But God, she was still so beautiful.
It had been ages since I’d spent this much time in the same room as her. She hadn’t really left my head since the reunion, and I was loath to admit how many times I’d beat off in the shower thinking of her in that dark blue shimmery dress. She was the source of pretty much all of my fantasies going back to high school... which probably explained why I’d never let myself get serious with any of the girls I hooked up with in California.
And now she was on the other side of the house. Myparents’house. Last night when I’d rubbed her feet, she’d let out the softest little moan, and my brain went on a one-way track to all the other ways I could elicit similar noises from her.
I know, I was going to hell.
But this morning when she walked into the kitchen wearing those tight yoga pants—Well, it was probably good I had a frilly pink apron covering the front of me.
I was trying to do the right thing. She was fresh off a breakup. She needed good food, fresh air, and comfortable company. I wanted to make her laugh and forget about her troubles for a while, and I felt like I was doing a pretty damn good job. She’d perked up significantly at the diner, at least. It was progress from the sad, lifeless girl I’d picked up in Boston.
When she’d stepped away from the booth to use the restroom, a grizzled white-hair man in a faded flannel shirt had approached our table.
“That the Meadows girl?” he asked gruffly. “Haven’t seen her around in a long time.”
Gotta lovesmall towns and old busybodies, I’d reflected mentally.
I cast my eyes to where she’d disappeared. “Yes sir, that’s her.”
“Damn fine athlete that one was.”
I wondered if Brooke even knew the lasting impression she’d made on our small town.
When we’d settled in for movie night, I thought maybe it would feel like old times. But suddenly we weren’t a couple kids laying side by side a foot apart on a pull-out couch in the basement trying to throw popcorn back and forth into each other’s mouths.
We were two full-grown adults, sitting impossibly close to each other under the same blanket. And my body certainly recognized the difference.
I tried to ignore the scent of her peach shampoo wafting towards me each time she reached for the popcorn bowl which was, yeah, in mylap. By the time she laid her head on myshoulder, my self-control was a tenuous thread ready to snap. One move and I could capture those lips I’d so often dreamed of. I could claim her mouth with mine.
But it wasn’t what she needed.
So I’d stopped it.
I knew I’d startled her when I jumped up and began to clean up. She’d shuffled off to bed, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the bedroom door snick shut, the temptation out of reach for the night.
If I was honest with myself, I’d had a crush on Brooke since I was seven years old and she crashed her skateboard in front of my driveway. She was spunky and tough and larger-than-life, and instantly I knew I needed her as a friend.
For years that’s all it was with us—fierce, loyal friendship, punctuated by plenty of pranks, long phone calls, and inside jokes.
By the time the teenage hormones came along, I knew I’d been firmly placed in Brooke’s friend zone. Still, I felt on top of the word each time she’d stick her feet in my lap during study sessions or lean her head on my shoulder at the movies. I was her rock, her protector, her safe space. It was a badge I wore proudly.
By tenth grade, I wanted her in every way known to man. I wanted her smiles pointed at me. I wanted to lace our fingers together when she grabbed my palm and swung our joined hands back and forth, skipping along the bank of the creek behind my house.
I felt a near-desperate need to taste her glossy lips. I was a wiry teen, but Brooke was a goddess—lean, trim muscle with thick thighs and an ass that was sure to be every teenage boy’s fantasy. She was certainly mine. She was tall and athletic, and boy, did that do it for me.
Everything about her did it for me.
And by senior year, when her lips finally met mine after prom—I swore I’d died and gone to heaven. I knew then I’d never be the same.
In all the years since then, no girl of any shape or size had ever compared. I considered myself appreciative of all types of female beauty, but my heart and soul had long been stuck on the girl with the big brown eyes and long chocolate hair.
Obviously, this wasn’t the right time to make a move. I wasn’t going to exploit her emotional vulnerability. It had taken me over six months since the reunion to even get back to the friend level. No way would I jeopardize that.
In the shower and in my dreams, though... well, I just didn’t have control over that.
The next morningBrooke slept in, and I found Maple in the living room. I assume Brooke had gotten up early to let her out, then returned to bed. Sometime in the late morning I heard the shower running in the master. I tried hard not to picture her in there. I threw on basketball shorts and a hoodie. Maple raised her head with interest as I laced my shoes.
“Want to come, girl?” I asked her, then grabbed her leash as she excitedly hopped up, tail wagging.
