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Lowering his mouth toward mine with what appears to be confidence.
If it wasn’t for the fact, I could hear his unsteady breathing and feel the slight tremble in his system each time he closes more distance, I would declare I was the only one a bit nervous about crossing a line we haven’t crossed yet.
One that once we do cross it, there’s no coming back from.
I mean once you kiss your best friend you can’t unkiss them.
You can’t just pretend that you don’t know how they taste.
Or how soft their lips are.
Or how deliriously slow their tongue moves against yours.
An anxious, needy whimper mindlessly escapes regarding the latter prompting Slater to harshen his grasp and drop his mouth at a faster velocity. My heart furiously pounds against my ribcage like a bass drum, refusing to let me shy away from the rhythm. A single brush is gently executed, clearly meant to be a warmup note, yet rather than advance to the next line in the hypnotic melody, our succession of romantic tone is broken by the blaring ding of my cell. Our frames instantaneously split, an action that leaves behind sexual tension and disappointment alike.
“Sorry,” I sheepishly apologize to him while retrieving the device from my pocket. “It’s probably just work.”
Slater slowly nods his understanding.
“Most likely Melissa wondering what time I’ll be in and if she needs to make a coffee run or if I want an in-house cappuccino.”
The corner of his lip initially kicks upward; however, the second it’s revealed otherwise, there’s no denying the blatant shift in demeanor.
How his arm falls back to his side.
How he steps away to actively create space between us.
Harv: My office is ready.
Harv: I can’t wait to see you.
“Everything okay?” Blu cautiously probes.
“Is it not work?” Aviva joins the search for information directly on his heels.
“No, it’s definitely work,” I enthusiastically proclaim to the crowd.
“Why don’t I go ahead and grab the food that’s stayin’ warm in the oven while everyone goes and sits down at the table?” Slater clears his throat and offers me a forced, cordial grin. “You too, Arlette. I can take it from here.”
Choosing the responsible choicenotto make a scene in front of other people is what leads to me spinning on my heels and following behind our friends while internally humming the all too haunting lyrics from one of my favorite Avril Lavigne songs.
Why do I suddenly get the feeling she isn’t the only one not getting a happy ending?
Chapter 11
Arley
Slater opens the passenger door to his truck for me in silence.
Complete and total silence.
And not the comfortable type that’s there because you’ve just evolved to that level of communicating.
No.
The painful type that makes the cramps I had last week feel like a fucking all-expense paid cruise to the Bahamas.
Which I don’t know if I could do but part of me wants totry.
