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“No, it doesn’t, but what do you propose we do, stay home and rent some movies?” Looking over at him, I roll my eyes as he elevates his voice to sound like a girl. “That sounds so romantic, Trey. What should we rent, the Titanic?”
God, he can joke so much sometimes. No wonder this guy can’t find a serious girlfriend, he can’t even be serious for more than five minutes.
“Dude, Kings, can you be serious for a second, or does that take too much brainpower for you, Tarzan?” I start flipping through the stations in hopes that he’ll just pipe down so I can get home and get ready for another night out. Another night filled with desperate women and booze. Man, this is getting old.
“Wow, what’s going on over there, Mr. Deep-in-thought?” Looking over, I expect to see his Cheshire Cat smirk,
but I’m surprised when he’s looking straight at me. I raise my eyebrow to signal my shock.
“You really want to know?” I question, looking over at him. He doesn’t look like he has a joke to crack, so I go for it.
“Yes, I asked, didn’t I? Whatcha got? Hit me!”
“I’m just over going out all the time, getting drunk, and not really finding anything to keep me engaged,” I tell him while I look straight ahead, because I’m not good with expressing my emotions. I haven’t been since my mom walked out on my dad and me when I was eight. When she left, it created a gap in my heart, making me angry and resentful. It caused me to be void of all intimate feelings and left me fearing any sort of romantic relationships. Building any sort of intimacy, outside of sex, is non-existent for me and I’m truly over it. There’s only ever been one woman who’s found a way to let me feel something more; she brings out a possessive side to me. Shit, even some obsession. That girl is Shayla; she’s my best friend and a girl that I’d lay my life on the line for. She’s the one woman who I’d give anything to be with, but I can’t. She deserves a lover, not someone as emotionally numb as me. I couldn’t give her what she needs, could I? This really has me second-guessing myself.
“Wow, I didn’t know you felt that way, man, I didn’t mean to push you,” he responds, then lightly punches my shoulder in remorse. “You don’t have to come tonight if you don’t want to.”
I pause and seriously debate his offer. Maybe I’ll stay in tonight. Call Shay over to watch a movie. Get some cuddle action? Yes, we’re those friends, ones who cuddle, ones who cuddle while the horny fucker, played by me, has to try and not get a boner. Friendly cuddles are not fuck-me cuddles.
I pull into the parking garage to our apartments, and that’s when I see her. Shayla, in her perfect fucking skinny jeans and white V-neck. Shit, she wrecks me. Ignoring his last statement, I throw my truck into park and jump out.
“Shay. Hey, wait up!” I yell, hoping she hears me before she closes her car door. Thankfully, she does. She steps back out of her car and stands in the wedge of the door.
“Trey, hey, what’s up?” She bites that plump and pouty bottom lip of hers, and I have to keep from picturing myself between her legs, making her bite that lip the same damn way she is now.
Fuck, calm it down, Trey. Down, boy, down.
“Where ya headed? The boutique?” I ask, in a desperate attempt to postpone her leaving. I’m greedy when it comes to spending time with her, even if it’s only for a few more minutes.
“No, I’m off to get my hair cut, it’s unruly.”
I can show her unruly hair, if she’d get under me. I really have no sensor where she’s concerned; my thoughts are too perverted. My mind settles when she laughs and a little snort makes its way out. I’m seriously screwed, she’s so perfect.
“What about you? You guys just get back from lifting?”
My sly smile comes out, showing my best cocky grin, she was thinking about me lifting.
“Oh, were you checking out my muscles? Are you saying I look ripped, baby?” I watch as a slow blush whispers across her cheek, and I feel another chip in my cold, icy heart, break off.
“I didn’t mean that…I mean…I just noticed…the um…workout attire, so I assumed.” She moves the hair from her face as she stutters, and I know if I don’t end this torture, she won’t last two more seconds.
“I’m kidding. I was just giving you a hard time. Anyway, Kings and I are heading to the Rose Bar tonight. You and L should come.” I know I wanted to stay in tonight, but maybe a more laid-back, fun setting will make her more relaxed—perhaps even open to what I’m going to tell her. Tonight, I’m gonna fucking tell Shay how I feel, no more holding back and no more being a pussy.
“Yeah, you should bring Lana,” Kingston pipes in, and we both shoot him a weird sideways glance.
“What? She’s fun to be around, and you don’t want the dynamic to be off, I mean three or four people? You decide.”
You can see the conflict in his eyes as he grasps at straws. I thought I was bad at showing my emotions. What the fuck is with us? Two grown men acting like pussies today. I need a damn drink.
“Fuck it, just bring her, Shay. Be a good sister and help your brother out. Okay?” he says, making praying hands at her.
He looks more desperate than a dog begging for a bone. He has tried many times to put himself on Lana’s radar since she left the hospital. They have been hot and cold lately, one minute you would think she is letting him in and the next she’s breaking the poor dude’s heart. They’ve had this connection even before and during her time with Joel. The same one Shay and I have. The silent force that draws us together but keeps us at a safe distance. No one wants to get hurt, I guess.
“Yeah. Fine, okay, we’ll be there.”
Score! I get to spend some time with my favorite girl tonight.
Shayla
