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I’d talked it over countless times with Zane and Axel, but none of us could see the appeal in staying with such a vile narcissist. Other than having the fortune of being bombshell beautiful, Lexus brought almost nothing to the table. She was moody, nasty, vindictive, and constantly at odds with just about everyone around her. Even her small group of high school friends — growing smaller and smaller now with each passing orbit — seemed completely over her daily antics.
Lexus responded by tightening her grip on the one thing she still had: our friend. And so, with Tyler very much in love with this evil succubus, we started including her in our plans whether we liked it or not. Only we didn’t like it. And she didn’t like us. It wasn’t long before the rift between us became irreparable, and soon the two of them were spending all of their time alone.
“You got any real soap?” Tyler called out lustily, from over the rush of the steaming spray. “This shower gel definitely isn’t cutting it.”
“That shower gel is fifteen dollars a bottle!” I called back.
“Maybe,” Tyler laughed. “But it’s still not soap.”
Edging my way into the bathroom, I averted my gaze and hunted down a bar of Irish Spring. After pulling it from the cabinet under the sink, I extended one arm blindly past the shower curtain and into the steam.
“Here.”
Hot water rained down on my hand and wrist, making me glad I’d rolled up my sleeve first. A moment later however, the shower spray became entirely inconsequential.
“Take the— Oh!”
The backs of my fingers grazed something wet and smooth and scrumptiously taut. Something that might be a stomach, or thigh, or hip… but was most likely the curve of Tyler’s ass.
“Hey, watch it!” I heard him chuckle.
It was good to hear him laughing again, especially considering his previous mood. Maybe a hot shower was all he really needed.
“You almost hit… well…”
“Well what?” I challenged.
Tyler’s laugh was more nervous now. “Something else.”
I felt a hand close over my wrist, grasping it firmly in place as the soaps were switched. By the time I withdrew, Tyler was already lathering up.
“Thanks, Ari.”
I turned on the sink and washed the soap from my fingers, while looking up to see if I could discern anything in the mirror’s reflection. But wall to wall, ceiling to cabinet, it was covered in a thick layer of fog.
Damn.
“There’s a clean T-shirt in my bedroom, bottom left drawer. One of you left it here a few weeks back.”
“Bottom left. Got it.”
With that I pushed out through the swirling steam, and back into the clarity of the hall. I made my way to the fridge and uncapped a fresh beer, in anticipation of his return.
Five minutes later Tyler emerged in a pair of loose-fitting sweat shorts, and a T-shirt I was pretty sure belonged to Zane. He was rolling his right arm in a slow circle, wincing slightly as he tested its limitations.
“That shoulder’s not acting up again, is it?”
My friend nodded.
“Sit here,” I patted the floor at the foot of the couch. “I’ll work on it.”
He sighed gratefully as he sank down, giving me his back. Scooting forward, I positioned my thighs on either side of him, handed him the beer, and began kneading his injured deltoid. For a good two minutes there was nothing but silence, as he took long sips from the bottle and allowed his body to slowly relax. I’d rubbed these big shoulders more times than I could count. At times, Tyler even returned the favor.
“Wow. You smell good.”
He sniffed at his arm. “I smell like fruit.”
“Wild raspberries,” I agreed. “Totally delicious.”
