Without Scars (12 page)

“Hey, Nik, you were staring at me before you went in there…”

“Yeah, so?” 

“I mean, keep staring at me…but I wanted you to know I. Can. See. You.”

“What do you expect me to do?” I tossed the blanket at him. “I only get to look, right? Because we’re friends…”

“We are. You want me to put my shirt back on?” he asked, heading for the couch. He failed the obstacle course that was my cluttered living room and bumped into every piece of furniture on the way.

“No. Nope. No. No. Don’t you ever let anyone make you,” I teased. He looked up expectantly at me once he was supine. “What?” He could probably see the outline of my nipples.
Lord
knows
I
could.

He gripped my thigh. “Lie down with me.” When I did, Charlie pulled me against him until my breasts were smashed on his chest. I swam in the scent of him and alcohol. “So…earlier you were swinging my dick and then you were just eye-banging me. Are you trying to tell me something, Nikki?”

“Friend zone boundaries were poor drawn?”

Charlie laughed. “I like our friendship a lot but, you know, if you ever said yes…we wouldn’t be friends anymore, right?”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Mmmhmm. You ever think about us…?”

“Yeah…we’ve joked about how a relationship between us would be.”

“…
boning
?” he continued.

I burst out laughing. “Who says
boning?
And…maybe…”

“Good. Then I don’t feel bad about what we do in my head…”

Every part of me coiled and pulsed. Was it better or worse than what I did to him in
my
head? Or what I let him do to
me
?
Don’t ask like what. Don’t ask like what.
“Like what?” It was taking too much effort to keep the words in. Plus my brain was all,
Say it’s my pussy, Suck me all the way to my balls, Come on my dick
in Charlie’s voice
.
“What do we do in your head?”

“What would you
want
me to do to you?”

I tensed up as his hold on me went slack. “
Charlie
.”

“What…what…” he said in sleepy confusion. He pushed his face deeper into the crook of my neck. His hand stayed resting just above my butt. “Shit. I want to keep talking to you, but I’m so fuckin’ tired, Nik.” He adjusted his head and squinted. We were eye to eye.

“You’re drunk, too.”

“And you’re really pretty. Okay, now say something about
me
again
.”

I laughed. “Sleep, Charlie.” And as soon as he was out, I was finally going to try out that mysterious last speed on my Body Wand.

“No…talk to me,” he mumbled.

“Fine,” I sighed. He put his head on my shoulder again. “Do you know who the girl was? The one in Julian’s story?”

He shook his head, scruff brushing my collarbone. “No, but do you think she got what she wanted? You think she got her happy ending? I hope…” His words were buried in a yawn. Then his breathing slowed. Charlie was asleep again, and I didn’t get a chance to answer. I touched the side of his face before I flipped around, put my back to his chest, and snuggled against him. Why did you have to wait until the end to get to happy, anyway? Because right now felt like the beginning of something
huge
.

And I was ecstatic.

Chapter Seven

Charlie

“This is fucking bullshit,” I mumbled to Samira as I paced in front of the house we were filming in today. We’d gotten email feedback from Hillington and as expected, someone suggested changing Sami’s masturbation scene. That particular critique was pissing me off, but the entire script was covered in virtual red ink, too. Some of the comments hurt more than others, and the more I replayed them in my head, the more my anger was giving way to insecurity. Dread tightened my chest. Was it that shitty? I had spent literal weeks on that thing, sleepless weeks. I had taken breaks before reading it through again and then rewriting. How the hell had I missed all the potential problems?

Fuck.

Samira stepped into my path, a consoling expression on her face, but I knew the reality of our new work arrangement was overwhelming for her, too. “People are uncomfortable with a woman pleasuring herself for her own benefit. You know that.”

“But what about the other stuff? I get that they know better than us, but…shit…were we just fucking all of this up before they got here? Is there a chance they’ll destroy whole episodes because we’ve been fucking up so much? What if the story’s no good overall? What if the other scripts aren’t?” I was going to blow this. Then it was going to be three years ago all over again. That was the stuff my nightmares were made of. But mostly I thought of Samira. She’d given up her nonprofit/save the world job for Hillington’s paycheck. It was good money. I couldn’t screw this up for her. I’d write all day and night if I had to. I’d make it better.

She groaned and fell against my chest. “Shit, I’m sorry, baby,” I said, “I forgot to say ‘Real.’” Whenever Samira and I were going to metaphorically drop something heavy on the other person—and shit was about to get real—we always gave fair warning. I also looked around to make sure no one from the crew was watching me slide into panic mode, especially because their jobs were dependent on me. All these people here on set today. With families and mortgages and kids’ college funds.

Fuck.

Okay. I had to get my shit together. Freaking out wouldn’t help anyone. Samira’s arms folded around me. “It’s okay. I’m worried about
you
right now. You honestly look like you’re about to vomit. Today is supposed to be a good day, Charlie. The viewing party is tonight and everyone’s excited. Cut yourself a break. Let’s just get through these scenes, drink all the free booze later, and go apeshit tomorrow about how much we suck at this, okay?”

Before I could respond, my phone beeped with a text message:

Nik: We’re five minutes away. Sorry!

Nikki had been busy at
West Side Story
dance practice all morning, and we’d barely spoken today beyond one or two quick texts. For the past month, she’d been going to the rehearsals right after Castles and Cupcakes
,
and now that
How to Fuck up a Friendship
was on this demanding filming schedule, I was getting antsy about how much our work obligations were cutting into our time together.  It fucking sucked.

Nik: Wait. Lea says ten more. But we’re close!

Me:
Just fucking get here already.

Nik: In ten! Promise =)

“I’m glad
someone
can get a smile out of you today…” Samira slapped my arm.

“What?” I looked up and she was grinning, eyes narrowing, too, as she tried to peer at my screen. “I wasn’t.”

“When are you going to lock that down?”

“With Nikki? The fuck are you talking about? We’re just friends.” She exaggerated her laughter as I walked around to the side of the house. I fished out two pills from my pocket. My pulse raced. The urge to slip them under my tongue was immediate. I had been feeling sort of shitty about them since almost exposing my use to Nikki the night she first went to my place. They had been right there on the sink in my bathroom, and I’d remembered at the last minute. It wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to figure out that no one had prescribed them to me. 

My friends and I liked being
under the influence
, period. Ghost always had E or molly, Deacon brought the weed, and alcohol was just always there. We didn’t judge each other and we liked getting fucked up. I was taking Fallon’s meds nearly every day now. To work. Still just to work. Yeah, prescription drugs were different, especially when no one except you was monitoring what was happening to your body. Like I said, I paid attention in D.A.R.E. I had this handled.

But Nikki was going to have a problem with how I was using them, no matter how much I explained that I had it completely under control. I feared her reaction would have consequences for our friendship, especially because of her past. I didn’t want to lose what we had because I disappointed her in some way.  I cared about that enough to keep
this
a secret.

I shook the capsules around in my hand but pushed them back into my pocket. Sometimes when I came down off amphetamines after a stressful day, the crash punished me with double the anxiety. Like Samira, I really wanted to relax tonight at the party, and I was anxious as a motherfucker right now. I had gotten into a vicious cycle recently: wondering if we’d top last season’s finale numbers, convincing myself that we wouldn’t, checking our YouTube channel subscriber number, finding out that it had tripled over the last few weeks, checking out how many people had RSVP’ed to watch on Hillington’s website, freaking out because the number was so high, and then freaking
the fuck out
because I was certain the premiere was going to suck and all those people would witness it sucking. Repeat. Repeat. Fucking repeat.

Nik: We’re here!

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?