“She’s my little sister, I don’t know,” I shrug, lying through my teeth. “I’ve always tried to look out for her even though she’s a lady beast. She could kick anyone’s butt if they got on her bad side. Wouldn’t want to mess with her.”
“Seems she can take care of herself, but even if I
was
into her, I’m not someone who would hurt her on purpose. I’m not a dick.”
Shaking my head, I’m kind of surprised he said that. “Of course you’re not a dick. A dork yes, but a dick? Never.”
He laughs, then kisses me on the side of my head. “Here, let’s get a selfie.” He grabs his phone from behind on the cement, and prepares the camera. He angles it a little above our faces and says, “Smile, Sunshine.” We both smile.
He shows me the picture. “That’s a good picture.” I love it. “Don’t forget to tag me.”
“Of course I won’t.” He fiddles with whatever pages he is sharing, then turns it off. “There, all tagged,” laying the phone back behind him.
And without thinking, my head falls on his shoulder. “Indie is right, it’s so beautiful out here. I’m glad we’re staying the night.”
“Me too.”
Things become quiet between us. The water feels amazing, Slim feels amazing, I’m so content right now I don’t want this moment to end. He and I feel so perfect together, it’s crazy to think we’re only friends. If anyone saw us cuddling in the tub they would be surprised we’re not a couple.
Are we a couple
? This close it really feels we’re more than just cuddle buddies. How many best friends cuddle like we do? I doubt too many.
During our silence and the soothing sounds of the bubbling hot tub, Slim’s fingers begin to wander from my waist. They slowly travel over my thigh and land almost between my crotch. He immediately goes back up to my waist, and continues to make me squirm. He starts all over again, until I am almost panting. I want him so bad it’s not even funny. What’s going on here? Is this petting some form of want? It sure doesn’t seem like something a best friend, who is only a cuddle buddy, would do. Or is there something more between us than he is letting on?
My voice hitches when I say his name, “Slim.”
His sensual grazing stops. “Sorry. My fingers seem to have an itch to travel.”
My body stiffens. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing and how to react. I want to laugh at his response, but he seems so serious, yet at the same time sexually joking with me. I lift my head from his shoulder, keeping my eyes straight ahead. “Your fingers haven’t ever traveled before. Not until last night.”
“I’ve noticed that too.”
I slightly turn my body, allowing my eyes to connect with his. I shouldn’t be so shy over this. It’s just Slim. Yet he’s more than just Slim to me. My voice softens, “Have they always been interested in traveling?”
“Subconsciously, maybe.” His hand brushes across the side of my torso, up and down. “Now it’s like they’re getting antsy to explore.” Just like mine, his voice is low and sultry, almost to the point where he’s whispering in my ear.
I look down at his hand, then back up to his eyes. “Why?”
We’re almost nose to nose, lips to lips. “Why not? You’re beautiful.”
He’s dead on serious and has definitely shocked me. The expression on his face, and in his eyes are unreadable.
Holy Moly, what do I say to this
?
I stumble upon my words.
“You…uh…you’ve never said that to me before.”
He shrugs and is still unreadable. “Better now than never.”
I am so speechless. What is going on here? The intensity in his eyes are dark, they’re almost black; the hazel that I normally see is gone. I lick my lips and whisper out, “Things will change between us if we…” I can’t continue what I was about to say.
He shifts me closer, as if we weren’t already close enough, and cups my face with his other hand. I lean into it, looking into his deep, furrowed, set eyes. “If we…what?” He knows exactly what I want to say, and he wants me to say it.
I can’t say it, though. I’ve lost all my train of thinking because it looks like we’re about to kiss. Boy do I want him to kiss me, but is it the right thing to do? We’re both breathing heavily, I can feel his heated breath on my cheek. I grab onto his left shoulder, thinking we are about to hit lips, but I cowardly stop. I remove myself from his grasp and back away. “Ah…I think I’m going to head inside.” He doesn’t stop me from climbing out of the hot tub. Instead he stays and leans his head back against the edge of the tub.
I reach for a towel and wrap it around myself. “I’m gonna hang out here for a bit longer.” I nod my head and swiftly walk inside the house and into the room we’re both sleeping in. I quickly change into a soft cotton cami tank, long yoga pants and climb into bed. I leave one of the nightstand lights on for Slim and pull the sheets up to my chest. I roll onto my side and try to go to sleep. It’s no use, though. The vision of Slim’s lips, mere inches and seconds from taking mine, are overwhelming my overactive brain. I wanted it to happen, but chickened out. Slim chickened out too. At least I think he did? Or was he waiting for me to make the first move? Lordy, why do I feel like this is my first encounter with a guy? It’s only Slim, for goodness sakes! However, at the same time, this is a new Slim. A new Lyric.
A few minutes, or maybe an hour later, I can’t really tell since my head was spinning, Slim dips into bed. “Lyric, you awake?” He whispers to me, thinking I’m asleep. I keep my eyes closed, chickening out again. Just like every other night this week, he brings my body close to his, placing his hand on my belly. Tingles immediately start to generate, once again. He lays his chin above my head and confesses, “Things
are
changing, baby, and it’s out of my control.”
Oh. My. God.
I BOMBED THE MOMENT LAST
night. I waited for her to give her whole self to me and it bombed in my face. I should have gone for it - gone for those lips I have been dying to touch with my own. I’m pissed as all hell with myself for wanting her so much and not doing something about it. She’s frustrating me to the point I can’t even look at her. Why that is, I have no fucking idea.
