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“Beck? What?”
Her face is streaked with mascara, her eyes are red and swollen. My girl isn’t a pretty crier, and it only makes me love her more.
I gather her into my arms, turning her to face me as I hold her against my chest, cupping the back of her head. She goes stiff for a second before she relaxes into me and her sobs, quieter now, continue. Our bodies are pressed together, legs entwined.
“Shhh, just let me hold you.”
We stay like that until her tears have soaked through my shirt and her body has stilled from the crying. Still, I don’t let go. I can’t let go and that’s the crux of the problem for me. I want more from her than she’s able to give me, and I have to find a way to make peace with that.
Amelia lifts her head, and her eyes are so much bluer now. Her tears kill me but they are beautiful in a way too and I can’t help my body’s reaction to them or the feel of her in my arms.
I feel her body still as my hand traces down her spine until it rests on the small of her back just above the curve of her ass. The room seems electrified, the air changing as she licks her bottom lip and I fight the urge to rock my hips against her belly.
“Beck?”
Her voice is tentative, and unsure but holds a husky undertone that is pure sex.
“I’m sorry, I made you cry.”
I hold my breath not wanting to breathe in case the spell around us bursts like the most fragile of bubbles. I don’t even know what this is that I’m feeling—hope, terror, lust.
“I know you are, and it’s not all you.”
She sighs and goes to move back, and I tighten my grip on her, my arms tensing and again her eyes find mine, an unspoken question in them that I don’t have the answer to.
“Do you ever wonder what might have happened that last night in college if you hadn’t been a gentleman and taken me up on my request?”
I don’t know why she’s going down this route, it only leads to heartache for us both, yet I can’t help the way my memory falls back in time to that night.
We’d been out partying hard after our last exam and drunk as fuck. Amelia had been lying across my chest in my room, a position we’d found ourselves in time after time. She’d dumped her boyfriend earlier that week when she found out he was cheating. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship the entire time we were at college, but I’d hooked up plenty.
Yet we always found our way back to each other. She was my true north, and I was hers. We could always count on each other to be there and drop every damn thing for the other. She had been a messy drunk and I hadn’t been much better. It was a night of new beginnings, of moving out into the world and everything was changing.
It was also the night I nearly had sex with my best friend and fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me. That night had been like a smack to the head because I realized that she was more to me, that I was in love with her and probably had been for a long time. I just didn’t think she felt the same.
Her hands move over my chest, wandering down my biceps as if she’s seeing me for the first time. I can’t seem to do anything but hold her gaze, as she leans in and presses her lips to my throat. A groan rumbles in my chest and it takes every single ounce of control I have not to push her to her back and take what she’s offering. Her hand creeps down until she is cupping my hard cock in her hand, and I close my eyes in bliss as she squeezes me gently. I need to take control of this moment, to direct it or we’ll both be dealing with regrets in the morning. One thing I know is that I can’t fuck my best friend, no matter how badly I want to, but I can make her feel good. I can take away that doubt and pain in her eyes.
“Amelia.” I put a little snap in my voice like I do at the club when I’m leading a scene and she responds instantly, her hand stilling on me. My little Tinkerbell is a submissive. I always knew that, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in response to me.
Her breathing hitches and I know I could push this. I could have her screaming my name in minutes, begging for my cock, but then what?
She’d hate me, and what we have now would be lost, sullied, and I don’t ever want to have a life without her in it in some way. Even if that means keeping our relationship strictly as friends. “I won’t fuck you, Amelia.”
My voice is ragged, and I see the way she winces at my words and how she tries to hide it from me. “Hey, look at me. Do not hide from me. That is not us.”
I’m a fucking liar because I’m lying to her right now.
“Isn’t it?”
“No, Tink, it’s not. I hurt you. How can I make this right?”
I see the war on her face play out and we’re in unchartered waters right now and neither of us is sure what will happen. I see the instant she makes her choice, and her hand moves to grip my wrist. She tugs my hand down until I’m cupping her pussy under her pretty dress. I close my eyes, sure I’m going to come in my pants just from the heat of her wet pussy against my fingers. I give an experimental sweep of my thumb over her clit, through the silk of her panties and her moan is like music to my ears.
I do it again as I hold her chin with my free hand so I can watch her. “Is this what you want, Tink? You want me to make you feel good?”
“Yes.”
Fuck.
