mixing up batter in a metal bowl, has flour on her cheek, and her hair is up in a messy bun.

  “What are you making?”

  She smiles over at me. “Waffles?”

  I laugh at the question mark at the end of her answer. “Not going well?”

  She looks at her phone, which I assume has the recipe on it. “It’s fine, I think. You’re not the only one who can figure this domestic shit out.”

  I laugh and walk behind her, looking at the recipe over her shoulder and staring at the lumpy batter. “I think it just needs to be mixed a little more, and you should be good.”

  I wrap my hand over hers, holding the spoon and helping her mix, thinking she’ll just let me take over, but she doesn’t. Instead, we’re stuck in a strangely erotic stir-off as we mix the batter together, my body pressed against hers.

  “You smell good.” I can’t stop the hungry whisper coming from my mouth against her ear as I breathe her in. Her hand freezes, and she turns her body to face me.

  “I haven’t showered. I probably should.”

  I use the pad of my thumb to wipe away the flour on her cheek. “Says who?”

  She licks her lips, and I’m mesmerized by that simple action. “I have a date later. Well, in a few hours.”

  I release my grip on the spoon and drop my hand, spraying the waffle iron with nonstick spray. “With the barista?”

  “Archer.”

  I don’t acknowledge his name. It makes it too real. “Where are you guys going?”

  She scoops some of the batter into the waffle iron and closes it, flipping it over. “There’s a film festival downtown.”

  I hate that this guy actually shares her hobbies. Fucking film student. What the hell are the chances of that shit?

  “Sounds fun.” I try like hell not to growl and to sound sincere.

  “Yeah, I think so. What about you? Any fun Saturday night plans?”

  I take as seat at the counter. “Nah. No plans.”

  “Not even to trick some dumb girl into your bed to be mildly pleasured?” She’s smiling and enjoying giving me shit.

  “Oh, Ash.” I stand and walk closer to her, dangerously close. Our chests nearly touch, and her head tips up to look at me. “Nothing about the pleasure I give is mild. And I’ve never once had to trick a woman into bed. They beg.”

  “Cocky shithead.”

  I watch her throat as she swallows, trying to act unaf
fected and failing. My words leave her parched, and I smile to myself. “That’s why you keep me around, right?”

  She gives herself some space and lifts a perfect, golden waffle out, placing it on a plate before starting another. Her gray tank with “Kiss me Deadly” and a skeleton on it dips way too low on the sides. And I mean way too fucking low because I can see she’s not wearing a bra, and there’s way too much side boob for me to be able to fucking function.

  She sighs as I stand there, trying to think about anything other than Ashlyn’s spectacular rack.

  “Look, being the new version of myself who doesn’t avoid shit as much, I have to ask.” She has my attention as she tries to keep busy by putting dishes into the sink and running the water. “Were you fucking with me when you said I crushed you?” She points the wooden spoon in my direction, soap and batter dripping from it, but running down her hand and not to the floor. “And don’t lie to me.”

  “Of course it did. Do you know how long it took me to grow balls big enough to ask you out?” I’d been infatuated with her since I could remember. Paige, I saw as friend, a really good, pretty friend who I cared about and then eventually fell in love with. But before all that, Ashlyn was up on a pedestal far above anyone else since the day I met her.

  She had my attention since gym class in grade school when she nailed me right in the fucking head playing dodge ball and got pissed at the gym teacher for refusing to call it an out because above the neck was off-limits.

  She never took my shit.

  And man, my adolescent heart was smashed to pieces when I asked her out and she thought it was a joke. I’d never been more serious in my life.

  She drops the spoon in the sink and turns to face me. “You seemed fine.”

  I shrug. I always seem fine. “Look, I get it. You were more into jocks or some shit back then. It’s fine.”

  She shakes her head, her lip trembling, drawing me closer to her, needing to know what’s wrong. “No, I wasn’t.”

  My right hand sweeps into her loose bun, and my fingers glide through her brown locks easily. “What do you mean?”

  She bites her bottom lip, her eyes locking on mine, sending a chill through my body. “I wanted to say yes to you.”

  My right brow raises. “What? Why didn’t you?”

  She swallows, her answer is choked through tears. “Paige.”

  My brain can’t comprehend what she’s telling me. “Paige? She wasn’t there. We weren’t dating yet. How did she keep you from going out on a date with me?”

  Ashlyn is frozen. She doesn’t move or speak, a decade of bullshit weighing her down. And I have to know.

  “Ash, tell me.”

  She licks her lips, and her voice is strained as her eyes meet mine. “I had a thing for you, but . . .” My heart is pounding relentlessly in my chest as I cling to each word. She looks away from me, focusing on some distant object behind me. “Paige, she did too. She was so painfully shy, but she told me about her crush on you. I never told her about mine and played it off, giving her a hard time and calling you a prick.” Her eyes meet mine. “Which you are.”

  “You had a thing for me back then?” It’s all I can focus on as I struggle to breathe.

  “Yes. But. So. Did. Paige.”

  Tears take residence in her beautiful eyes but don’t fall as my other hand cups the left side of her face, making her look at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I couldn’t do that. Girl code. Best friend code. You don’t do that. And it worked out. You and I would have been fucking terrible together.”

  I watch her full lips, so fucking angry and turned-on I’m afraid of spontaneous combustion in this moment. Everything coming together all at once. “Says who?”

  “Garrett, we're too alike. We would have fought all the time. Hell, we did. Paige, she was patient and organized. Perfect for your stubborn, lazy ass.”