I woke up this morning feeling like a complete moron. I told her last night, as she was sleeping, I have lost all control over my feelings for her. I should have woken her up and taken her mouth, her body, but I held out. Instead the moron in me is alive and kicking and wants to push her away. I am conflicted and confused. One minute I am telling myself there is no holding back, go for it, the next I am crouching behind my wall again.
I am discouraged, disappointed and now angry. What makes this whole thing worse is that selfie I took of us last night. The world is going completely insane over it; the ladies are jealous, hateful, calling my woman horrible names, I want to choke all of them. Aside from the hate, I love the picture and will continue to ignore the negative and embrace the good I see from that beautiful smile on Lyric’s face.
Shit.
I called her
my woman.
Could my feelings be more confused right now? But she is mine. I couldn’t stand it if she was with anyone else but me.
Before Lyric and I left her sister’s house, Indie commented on the photo, but instead of joking around she actually thought it was a good picture. I was relieved she didn’t go any further with it. I woke up pissy, not in the mood to fuck around and she sensed it.
We left right after breakfast and were now driving on the 405 freeway, passing through Long Beach. Surprising even myself, I’ve been ignoring Twitter and my phone. Music is coming through Lyric’s iPod and we’re both being pretty quiet. Not once have we discussed last night. We came super close to kissing, yet it isn’t a hot topic on our drive home. To be honest, I don’t want to talk about it. Every night has been heated between the sheets - just not heated enough to where I am ripping her panties in half and digging my cock deep inside her. God, I am so fucked up right now. Pissed at my attraction, pissed that Lyric is so sexy, so beautiful; pissed we are such good friends, I don’t want to ruin it by sleeping with her and in the process ruining our relationship. It could ruin what the band has with her as well. But holy hell, Lyric in that bathing suit last night. Shooter was ready to let loose! Once Indie went inside for the night, I couldn’t wait to dig my fingers in Lyric’s flesh. I got so close, yet my fingers didn’t get close enough -
My phone starts going off, interrupting all my distorted thoughts. It’s Wayne. The second I pick up and say hello, Wayne explodes in my ear, “Dude, you and Lyric? Is there somethin’ goin’ on?”
I don’t answer right away. I exhale and look out the window, pinching the corner of my eyes with my fingers. “No - I mean, I don’t know, bro,” I respond as quietly as I can, considering I am in the car right next to her.
“She with you?”
“Yep,” I mumble.
“‘Kay, well we will def talk when I get home. So, the picture -”
“Yeah, man, I know.” I am irritated and wish the picture would take a back seat. “It was a picture, no more than that.”
“The fans are going fucking nuts!”
“I don’t care what they think.”
“Yeah, I hear ya. Same here when they found out about me and Melody. What about Lyric, how she handling it?
I slightly turn my head to get a glimpse of her face. Her expression is somewhat unreadable. Her eyes are on the road, but the second she turns her eyes over to mine, I shift back to looking out my window. “She’s fine with it too. Look, see you when you get back, I can’t take this hiatus anymore. I’m ready to hit the studio.”
“To be honest, so am I. See ya.”
“Later.” After laying my phone face down, I continue to sulk.
“You okay,” Lyric asks.
I sigh, “Yeah, that was Wayne. He said people are still freaking out about that picture from last night.”
“I know. I’ve been getting tons of tweets from your fans. They hate me,” she expresses sadly.
I hate how this is making her feel. What the hell was I thinking posting a private picture of us? I shouldn’t have done it, but then again, I love it and wanted the world to see it. “Don’t read that shit, alright? Ignore the haters.”
“I know. I know. I don’t know why, though, I just had a feeling the picture was going to blow up on Twitter. Can’t believe I let you post it.”
“Lyric, it’s just a picture,” I snap at her. “Let people think whatever they want.”
She pauses before she asks, “What do
you
think about the picture?”
Without hesitation, I blurt out, “I fucking love it, so there.”
“I love it too,” she smiles.
“Good. End of story.”
“But -”
“No buts, Charlie. Just leave it alone.” I am out of my mind, pissed. Seriously and utterly pissed. I just want to get home and forget about that damn picture and the amazing glow, which is all over Lyric’s face, and the twinkle in her eyes.
“You seem awfully grumpy today.”
Closing my eyes, I make an excuse, “Just tired, that’s all.”
“I didn’t sleep much myself, last night.”
“Must have been the bed.” Or her glorious body, smooshed up to mine, with my dick ready to explode.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Guess I’ll take advantage of being the passenger and try to sleep.”
“Okay.”
Reclining my seat back, I cross my arms. Hopefully a little sleep will help with my attitude toward Lyric. She didn’t do anything wrong. She’s perfect. So fucking perfect, I can’t stand to talk with her anymore. This should be recorded in our history book: the first time ever I don’t have anything to talk or joke about with her and neither does she. I rest my eyes and fall asleep.
“Slim, we’re almost home…Slim,” Lyric pushes my shoulder.
I grunt out a, “Yeah? Cool.” I stretch, as much as I can stretch, then yawn my sleep away. With everything that’s stirring in my head, I’m surprised I was able to get a little nap in. We’re getting close to exiting the freeway.
“Are you hungry? We can stop off and get something first,” Lyric suggests.
I shake my head. “Nah, just drop me off at home. I’ll make something there.”
“Sure. Okay.” I can hear in her voice I have disappointed her. I’m not acting like myself, which I know she can sense. I just don’t have the energy to explain my mood.