  “You told me no because Paige liked me? You were being loyal.”

  She sighs. “I loved her too. I wanted her to be happy.”

  “But you wanted me?”

  Her head lifts, her lips pouty and calling me. “I was young and dumb.”

  Fuck this.

  My hands thread through her soft hair as my lips crash against hers, needing her more than I’ve ever let myself need anything. Starving for her. Craving her. Her hands grasp my hips, pulling my body into hers as her mouth attacks mine, neither of us coming up for air as if we need each other more than fucking oxygen.

  My hands grab her tight ass, lifting her easily and setting her on the countertop. Her hands cling to the back of my neck as our tongues dance.

  Her legs part as I rest easily between them, my hands smoothing over her bare thighs, relishing being enclosed by them. “Garrett,” she pants, her hands pushing against my chest.

  “Don’t think.” I repeat her words, and I see the fear dissipate and turn to lust as her lips find mine again.

  I tear my shirt off furiously over my head, trying not to rush but dying to be inside her again. Telling my brain to fuck off and doing what I’ve wanted to do again for three years.

  Her fingers slide over my ab muscles, causing them to quiver at her touch. “Fuck, Ash. You better be ready for me.”

  “I’m ready.” Her legs wrap around my ass, pushing my hardened cock against her and causing us both to groan with anticipation.

  She turns to the waffle maker that has started to smoke, the previously pleasant smell turning to one of something burning. She yanks the plug and then bites her bottom lip, swollen from my rough kiss. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else.”

  “What, you don’t like the smell of burnt waffles when you’re fucking?”

  She laughs, leaning forward to nibble on my ear. “I think I’ll like pretty much anything while you’re fucking me.”

  She's so fucking sexy. I take her hand, helping her off the counter. I’m so hard from hearing her voice say that one simple sentence, I should get a medal for not fucking her right then and there.

  Instead, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me, sinking deeper into a mind-numbing kiss.

  Her lips mold perfectly with mine, our tongues tangle as if it’s been a daily practice.

  My fingers lift her shirt from her body, finally giving me a glimpse of her bare breasts.

  “Christ. How are you so fucking perfect?”

  Her perky tits make my mouth water. Her pink nipples stand at aroused attention as I kiss her, scraping against my chest before I slowly move down her slender neck, eliciting a throaty moan. My tongue swirls over one nipple and then the other as her fingers grip my hair, and her chest involuntarily thrusts forward, craving more.

  We move to the living room as I make my way down her sexy body. From the curve of her hip to the top of her shorts, which I quickly tug down and off along with her cotton thong.

  I look up at her nakedness, admiring her as the most precious work of art I’ve ever seen.

  My hands grip her ass when I dive in, pulling an exasperated gasp from her mouth as her fingernails dig into my shoulders. I don’t just want to make her come. I need to.

  My tongue slides along her slit, already wet for me. Ready for me, too. But I will make her downright cry out for me.

  There will be no question of stopping this time.

  Please don’t stop.

  God, his tongue is going to actually kill me. He knows exactly how to tease me, deliciously so. His tongue flicks over my clit while two of his fingers fill my aching pussy.

  I want to come, but the anticipation and the buildup is a high all on its own, and Garrett knows that.

  My legs shake as the familiar tingle rises in my lower belly, but he pulls his mouth away, making me whimper.

  “Garrett."

  “You ready to come all over my tongue, Ash?”

  My thighs clench at his question, and I can feel him smile between my legs as his hands open them wider.

  The backs of my calves meet one of the chai
rs in the living room, and I lay back against the soft cushions, my head resting low against the back, my ass draped over the edge. Garrett embraces the new position, leaning into me as he rests on his knees, devouring me. Licking from my clit to my ass before paying more attention to my clit and fucking me with his fingers. Driving me fucking wild with desire.

  I’ve never been with anyone who has focused this much on me in bed, and my head sinks into the cushion as my back arches, leaning into the pleasure.

  His free hand creeps along my stomach before finding my nipple and pinching, causing my hips to buck and sending me so far over the edge I’m not sure I’ll ever come down from the intense orgasm ripping through my body.

  His fingers curl inside me as my pussy pulses and clenches with the orgasm, my fingers gripping and tugging on his hair as wave after wave of pleasure flows through me.

  When his mouth leaves me, he stands and takes my hand as I follow him down the hallway to his bedroom. “I want you in my fucking bed.”

  I oblige, walking to his bed, sitting at the end. He stalks me, joining me on the bed, and his entire body covers mine as our bodies scoot upward.

  I feel his hardened cock against my stomach, and all I want is him. Every single inch.

  I roll so I’m on top and in charge, and he gladly lets me take over. My lips slide along his neck and down his hard chest.

  Every bit of him is rock solid. I enjoy the contrast of the softness of my lips against his firmness. I kiss over the tattoo covering his pec, kissing down until I reach his jeans. I quickly unfasten them and tug them down his ass, but leaving his underwear on.

  I slide my body up until my lips find his again, crushing my mouth against his. I let myself get lost in him as my pussy grinds against his hardened cock beneath his boxer briefs soaked by my arousal.

  “Tell me you want me.” My words are breathless, fueled by insecurities and lust.

  His eyes lock on mine as his hands hold my face in a vice-like grip, forcing me to listen to his words. “I fucking need you, Ashlyn.”

  I know he means he needs to fuck me. But I also know in that moment, he isn’t thinking about anyone else but me. I dip my head down and kiss him as he removes his briefs.